[Karen actually isn't stalking him. She isn't even really counting on seeing him. It's late, and she's had a day that falls somewhere between incredibly stressful and distressing. She's managed to mostly wash blood off her hands and nail file, but looks a little shellshocked as she makes her way into the bar. It's late enough she doesn't think anyone else will be here. But someone is.
Of course it's Frank.
She doesn't even notice him until she's already sitting and has spent some time blankly staring ahead. It's when she silently taps fingernails against the bar top to try and get her brain working again. A drink. She came here for a drink. The sound of movement nearby distracts her from that thought, and she glances over their way.
The sight of Frank looking back at her makes her almost look guilty.]
It's late.
[Like that's a reason he shouldn't be here. Maybe it's an explanation as to why she is. She really isn't sure.]
[ it is late, or it feels late. time is meaningless here. he pours her something better than he might someone else. and he refills his own glass as he meets her eyes across the bar. when he brings his glass up to drink from, she'll notice that he only has a bandage across his palm now instead of wrapped around the entirety of his hand. the bruises on his face are fading into nothing and when he lifts his other hand to lean on the bartop, his comms device is strapped dutifully around his wrist. ]
Or early, depending on your perspective. [ he answers as he sucks whiskey off his teeth. this is the only room on the ship that feels familiar, so maybe that's why he's set up camp here. ]
[There's a hint of a smile as she dryly retorts and notices he's wearing his device. The drink he's made her is sipped at, both hands cupping the glass gingerly. A part of her finds it hilarious that she manages to stumble across him even when she isn't trying. ]
We're the only ones up at this hour trying to manage our problems by drinking.
[She's really grateful that this tastes better than the last stuff she picked out for herself.]
[ it doesn't matter, and that's the point really, so he has nothing to say to that. he leans on the counter so they're closer to eye level, looking between the glass and her. frank is having trouble seeing the problem just now, even if her hypothesis is sound. ]
Oh, I don't know... Seems like a proportional response to me. [ just as dry, but perhaps with a touch more humor. of course, he says this before downing the rest of his glass. ]
[This is probably a when in Rome situation. There's a moment of hesitation where she watches him closely, taking note of how easily he drinks this shit. It can't be good for him, but she guesses he hasn't done a single thing that's been good for him in the past couple of years apart from murder. So the only direction he has to go is up.
She follows his lead and downs her glass, lips pressing together tightly as she tries to figure out if she likes the taste or not. In the process, her head rests on her palm, elbow supporting the weight against the tabletop. The drink hits her stomach and burns a little, and her head slides off to the side to tip as she keeps on looking him over.]
[ he watches her down her drink with a shallow smile, setting his glass down a second later. ]
Does something have to happen besides you falling into a door? [ because like... yeah more stuff has happened, but also. WHAT - he's still not over it. how the fuck is she?? ]
[The uncomfortable look on her face says enough about her not wanting to think about the door situation. She slides her glass down his way with a silent expectation that he refill it.]
[It's as much of an agreement as he's going to get on that one. She takes a long drink, and turns her head to stare over at the wall rather than at him.]
But that could've just as easily been you or Wanda.
[The fact is that it wasn't either of them. It was her, and Frank is fiercely protective and determined to keep her alive at any cost.]
[ it isn't until karen says it that he realizes how ott he's been about this one thing. he snorts, just a soft breath as he laughs at himself darkly in his head, looking down into his glass even while she stares past him. if it had been him in the door, he would've just been glad it wasn't karen (or wanda.) but mostly karen. because it was her, he's worried, and isn't that expected of him by now? ]
Look, I know you can take care of yourself. You don't have anything to prove to me.
[She finally looks back to him, giving him a genuine smile. She's exhausted and a little on edge after everything, but at least she has him.]
Why do you care so much about whether or not I'm safe?
[It might seem like a loaded question, but it isn't meant to be one. She just isn't sure why he bothers, not when it feels like she does nothing but aggravate and annoy the hell out of him.]
[ the inquiry in a lot of ways has been a long time coming, and yet in the moment it's unexpected. frank's eyebrows knit together as he leans heavily on one elbow and drinks from his glass with the other hand, as if it helps him think. but he already knows the answer, it's merely a stall for how to relay it to karen. he still can't look at her directly, so he looks through his glass as he rolls it back and forth in his hand, taking comfort from the slosh of the unidentified amber liquid. ]
Because you helped me. [ she helped him remember. she helped him piece back what little remained of his former self. but also- ] You listened to me. [ when she didn't have to. when she had no obligation to do anything for him, frank castle: a criminal. he catches her eyes at last and there's a steadiness to his gaze she probably hasn't seen before. at least not for long. ]
I care what happens to you. [ frank nods, parroting back her words. because they're as true for as little regard as he's ever had for himself. and he knows he's hurt her with that disregard, just as she's hurt him. ]
[He's not lying. She can recognize that in the honest tone of his voice and the way he looks at her. As much as she knows she should look away, she can't bring herself to. She just runs a finger around the rim of her glass and keeps her eyes locked on his. But eventually, when she feels color rising to her cheeks, she glances down and away. It feels like the right thing to do, since she's about to drop another bombshell of a question on him.]
Is it just caring out of obligation? Or is there...
[She hesitates, and uses the time to take a drink.]
[ his face screws up at the word. obligation. is that really why she thinks he's saved her ass so many times? after... after everything they've been through? frank drops his gaze when she attempts to hold it. he has a white-knuckle-grip on his cup as she drops the second bombshell. feelings. he was happy to see her a second ago and now he just wants to run out of the room. ]
Do you think I owe you, Karen? [ turnabout's fair play, right? he looks up slowly, his gaze critical. he burned down his house, she of all people knows he doesn't have obligations anymore. and certainly not to her. ]
[Her voice is intentionally flat and level, avoiding another argument that she can feel is edging in dangerously near. Maybe she had chosen the wrong word there, but it's too late to take it back now. All she can do is press forward and try and force him to answer the question she desperately wants a response to.]
Which brings us back around to the question of the hour. Do you have feelings for me?
[Is that why he didn't want anyone to know they "associated" with one another? Is that why they keep intensely staring at one another and pressing their foreheads together? Is that why he had almost leaned in like he was going to kiss her the last time he saw her?]
I need to know. Please.
[He doesn't have obligations. That's exactly why she thinks that he might have feelings he doesn't know what to do with. ]
[ the question of the hour??? and he thought he was dramatic. ]
Karen... [ it's a warning tone as frank straightens up, then downs the rest of his drink and sets the glass aside. feelings. does he even know what those are anymore? he thinks of sarah kissing him, of him kissing karen's cheek, of her hugging him before that. maybe he's just desperate and broken and lonely like karen had accused him of. mostly he doesn't know how to open himself up like that again. and she's really asking him this while they're in space. christ, karen. ]
We're friends, aren't we? [ he swallows, knowing it isn't what she asked. but he doesn't have an answer to sate her curiosity this time. no mystery to unfurl. this is just him, and he can't crack open his chest so she can glance inside. maybe he does still have a shred of self-preservation left. ] I like to think we are.
[ even if he's a jerk and she pushes too damn far. like now, for instance. ]
[She tries not to let that feel like a rejection. It still does anyway, even if she hasn't confessed anything to him. The quiet settles between them for a few prolonged moments, until the silence feels smothering. Her hand presses against the side of her head and she rests her elbow against the bar. Eyes don't look over to him, but stay trained in on her half-full glass.]
We are.
[Expecting him to ever be able to move past his family isn't something she should put on him. But she can't hide her disappointment completely, and it stems from the fact he can't actually answer a question she shouldn't be springing on him here and now. Maybe she can blame it on reading into the heightened affection between them, if he asks.]
Just...forget I asked, alright? It's not important.
[And she's sorry, but she doesn't voice that. He had told her before to save her apologies for the really big things.]
[ he's equal parts grateful for her confirmation and upset with himself for not giving her the answer she wanted. not that he thinks she does want that - want him. maybe she thinks she does, but it's all based on a flawed predilection from the start. frank can't forget she asked, though. he can't forget anything. and that's partially on her.
frank leans on the bartop opposite her, propping up his boulder of a head with his mirroring elbow. he likes looking her in the eye, even when it's hard. but she won't look at him and maybe that's for the best. he's glad she doesn't apologize either, not when he's probably the one who's sorrier, or should be. ]
If we have to be stuck here - at least we've got each other, right, Page? [ he sounds resigned to their fate already, and it's been what? less than a week. ]
[She can't look him in the eye because her embarrassment is killing her, and in turn tears are in her eyes. She thinks she wants him, knows she feels something for him. She knows that friends don't interact the way she and Frank do, but is too tired to point that out. What's the point in mentioning it? To accuse him of leading her on? To show that she wants something he can't give her?
After what feels like too long of a silence, she turns her head to look over at him. The tears stay brimming in her eyes and she forces a neutral expression.]
Yeah.
[She isn't about to point out that him saying things like that is what leads her to thinking and asking questions like his having feelings for her. ]
We'll always have that.
[It's said for his benefit rather than her own, and she reaches for the bottle to drink straight from it.]
[ will they? he can't help but detect a note of bitterness in the words, looking down at the bar when she takes the bottle and rubbing the back of his neck for a moment. she's always demanding things of him. he has nothing left to give to her, maybe even to life itself. he had been thinking about learning to live again when he was snapped up and sent here instead. so, no, he hasn't thought out a resolution between them, and he wasn't too keen on getting a jump on that any time soon either.
he looks up reluctantly, his head leaning in the crook of his elbow now as he struggles to right himself completely. he's suddenly feeling the full brunt of his exhaustion, and he knows it's obvious he hasn't slept since he got here, barely. powernaps don't count. ]
You said... you said we stick together. If you don't want that-- [ he shrugs, edging back up with an audible crack of his spine. he plants both hands on the bar to keep himself upright. ] Then I dunno what to tell you. Apparently, this ship is only so big. [ aka even when they avoid each other, they end up sharing oxygen anyway. ]
[That crack of his spine gets her head to jerk over in his direction, and she gives a little shake of her head. For once, she isn't trying to get him to do anything. She's just confused and more than a little embarrassed.]
I do want to stick together. I just thought -
[She hesitates, but pushes through it to get out what she wants to say.]
When you came to apologize, I thought you were going to kiss me before you left. The way you leaned in made me think that maybe there was something there. That's all.
[It's not all. But it's a good enough lie. She even manages a shaky smile, and takes another sip from the bottle before handing it over to him. It looks like he could use some of this too. If nothing else, at least they can get drunk together and forget this conversation ever happened.]
[ well, that gets the lethargy to leave his bones in a hurry, drawing up to full height deliberately to put space between them now. he frowns, remembering the exact moment she's referring to. he ignores the offer of the drink, and suddenly he needs to know something that up until now he had been delighted to be ignorant of. his gaze is weighty and sober as it regards her, and then he's blurting out his own question that all but demands an answer. ]
Did you want me to kiss you? [ his voice is suddenly hoarse, but he pushes through it, swallowing back the bile that threatens to rise. he doesn't want her to say yes but he doesn't know what to do if she says no. reason #465 why karen page infuriates him. ]
[A lie sits on the tip of her tongue, mouth ready to form the word no. It would be so simple and easy to move past this if she lied. But she doesn't want to lie to him, not about this. Not when she's the one who's getting him to ask in the first place.
Her head turns and she looks over to him, eyes still glassy with tears she's refused to let fall. They're no longer brimming and threatening to fall, but the wet redness still shows enough evidence to give plenty of proof that this is an emotional and sensitive topic for her. The way he's looking at her like she's some kind of threat doesn't help matters, either.]
Yes. [It's barely a whisper, her voice cracking. She has to clear her throat and try again.]
Yeah, I did. I still do, so I'm not sure what that says about me.
[Both hands cover her mouth as soon as she clearly says it and the words hang in the open between them.]
[ the second he sees her watery gaze he knows he's made a mistake. one he can't take back this time. his breathing turns shallow as the words wash over him. he wants to reassure her, they're both plenty fucked up, but... how does he even go on without hurting her further? that's all he ever wanted to prevent and yet it seems to be all he's good at. ]
Karen... [ he starts, the same way he always does, but he takes a half-step backward, stopping just before the shelves full of bottles, colored glass casting eerie shapes over his bruised face in the dim light. ] It's not like I'm not- [ flattered? like he said to sarah, right? except he has to ditch that script. it's not fair to her. it's not even honest. she's being honest with him, but she says he doesn't owe her anything. does she really believe it? a darkness brews over his expression and she'll know from experience that what he says next will be just as grim. ]
I'm not who you think I am. I'm barely even a - who - at all. I know you want... a life for me, right? That's what you said. Well, my life ended two years ago. I think on some level you know that. [ frank takes two quick paces forward again, eyes hard when they meet hers. ] Is that what makes me "safe?"
[She tries really hard to hide the confusion on her face, but fails miserably. It's at least an expression other than hurt, which had been clouding her features up until that point. His backing away, trying to hide from her honest truth, is a little more hurtful than she wants to admit. Her gaze holds his as he presses forward, steady and unyielding.]
I know exactly who you are, and that scares the hell out of you.
[He's pacing and moving like a trapped animal, ready to lash out if it means safety. He's beyond scared. He's repulsed by her, and that's enough to make an answer to his question stay caught in her throat. He's not safe in the traditional sense. When she's with him, she feels safe because she knows he'd leave a body count behind before ever letting anything happen to her.]
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Of course it's Frank.
She doesn't even notice him until she's already sitting and has spent some time blankly staring ahead. It's when she silently taps fingernails against the bar top to try and get her brain working again. A drink. She came here for a drink. The sound of movement nearby distracts her from that thought, and she glances over their way.
The sight of Frank looking back at her makes her almost look guilty.]
It's late.
[Like that's a reason he shouldn't be here. Maybe it's an explanation as to why she is. She really isn't sure.]
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Or early, depending on your perspective. [ he answers as he sucks whiskey off his teeth. this is the only room on the ship that feels familiar, so maybe that's why he's set up camp here. ]
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[There's a hint of a smile as she dryly retorts and notices he's wearing his device. The drink he's made her is sipped at, both hands cupping the glass gingerly. A part of her finds it hilarious that she manages to stumble across him even when she isn't trying. ]
We're the only ones up at this hour trying to manage our problems by drinking.
[She's really grateful that this tastes better than the last stuff she picked out for herself.]
I think that's a sign of a problem.
[That's a joke. A very flat joke.]
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Oh, I don't know... Seems like a proportional response to me. [ just as dry, but perhaps with a touch more humor. of course, he says this before downing the rest of his glass. ]
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She follows his lead and downs her glass, lips pressing together tightly as she tries to figure out if she likes the taste or not. In the process, her head rests on her palm, elbow supporting the weight against the tabletop. The drink hits her stomach and burns a little, and her head slides off to the side to tip as she keeps on looking him over.]
Did something happen?
[You know, besides being trapped in space.]
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Does something have to happen besides you falling into a door? [ because like... yeah more stuff has happened, but also. WHAT - he's still not over it. how the fuck is she?? ]
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Do you really worry that much about me?
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You do have a knack for getting in trouble. [ he pours a couple fingers for himself then if only to hide half of his expression behind his glass. ]
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[It's as much of an agreement as he's going to get on that one. She takes a long drink, and turns her head to stare over at the wall rather than at him.]
But that could've just as easily been you or Wanda.
[The fact is that it wasn't either of them. It was her, and Frank is fiercely protective and determined to keep her alive at any cost.]
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Look, I know you can take care of yourself. You don't have anything to prove to me.
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[She finally looks back to him, giving him a genuine smile. She's exhausted and a little on edge after everything, but at least she has him.]
Why do you care so much about whether or not I'm safe?
[It might seem like a loaded question, but it isn't meant to be one. She just isn't sure why he bothers, not when it feels like she does nothing but aggravate and annoy the hell out of him.]
I want to know the honest answer.
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Because you helped me. [ she helped him remember. she helped him piece back what little remained of his former self. but also- ] You listened to me. [ when she didn't have to. when she had no obligation to do anything for him, frank castle: a criminal. he catches her eyes at last and there's a steadiness to his gaze she probably hasn't seen before. at least not for long. ]
I care what happens to you. [ frank nods, parroting back her words. because they're as true for as little regard as he's ever had for himself. and he knows he's hurt her with that disregard, just as she's hurt him. ]
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Is it just caring out of obligation? Or is there...
[She hesitates, and uses the time to take a drink.]
Are there feelings there beyond that?
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Do you think I owe you, Karen? [ turnabout's fair play, right? he looks up slowly, his gaze critical. he burned down his house, she of all people knows he doesn't have obligations anymore. and certainly not to her. ]
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[Her voice is intentionally flat and level, avoiding another argument that she can feel is edging in dangerously near. Maybe she had chosen the wrong word there, but it's too late to take it back now. All she can do is press forward and try and force him to answer the question she desperately wants a response to.]
Which brings us back around to the question of the hour. Do you have feelings for me?
[Is that why he didn't want anyone to know they "associated" with one another? Is that why they keep intensely staring at one another and pressing their foreheads together? Is that why he had almost leaned in like he was going to kiss her the last time he saw her?]
I need to know. Please.
[He doesn't have obligations. That's exactly why she thinks that he might have feelings he doesn't know what to do with. ]
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Karen... [ it's a warning tone as frank straightens up, then downs the rest of his drink and sets the glass aside. feelings. does he even know what those are anymore? he thinks of sarah kissing him, of him kissing karen's cheek, of her hugging him before that. maybe he's just desperate and broken and lonely like karen had accused him of. mostly he doesn't know how to open himself up like that again. and she's really asking him this while they're in space. christ, karen. ]
We're friends, aren't we? [ he swallows, knowing it isn't what she asked. but he doesn't have an answer to sate her curiosity this time. no mystery to unfurl. this is just him, and he can't crack open his chest so she can glance inside. maybe he does still have a shred of self-preservation left. ] I like to think we are.
[ even if he's a jerk and she pushes too damn far. like now, for instance. ]
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We are.
[Expecting him to ever be able to move past his family isn't something she should put on him. But she can't hide her disappointment completely, and it stems from the fact he can't actually answer a question she shouldn't be springing on him here and now. Maybe she can blame it on reading into the heightened affection between them, if he asks.]
Just...forget I asked, alright? It's not important.
[And she's sorry, but she doesn't voice that. He had told her before to save her apologies for the really big things.]
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frank leans on the bartop opposite her, propping up his boulder of a head with his mirroring elbow. he likes looking her in the eye, even when it's hard. but she won't look at him and maybe that's for the best. he's glad she doesn't apologize either, not when he's probably the one who's sorrier, or should be. ]
If we have to be stuck here - at least we've got each other, right, Page? [ he sounds resigned to their fate already, and it's been what? less than a week. ]
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After what feels like too long of a silence, she turns her head to look over at him. The tears stay brimming in her eyes and she forces a neutral expression.]
Yeah.
[She isn't about to point out that him saying things like that is what leads her to thinking and asking questions like his having feelings for her. ]
We'll always have that.
[It's said for his benefit rather than her own, and she reaches for the bottle to drink straight from it.]
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he looks up reluctantly, his head leaning in the crook of his elbow now as he struggles to right himself completely. he's suddenly feeling the full brunt of his exhaustion, and he knows it's obvious he hasn't slept since he got here, barely. powernaps don't count. ]
You said... you said we stick together. If you don't want that-- [ he shrugs, edging back up with an audible crack of his spine. he plants both hands on the bar to keep himself upright. ] Then I dunno what to tell you. Apparently, this ship is only so big. [ aka even when they avoid each other, they end up sharing oxygen anyway. ]
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I do want to stick together. I just thought -
[She hesitates, but pushes through it to get out what she wants to say.]
When you came to apologize, I thought you were going to kiss me before you left. The way you leaned in made me think that maybe there was something there. That's all.
[It's not all. But it's a good enough lie. She even manages a shaky smile, and takes another sip from the bottle before handing it over to him. It looks like he could use some of this too. If nothing else, at least they can get drunk together and forget this conversation ever happened.]
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Did you want me to kiss you? [ his voice is suddenly hoarse, but he pushes through it, swallowing back the bile that threatens to rise. he doesn't want her to say yes but he doesn't know what to do if she says no. reason #465 why karen page infuriates him. ]
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Her head turns and she looks over to him, eyes still glassy with tears she's refused to let fall. They're no longer brimming and threatening to fall, but the wet redness still shows enough evidence to give plenty of proof that this is an emotional and sensitive topic for her. The way he's looking at her like she's some kind of threat doesn't help matters, either.]
Yes. [It's barely a whisper, her voice cracking. She has to clear her throat and try again.]
Yeah, I did. I still do, so I'm not sure what that says about me.
[Both hands cover her mouth as soon as she clearly says it and the words hang in the open between them.]
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Karen... [ he starts, the same way he always does, but he takes a half-step backward, stopping just before the shelves full of bottles, colored glass casting eerie shapes over his bruised face in the dim light. ] It's not like I'm not- [ flattered? like he said to sarah, right? except he has to ditch that script. it's not fair to her. it's not even honest. she's being honest with him, but she says he doesn't owe her anything. does she really believe it? a darkness brews over his expression and she'll know from experience that what he says next will be just as grim. ]
I'm not who you think I am. I'm barely even a - who - at all. I know you want... a life for me, right? That's what you said. Well, my life ended two years ago. I think on some level you know that. [ frank takes two quick paces forward again, eyes hard when they meet hers. ] Is that what makes me "safe?"
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I know exactly who you are, and that scares the hell out of you.
[He's pacing and moving like a trapped animal, ready to lash out if it means safety. He's beyond scared. He's repulsed by her, and that's enough to make an answer to his question stay caught in her throat. He's not safe in the traditional sense. When she's with him, she feels safe because she knows he'd leave a body count behind before ever letting anything happen to her.]
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