[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.]
[ it's not her he's repulsed by, but she doesn't answer the question anyway and all frank can do is sigh. he scrubs his damaged hand over his damaged face and takes comfort from the pain. it's much more bearable than the turmoil twisting his guts inside out. ]
You know who I am when I'm saving your life. That's cute and it fits on a postcard all neat, but it's not who I am. Frank Castle is just another scumbag the Devil should've put down when he had the chance. [ he's angry and tired and scared and he doesn't care how much of it she can pick out really. his expression softens, but he stays at arm's length, he wouldn't want to go giving her any ideas now. ] I care whether you live or die because you're a real person, Karen. The City needs you. You think after what happened, after what I did, Hell's Kitchen is gonna be a safer place? New York, America? Fuck that. No really, fuck that. They paid me off, same as everyone else. Because everyone has a price.
Everyone... except you. [ karen has a lot of flaws, but her integrity isn't one of them. she'd die bringing the truth to light and that's what scares him so much about her. it's also why he'll always protect her, though. he takes a deep, shuddering breath, and feels himself deflate. that's about all the dramatic flair he has left in him for the moment. ]
[That's a lot of words, especially for him. She listens without interrupting, but her face twists and contorts into something that strongly resembles betrayal. It shouldn't, since he's just complimented her at the end of all that. But it hurts how he's essentially labeled her as an obligation due to keeping her alive because the city needs her. He's insulted her by daring to say that she doesn't know him beyond the Punisher, that she couldn't possibly see the real him, couldn't understand the Frank Castle that lies beneath all the pain and death that sits at his feet.]
You don't owe me anything, Frank. Not because you think other people need me. I want you to care about whether I live or die because you care about me.
[If you love something, you let them go. Set them free. Isn't that how it goes? Karen isn't sure what she feels completely, but she knows that she cares for him enough to give him an out. A chance to walk away.
She takes another few chugging swigs from the bottle before pushing it aside and moving to stand up. Her legs are wobbly, and she grips hold of the bar in order to keep herself standing upright.]
So no, Frank. What makes you safe isn't the fact that you think the city needs me. It isn't the fact that you go out of your way to protect me. It's the fact that you never lie to me. You're safe because I know you'd never intentionally hurt me. You respect me, which is something no other man has ever bothered doing before.
[On second thought, maybe she needs more to drink. Her head's already swimming, but she feels like she can handle a little more. She doesn't even know what she's arguing for anymore. Her shoulders slump as she drinks from the bottle, and she feels exhausted. When she speaks again, her voice is small and tired. She doesn't have any fight left in her, not that she wanted a fight at all.]
I didn't want to tell you I had feelings for you this way. And it's okay if you don't feel the same way. I just misread...a lot of things. I want there to be something out there for you, someone for you, but it doesn't have to be me.
[ this is way too much information at once, and he doesn't have the time to parse through all of her words by the time she gets to the end. he interrupts her anyway as his hand darts out for her arm when she wobbles. the concern reflected in his eyes can't be faked, but he doesn't try to prevent her from taking another drink. ]
That's not what I meant, Karen. [ it's as lame as ever but he lets go of her, even if his instincts make him want to vault the bartop right now. he knew, right? he had to have known she had feelings for him otherwise she wouldn't have asked him. but having it said so baldly like that - he wants to pretend he never heard it. he wants to take back the last ten minutes. no other man has ever bothered. he swallows, feeling as sober as she looks wasted right now. ] You didn't misread anything.
[ wait, did he just-- nevermind. it's not the point. ]
But you should raise the bar. [ some more dry humor, surprise surprise. ] I do respect you, but that should be a given, right? You're smart, you're some bigshot at a newspaper, you know superheroes. [ he's smiling now, obviously trying to lighten the mood. ] Come on, you're Karen Page. A very... drunk version of her, but you're still her.
[ and in any state she's better than he could ever be. ]
[He in no way lightens the mood for her. Despite this, she tries managing a smile, but she's got that confused look on her face as she tries to parse everything he's just said.]
Wait.
[She reaches for the bottle and misses, her hand slapping against the bartop instead. If it looks intentional, well, she guesses that's probably for the best.]
If I didn't misread anything, why are we still having this conversation? [Meaning: why hasn't he just kissed her yet?] Christ, Frank, do you hear yourself? You respect me, but not enough to let me decide what I want? Did you...what, did you intentionally lead me on?
[All the while, her arms are wildly gesturing while her legs wobble. Because her not misreading things is entirely the point here, and she focuses in on nothing but that.]
No. What? [ like he knows how to lead anyone on, karen. think that one through. he just... manages to keep doing it anyway. ] I don't want to hurt your feelings, alright. Help me out here.
[ tell me what to say. this is why he can't do these things; have these conversations. they go so far above his head so quickly. ]
I just killed half the city and you're asking me if I want to kiss you in an abandoned bar in outer space. [ give him a minute to process his shit jesus christ!! ]
[Her eyebrows arch comically higher and higher the more he talks. He's totally leading her on but is blind to the fact he's doing it, which is both hilarious and pathetic. But nothing is as funny as his assessment of the situation. That last sentence makes her laugh, a choked out sound that's definitely brought on by the alcohol.
Once she starts laughing, it takes her a few seconds to start. And Karen, in all her infinite intoxicated state, slips and her head slams down against the bartop. She's okay though, and rebounds quickly, still laughing even through a wince as she rubs at her forehead.]
Okay, as ridiculous as that sounds? You have to admit that this is the most time we've spent in one place without anyone trying to kill us. And the fact that I have to spell it out to you that you saying I didn't misread things is what's hurting my feelings just shows you have no idea what you're doing.
Are you laughing at me? [ he accuses even while a corner of his mouth twitches up. maria used to say things to him like "for a reconnaissance man, you sure miss what's right in front of your face" and he knows in her seat he'd probably be laughing at him too. he laughs too, shaking his head as he finally releases some tension. they're in space. everything else is tertiary at best, right? except when karen hits her head on the bar, he's taking action. sliding the bottle away from her and leaning in closer to make sure she's responsive. ] Jesus Christ, Karen.
[ stop giving him mini heart attacks. frank finally steps around to her side of the bar and puts a heavy hand on her shoulder. ]
If you don't know by now that I have no goddamn clue what I'm doing, then you really don't know me. [ it's a joke, and he's gently corralling her towards the corridor, ready and willing to carry her if it turns out she can't walk. ]
[It's a joke that manages to make her laugh, though she does spare a glance over her shoulder at the bottle she's leaving behind. She stumbles along after him as best as she can, thinking that she's walking just fine. ]
I don't remember the last time I drank that much at once.
[She did just chug an insane amount of unknown alcohol, and the floor is definitely starting to spin. But she's an independent woman and she creeps along down the hall unassisted for now.]
[ one hand settles around her waist for support while the other holds fast to her arm, a safeguard in case he can't catch her in time, even if he knows he will. he hopes she didn't drink like that because of him, but asking would start a whole new debate about obligation, wouldn't it? and for him the reason doesn't matter anyway. he wants her safe so he'll be there to make sure she is (and probably not a moment longer.) ]
To bed. [ again, he's oblivious to how it might sound, leading her with slow, but steadfast steps towards her room. ]
[If she weren't completely trashed right now, she might point out that he shouldn't be going anywhere near her bed. But since she is, she just takes his words at face value and nods a little. ]
I don't think I can stand up much longer.
[Which means she needs bed, really. She leans up against him for support and lets him guide her, any memory of their conversation now pleasantly forgotten in favor of just attempting to navigate this challenging thing called walking.]
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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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You know who I am when I'm saving your life. That's cute and it fits on a postcard all neat, but it's not who I am. Frank Castle is just another scumbag the Devil should've put down when he had the chance. [ he's angry and tired and scared and he doesn't care how much of it she can pick out really. his expression softens, but he stays at arm's length, he wouldn't want to go giving her any ideas now. ] I care whether you live or die because you're a real person, Karen. The City needs you. You think after what happened, after what I did, Hell's Kitchen is gonna be a safer place? New York, America? Fuck that. No really, fuck that. They paid me off, same as everyone else. Because everyone has a price.
Everyone... except you. [ karen has a lot of flaws, but her integrity isn't one of them. she'd die bringing the truth to light and that's what scares him so much about her. it's also why he'll always protect her, though. he takes a deep, shuddering breath, and feels himself deflate. that's about all the dramatic flair he has left in him for the moment. ]
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You don't owe me anything, Frank. Not because you think other people need me.
I want you to care about whether I live or die because you care about me.
[If you love something, you let them go. Set them free. Isn't that how it goes? Karen isn't sure what she feels completely, but she knows that she cares for him enough to give him an out. A chance to walk away.
She takes another few chugging swigs from the bottle before pushing it aside and moving to stand up. Her legs are wobbly, and she grips hold of the bar in order to keep herself standing upright.]
So no, Frank. What makes you safe isn't the fact that you think the city needs me. It isn't the fact that you go out of your way to protect me. It's the fact that you never lie to me. You're safe because I know you'd never intentionally hurt me. You respect me, which is something no other man has ever bothered doing before.
[On second thought, maybe she needs more to drink. Her head's already swimming, but she feels like she can handle a little more. She doesn't even know what she's arguing for anymore. Her shoulders slump as she drinks from the bottle, and she feels exhausted. When she speaks again, her voice is small and tired. She doesn't have any fight left in her, not that she wanted a fight at all.]
I didn't want to tell you I had feelings for you this way. And it's okay if you don't feel the same way. I just misread...a lot of things. I want there to be something out there for you, someone for you, but it doesn't have to be me.
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That's not what I meant, Karen. [ it's as lame as ever but he lets go of her, even if his instincts make him want to vault the bartop right now. he knew, right? he had to have known she had feelings for him otherwise she wouldn't have asked him. but having it said so baldly like that - he wants to pretend he never heard it. he wants to take back the last ten minutes. no other man has ever bothered. he swallows, feeling as sober as she looks wasted right now. ] You didn't misread anything.
[ wait, did he just-- nevermind. it's not the point. ]
But you should raise the bar. [ some more dry humor, surprise surprise. ] I do respect you, but that should be a given, right? You're smart, you're some bigshot at a newspaper, you know superheroes. [ he's smiling now, obviously trying to lighten the mood. ] Come on, you're Karen Page. A very... drunk version of her, but you're still her.
[ and in any state she's better than he could ever be. ]
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Wait.
[She reaches for the bottle and misses, her hand slapping against the bartop instead. If it looks intentional, well, she guesses that's probably for the best.]
If I didn't misread anything, why are we still having this conversation? [Meaning: why hasn't he just kissed her yet?] Christ, Frank, do you hear yourself? You respect me, but not enough to let me decide what I want? Did you...what, did you intentionally lead me on?
[All the while, her arms are wildly gesturing while her legs wobble. Because her not misreading things is entirely the point here, and she focuses in on nothing but that.]
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[ tell me what to say. this is why he can't do these things; have these conversations. they go so far above his head so quickly. ]
I just killed half the city and you're asking me if I want to kiss you in an abandoned bar in outer space. [ give him a minute to process his shit jesus christ!! ]
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Once she starts laughing, it takes her a few seconds to start. And Karen, in all her infinite intoxicated state, slips and her head slams down against the bartop. She's okay though, and rebounds quickly, still laughing even through a wince as she rubs at her forehead.]
Okay, as ridiculous as that sounds? You have to admit that this is the most time we've spent in one place without anyone trying to kill us. And the fact that I have to spell it out to you that you saying I didn't misread things is what's hurting my feelings just shows you have no idea what you're doing.
[She'll give him some time, OkAY?]
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[ stop giving him mini heart attacks. frank finally steps around to her side of the bar and puts a heavy hand on her shoulder. ]
If you don't know by now that I have no goddamn clue what I'm doing, then you really don't know me. [ it's a joke, and he's gently corralling her towards the corridor, ready and willing to carry her if it turns out she can't walk. ]
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I don't remember the last time I drank that much at once.
[She did just chug an insane amount of unknown alcohol, and the floor is definitely starting to spin. But she's an independent woman and she creeps along down the hall unassisted for now.]
Where are we going?
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To bed. [ again, he's oblivious to how it might sound, leading her with slow, but steadfast steps towards her room. ]
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I don't think I can stand up much longer.
[Which means she needs bed, really. She leans up against him for support and lets him guide her, any memory of their conversation now pleasantly forgotten in favor of just attempting to navigate this challenging thing called walking.]
And I'm pretty sure I'm going to be sick.
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