Chapter Text
“I’m sure he’s fine,” Matt said, leaning back in his chair like he believed it. Like he wasn’t listening to the way her pulse was just slightly too fast.
Karen exhaled through her nose. “Yeah. That’s what I keep telling myself.”
There was a pause. Papers rustled, but not in any productive way—more like she was moving them just to have something to do with her hands.
Matt tilted his head slightly. “How long?”
“Couple days.”
That wasn’t unusual.
Frank Castle disappearing for a few days barely qualified as noteworthy. Sometimes he vanished for weeks, reappeared covered in blood, and acted like it was just another Tuesday.
Still.
“And you’re worried because…?” Matt prompted.
She hesitated. That was new. “He said something before he left.”
Matt straightened a little, fingers tightening around the edge of his desk. “What kind of something?”
“He came by,” she said finally. “Didn’t stay long. Just—checked in, I guess. Asked if I was okay.”
“What else?” Matt asked.
Karen’s chair creaked as she leaned back. “He told me he had something to take care of. Didn’t say what. I didn’t ask.”
Another pause.
“But then,” she continued, quieter now, “he said—” She broke off, like she was reconsidering whether to say it at all.
Matt’s jaw tightened. “Karen.”
“He said, ‘If I don’t come back—’”
Matt was already on his feet before she finished the sentence.
“Matt—”
“When was this?”
“Two days ago,” Karen said quickly. “Matt, wait—”
But he was already moving, grabbing his coat, the world sharpening into focus around him as his senses stretched outward.
“Matt, he does this,” Karen insisted, following him toward the door. “He says things like that all the time—”
“No,” Matt cut in, voice low. “Not like this.”
Karen stopped.
Matt didn’t need to see her to know she understood what he meant.
Because Frank did say reckless things. Dramatic things.
But this?
This had weight, and Matt could feel it. “I’ll check on him,” he said, softer now. “Just in case.”
Karen hesitated, then nodded. “Okay.”
He paused at the door. “You’ll be here?”
“Yeah.”
“Call me if you hear anything.”
“I will.”
Frank’s place was quiet.
Too quiet.
Matt stood outside the door for a moment, listening.
Nothing.
No footsteps. No movement.
That wasn’t right.
Matt knocked once. “Frank.”
Silence.
He knocked again, harder this time. “Castle.”
Still nothing.
Matt’s jaw tightened.
He reached for the handle. And... it was locked.
Of course it is.
He didn’t hesitate.
The door gave way with a sharp crack, wood splintering under the force of his kick.
Matt stepped inside, senses flaring—
—and froze.
The apartment smelled like blood.
Fresh.
Not a lot, but enough.
“Frank.”
Still no response.
Matt moved forward, carefully now, listening for anything.
There.
A heartbeat.
Relief hit him first, sharp and immediate.
Followed quickly by something too close to concern.
Because that heartbeat was erratic.
Matt followed the sound, stepping over something on the floor—maybe a gun—and into the living area.
That’s where he found him.
Frank was slumped against the wall, one leg stretched out in front of him, the other bent awkwardly at the knee. His shirt was wet with blood, clinging to his side where the wound was.
His head was tilted back, eyes half-closed.
He seemed —
Matt swallowed.
He seemed bad.
“Frank.”
No response.
Matt crossed the room in two strides, dropping to his knees beside him. “Castle.”
He reached out, pressing two fingers against Frank’s neck.
The pulse was there.
Weak, but there.
“Hey,” Matt said, sharper now. “Come on. Stay with me.”
Frank’s breathing hitched slightly.
Then, after a moment—
“…y’know,” Frank rasped, voice dry and rough, “you coulda just knocked.”
Matt let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. “I did.”
Frank’s lips twitched faintly. “Yeah? Must’ve missed it.”
“You missed a lot of things,” Matt shot back. “Like basic first aid.”
Frank huffed a weak laugh, immediately regretting it if the way his breathing stuttered was anything to go by. “Was gettin’ to that.”
“Sure you were.”
Matt’s hands were already moving, assessing the wound, the damage. “What happened?”
Frank shifted slightly, wincing. “Got into a disagreement.”
Matt raised an eyebrow. “A disagreement.”
“Yeah.”
“With a knife?”
“Among other things.”
Matt sighed. “Of course.”
There was a pause.
Frank’s head lolled slightly to the side. “You break my door?”
“Yes.”
“…rude.”
“You’re bleeding out on the floor.”
“Yeah, well,” Frank muttered, “it’s my floor.”
Matt shook his head, but there was no real heat behind it. Just relief. “You’re an idiot,” he said, quieter now.
Frank hummed. “Been called worse.”
Matt hesitated, just for a second, before speaking again. “Karen’s worried about you.”
That got a reaction.
Frank’s heartbeat stuttered, just slightly. “…yeah?”
“She said you told her you might not come back.”
Frank was quiet for a long moment.
Then, finally—
“Wasn’t wrong.”
Matt’s hands stilled. “That wasn’t the point,” he said carefully.
Frank shrugged, or at least tried to. It came out more like a weak shift of his shoulders. “Point was, she deserved a heads-up.”
“No,” Matt said, sharper now. “The point is, you don’t get to just—” He cut himself off, exhaling slowly. “You don’t get to say things like that and then disappear.”
Frank was quiet again. “Wasn’t plannin’ on disappearin’.”
Matt let out a dry laugh. “Really? Because from where I’m sitting—”
“Didn’t think I’d make it back,” Frank interrupted.
Just like that.
No humor. No deflection.
Just the truth.
Matt went still.
Frank let his head fall back against the wall, eyes slipping shut again. “Figured I’d take care of it. One last thing.”
Matt’s chest tightened.
“One last thing,” he repeated quietly.
Frank didn’t respond.
For a moment, the room was silent except for the uneven rhythm of his breathing.
“You done playin’ doctor yet?” Frank muttered. “Or you plannin’ on givin’ me a lecture first?”
Matt huffed a quiet breath.
“There’s no reason I can’t do both.”
“Yeah, there is,” Frank said. “One’s annoyin’. The other hurts.”
Matt snorted despite himself. “You’re unbelievable.”
“Been told.”
Matt worked in silence for a few minutes, focusing on the immediate problem—stopping the bleeding, stabilizing the wound, making sure Frank wasn’t about to pass out again.
Frank didn’t make it easy.
He kept shifting, muttering under his breath, throwing in the occasional sarcastic comment just to prove he could.
It was… familiar.
Comforting, in a strange, frustrating way.
Eventually, Matt leaned back slightly, assessing his work.
“You’re not dying,” he said.
Frank cracked one eye open. “Damn. There goes my weekend plans.”
Matt rolled his eyes. “You’re staying here.”
“Wasn’t plannin’ on goin’ anywhere.”
“No,” Matt said firmly. “I mean it. You’re not going out. You’re not picking a fight. You’re not—”
“Alright, alright,” Frank cut in. “Relax.”
Matt hesitated.
Then, quieter—
“You scared her.”
Frank’s expression shifted, just slightly. “…yeah.”
“And you scared me.”
That got his attention.
Frank looked at him properly now, eyes a little clearer despite the exhaustion.
Matt held his gaze, even if he couldn’t see it.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
“You don’t have to do this alone,” Matt said.
Frank huffed. “Yeah, I do.”
“No,” Matt said firmly. “You don’t.”
Frank looked away.
Matt didn’t push.
He just sat there, steady and unmoving, a presence Frank couldn’t ignore even if he wanted to.
After a long moment, Frank exhaled slowly. “…you always this stubborn?”
Matt smiled faintly. “Only when it matters.”
Frank shook his head, but there was no real bite to it.
Another silence settled between them.
Not uncomfortable.
Just… there.
“If you need to talk,” Matt said after a while, “you can come to me.”
Frank didn’t respond right away.
Matt didn’t expect him to.
But after a moment, he heard it.
A small shift. A quiet breath.
“…yeah,” Frank muttered. “Sure, Red.”
It wasn’t much.
But it wasn’t nothing, either.
And for now?
It was enough.