bellare | ( OPEN ) Frank Castle

Caught. It draws a snort out of him as his hand hangs limply in hers. He doesn't try to wrest it away, he probably wouldn't have the strength to as it stands. But he has to wonder what Karen's take on this whole situation is.

"I was careful," he says flatly, remembering the only other time he had been tired enough to be caught as it were. And she'd visited him just this way, reminded him of his beautiful wife and beautiful son. His entire family, too, gunned down senselessly. Karen saw him through all of that — and was it really only two years ago? Slowly, his gaze swings back around to meet hers, but it's dim and tired, the morphine cutting into his usually bright stare, yes, but it's something else too. Like there's an albatross around his neck. "Have they charged me yet?"

Once a cop, always a cop. Something like that. It's probably pointless to think of due process when he's the Punisher, isn't it?

There's another part to that sentence he starts before he asks her about his charges. She lets her head hang for just a second before looking at him. There's no beating around the bush with him, that's for sure.

"They said that you killed members of that gang that's been robbing a bunch of banks lately, uh..." She's pulling a blank at it's name, but she'd never forget who the ringleader was. "Billy Russo's gang?" And she pauses, because this is the part that made her question what she was being told. "And... there were some women involved, apparently."

He nods, stiltedly, swallowing past his dry throat and turning to look at their joined hands again.

"I think I was set up," he begins, but it's soft, not certain on any level. "But if I wasn't, then that makes me the monster, doesn't it?"

Hazel crashes into icy blue as a wan smile tugs at his torn lips. He wants to say she shouldn't have come here, again, but what good would it do him?

"I believe in innocent until proven guilty," She begins, knowing he's not a believer in that statement whatsoever. "I think your past and your name speak for itself. The Punisher doesn't exactly kill innocent people, he punishes the bad ones. You had no reason or motive to kill these women, Frank, so even if you didn't tell me that you think you were set up I would have already came to that conclusion on my own. And I did, that's why I'm here."

Karen gives him another soft squeeze, offering a small smile back at him. She'll always in his corner, even if it's her biggest downfall.

He can't help but roll his eyes at that. Innocent until proven guilty, what a joke. "You were at my trial." He was convicted, he is guilty, just... maybe not of this crime, in specific. He does squeeze her hand back this time, though it's meek. He looks from her hand back up to her face again. "I didn't clear the room, Karen. I can't say for sure what happened."

So she's here to... what, investigate? Just thinking about that tires him out.

"Does Matt Murdock know you're here?"

"He will, I'm sure. I didn't tell him I was coming, if that's what you're asking." Why would she? Things with Matt were... Getting better, for the most part. They all three were transitioning into a career and a life together again, but she still had her reservations about him.

"Foggy is actually the one who told me about you. I thought maybe he was trying to get a hold of me about some paper work or something." It was obvious even to those around her how much Karen cared for him.

"Foggy," he says softly, in a tone that could almost be mistaken for fondness. "He had to know you'd come down here."

Frank closes his eyes, there's something peaceful about him now, like he's finally given up. Maybe he can finally get a fucking nap, at least.

"That he did," Karen agrees with a single nod, running her thumb over the top of his hand. In the back of her mind she wonders if this is something he wants her to be doing. It's been a roller coaster of emotions with him since she's met him, but the last thing she wanted was to do something that would push him even more further away from her than she already was.

"Why don't you get some rest?" With attentive as she is and with how bad he looks, Karen takes notice of his eyes closing. If he's willingly doing that he must be tired. She gives him one final squeeze before gently pulling away from him.

"You can ask anything you want while suppressing the urge to tell me to leave when you get up again," She gives him a bit of a tease. "Because no, I'm not going anywhere."

"Deal," he murmurs as he slips off again. He's either learned that he can't talk her out of anything or he's just too tired to argue. Let's face it: it's probably an even combination of both. He's out for another hour, approaching 90 minutes, when he suddenly wakes again. Much less violently than the first time and almost immediately lucid. Frank looks down at their hands where they're still entwined and sighs at the feeling of the cuffs. At least he'll be able to get some real rest, right? Except whatever Karen is about to suggest he's already assuming will be some type of insane, and he'll probably go along with it because he has nothing left to lose.

That is: except Amy. He swallows dryly, watching Karen doze uncomfortably against the rail of his bed and rattles the cuff against it to try and wake her.

"You're going to get a cramp doing that."

( OPEN ) Frank Castle

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