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It never seemed to change between the two of them. She was constantly finding out he had been hurt, been captured and he would wake up to find her by his side. He would push her away, demand that she leave, desperately grateful that she was there. He would hear of a threat to her and nothing, nothing would stop him from getting to her. He shoved a near constant terror that one day he would be too late and he wouldn’t get there in time to the back of his mind as the only way he could function.
And then one day he had been too late. Fuck, he hadn’t even been in the same state. Hadn’t even known there had been a threat. Had somehow managed to fuck up once against and trust that she was safe enough. Safer because he was gone. But he’d forgotten that she had her own enemies.
“You are not the only reason I am going to be killed, Frank” Karen glared at him, her eyes shining with angry tears. “I have faced down death so many times, and only a few times have you been there. I’ve saved myself. Me. Not you. So if you think this is some stupid grand gesture, that this is-” she broke off, pivoting on her heel to turn away from him, unable to look at him, trying to quiet her anger.
“I know. I know. I never thought I saved you, just… kept you going long enough.” Frank’s words caught in his throat as he thought about how he had been forced to literally jump in front of Lewis’s bullets to stop them from reaching her. He hadn’t even thought, hadn’t paused. He just knew he couldn’t watch those bullets pierce Karen. The sick taste of fear and rage when Lewis held her tight against his explosive vest. “I just knew it was better if you weren’t around me,” he choked out, the words almost a growl as he forced them from between his teeth. Better for him, better to soak himself in someone else’s blood and pretend that she was untouched by it all. Better for her, for the hope that she would have… a chance.
“Oh fuck you! Better for who?”Karen whirled back around, her blue eyes so bright they seemed to sear through him, right to the heart of him. She always saw right to the heart of him, even if she didn’t realize.
“You. Me. Both. Karen…” God, he could do nothing but stumble over his words to her, all of his thoughts, his beliefs jumbled together with emotions he had refused to feel for so long. Rage he could do. He could do that all day long. This tangled mixture of panic, hope, loss, and desperation felt like Hell. Like losing his… like being on the edge of losing a different kind of family all over again. Before he had ever really had it.
Karen stared at the man in front of her, seeing even through her own anger his pupils dilating as they stuck on her, the harsh push and pull of air through his nose. His fingers were doing that all too familiar tap and twitch, although not just his trigger finger this time. He was vibrating with barely repressed… something. This never seemed to change either, this edge of something between them coming from him. Her anger was bright and harsh, her heart forced to harden against him in the months since he had pushed her away. Yet when he was in front of her, staring at her like she was the only thing keeping him breathing in the deep abyss of the universe… “Frank,” his name was the tired prayer of a broken heart from her lips. She moved just a few steps closer, until she could practically feel the vibrations of his body, his trembling, twitching fingers almost brushing against the edge of her coat. Gently, ever so gently, she reached her hand up and placed it against his cheek, her thumb grazing his neck just by the slamming, rushing pump of his veins.
He froze at her touch, eyes locked on hers, still not even sure if he was asking forgiveness for not being there for Fisk or any of the other awful, nightmare-inducing moments she had had to face by herself or asking her to let him be there now.
“You told me I couldn’t do it with you. That you wouldn’t let me throw my life away for you. That you wanted a war instead of…. Instead of anything else,” Karen’s words were quiet, rolling over the huff of his indrawn breath. “So I helped to get you out and… I let you walk out without me. And, and” Karen continued, her hand still on his cheek tensing just slightly as Frank squeezed his eyes shut before opening again, his eyes so bright and shining. She told herself her voice didn’t waver as she said, “I lived my life. It is broken and fucked up and it is mine. You always seem to forget that, that it is my life and my decision what to do with it.”
Frank felt like his chest was collapsing. He had been so sure in that hospital, so sure he knew what he needed, what she needed, how to save them both. Or at least save what was left of them. “I… I’m sorry. I’m so goddamn sorry, Karen,” the words gushed out of him on a harsh, fractured breath that was almost a sob as his gaze fell to the ground between them.
A long, slender finger touched his lips in a silent admonishment and his eyes shot to hers once more. She pressed her forehead to his, a familiar gesture as intimate as a kiss for them. “I don’t need apologies that change nothing,” she whispered, her eyes closed as she stood close enough for their breath to mingle. She withdrew her finger, her hand coming to rest on his shoulder. Almost of its own volition, his left hand reached over to just barely hold her waist. “I held on, even when it hurt.” The murmured words washed over him, soothing and stabbing at him all at once. Karen opened her eyes, meeting his as he absorbed her returning his advice from the diner a lifetime ago. Her hand left his shoulder, dropping to her side as she stepped out of his hold. Frank could feel the flex of his grip on her waist, but forced himself not to keep her as she moved away from him.
“You know where to find me if you decide you want to hold on too. No matter what.” With that, Karen turned and walked away.
He felt like he was on fire, like he had been shot in the chest, or his skin was nothing but broken glass. Every part of him hurt in a way he never thought he would as he watched her walk away from him. So, so close and yet so impossibility far away. There was an ache inside of him that he knew would never be soothed unless he did that one thing that felt even more impossible than this pain. Everything blurred around him except for Karen getting further and further away until his vision was nothing but her and all he could hear were the harsh bellows of his breath.
He broke.
Determination and years of hurt kept Karen’s spine straight and her feet moving forward, away from Frank. She wanted nothing more than to turn around, to argue with him, to push him, to hold him. But she had said her piece and done her time. She could not keep chasing. She was used to being pushed away, but God, it hurt so, so much.
She hadn’t even registered the sound of boots slamming into the concrete behind her when that warm, rough hand grabbed her arm and swung her around. “Stay.” The single word burst out of him like a gunshot and Karen stared, shocked, into his wild, panicked eyes. He was holding her by both arms now, the fingers of his right hand tapping out that familiar tempo against her upper arm.
“You need to mean it, Frank,” she whispered, almost unable to believe what she was seeing in his face, his eyes.
“I… Karen, stay. With me. I want to-” his exhale was sharp and his hands were cradling her face, his thumb stroking her cheek with one hand, the other sliding into the thick, pale gold of her hair gently pulling her forward as he leaned toward her. There was a pause, a moment of reverence as his lips hovered just barely touching hers. “Hold on.”
With those whispered words, any hesitation left them both and they crashed together.