#what the hell they got my man frank saw-every-murder-ever doing in this prison???

[king-magppi]

Leave it to THIS guy to find a way to serve cunt AND a sentence at the same time. I'm sorry but it must be said.

[sunny-wolff]

secrets and lies

here is my first fic for the @badthingshappenbingo 

Fandom: Marvel Pairing/Characters: Billy Russo x Reader, Frank Castle Prompt: Lured into a trap Summary:   the one where you find out that your best friend is alive, your fiancé is one of the few that knew and set up the hit on your family. now, you must decide who you trust is telling the truth and come face to face with all the dirty secrets that have been hidden. Word Count: 5,510 Warnings: trust issues, betrayal, presumed death, minor violence, slight angst and hurt/comfort, threats of violence AO3 Link: here 

Tumblr version after cut. enjoy! :)

~*~*~*~

“I need you to stop talking. You’re supposed to be dead.”

You stare disbelievingly at the man who showed up on your doorstep out of nowhere and is still talking like you never said a word. It’s a man you once knew very well. A man you grew up with and watched get buried next to his family. A man who is currently covered in blood, head to toe. While his face is bruised to all hell, like he willingly became someone’s personal punching bag. A man who is very clearly still alive. Your oldest and only cousin the King was standing in your kitchen like you guys do this every single week.

And the only thing he’s talking about how your fiancé isn’t who he says he is, how dangerous he is and that you are in serious danger.

“Please stop talking.” You try interrupting him again because you have no idea what the actual hell he is talking about. But like the stubborn ass he is, he just ignores you again.

“Francis, can you shut up for one second?!” Once he goes quiet, you take a much-needed deep breath and raise your hand toward his face. “Frankie, you’re alive. How are y—how is that possible? Where have you been?”

Frank walks up to you and pulls you in to his arms, squeezing you tightly. “I’m sorry kid. I know this must be a lot, but I need you to buck up and listen, yeah? I’ll explain everything later but right now I gotta keep the Princess safe.”

Holding your breath, you just leave your arms down at your sides. Not returning his hug at all because of that name.

That stupid nickname from when you were kids was confusing you, it was only used when things were extremely serious, or danger was around the corner. You had only heard it twice and both of those times were for very good reasons. The first time was when your dad was injured in his last tour over seas and Frank had come home to be the one to tell you. “Princess, I’m so sorry. Uncle, your dad, he is not coming home the same person that he left. He got hurt, real bad.” The second time was when his wife and kids were killed, and he knew someone was going after everyone close to him. “You need to get to the safe house now, Princess! I’ll explain later but I really need you to stay put until it’s safe.”

So, the fact that he is using that name, now, means something is very wrong and you finally hug him back.

You nod and stand straighter, clenching your jaw for a second. “Okay, marine. But don’t think you’re going to get out of this without explaining how you aren’t in the casket we- the casket I buried you in.” You try to fight the smile that happens when your cousin pulls away from the hug and takes the invisible crown off his head just to place it on yours.

“Wouldn’t think of it, princess. Now, like I was trying to tell you before you so rudely interrupted me – about Russo – you may want to sit down for this. It’s going to be a lot to take in.” With a single nod from you, Frank leads you over to the couch and sits on the coffee table in front of you.

A look settled over his face. It was a look that made your heart stop because it usually meant that someone died. The very last time you saw that look on him was when you were nine and Frank was the one to tell you that your mom was killed in a hit and run accident and you had to go live with him and his parents now.

Frank watched you for a couple minutes. Searching for something or just trying to find the right words to speak, you weren’t sure but whatever it was he must have figured it out.

In the next moment he is squeezing your hands once more before locking eyes with you. “Russo isn’t who he’s been pretending to be all these years.” Before you had the chance to say anything, Frank just gave you a look and you just listened to him explain what he meant.

That’s how you came to learn of the truth on the deaths of Maria and the kids and the attempted murder of your cousin. You learned about the reason behind all the killings that happened in Hells Kitchen with the gangs and in the prison. He told you everything he knew and did – like working with Micro, who had the something very similar happen to him, to take down the people who destroyed their lives, to chaining Daredevil to a roof because he was being annoying in trying to stop Frank when he was looking to ‘talk’ to the people at the carousel that day. Which you obviously scolded him for doing, after laughing for a few minutes since you now knew who Is behind the Daredevil mask, because chaining people to a roof is never a nice thing to do but Francis Castle was never nice to most people.

He told you about him taking the guns right from underneath Homeland’s nose and then stopping to pull out the agent in charge after the crash happened. You were informed that Curt knew about Frankie being alive and he had to stop you from going to Curt’s place to punch him in the nose for keeping this from you. And then finally Frank told you how your fiancé, Billy Russo, was involved in all of this.

And you cried.

You just cried and cried in his arms for well over an hour because you were too overwhelmed with all the information and a part of you couldn’t believe that Bill could do something like that to his family – to your family.

“He wouldn’t do that, Frankie. You’re wrong. Someone had to have gotten their information mixed up. Maybe Billy was another target on a list? What if it was meant to be only him that was supposed to be killed that day? You have to be wrong. You have to be.” You rambled on while tears still slid down your face.

Frank looked down at the floor and when he looked back up at you, he handed you a file that you did not even realize he had.

Through clenched teeth, he muttered, “I’m not wrong, princess. He was involved with my—with our family dying. I was supposed to die with them and according to that,” he gestured to the file in your hands. “He was going to either give you to the person he answers to as payment for something or he was going to let them come to finish off the Castle bloodline by killing you.”

Sitting there you were shocked and just staring at the closed file in your hands. You couldn’t find the strength to open it and look through the papers and read what your cousin was telling you. Frank Castle was a lot of things, but he was never a liar, so you knew without a doubt that he was being 1000 percent honest with you about what he found.

“Princess, there is one more detail that might really hurt you. It’s part of why I’m here, right now. I came as soon as I saw what was in that file.”

Loosening your grip on the folder, you let it fall to the floor as you stare at Frank’s constantly moving trigger finger. You don’t notice his other hand has moved until he places two fingers under your chin and tilts it up to look him in the eye.

“What is it?” A defeated sigh leaves your lips, “Frankie, what could possibly hurt me more than the learning that my fiancé had a part in the killings of our family, tried to have you killed more than once and is now trying to figure out the best way to deal with me? What is worse than all that?” You cry out.

Frank wipes a few tears away and squeezes your right hand. “Whatever he’s planning on doing, it’s being set up to happen on a specific date that’s coming up soon.”

“A specific date? Am I supposed to know what the hell that means? The only day that we have plans set for that is coming up is—no. Frank, please don’t tell me it—”

“It’s the 17th of October.” He pauses and squeezes your hand again. “His plan is supposed to go into motion on that day.”

A tearful smile crosses your face. “I’m going to die on the day proposed to me on?” A bitter laugh escapes you before you can stop it. “At least you can say Billy is very fucking consistent.”

Your cousin grips the back of your neck, squeezing and leans his forehead against yours. “Hey. You listen to me, yeah?” He grits out. “Don’t ever let me hear you say repeat that shit. You aren’t going to die, kid. I’ll kill every single one of them a thousand times over before they even think to lay a finger on you again, understand? We still have a while to get a plan together to get you out of here and away from him. You trust me, yeah?”

Nodding, you whisper. “Yeah, cousin. I trust you.” He nods once back at you and stands up heading back into the kitchen. You can hear him opening cabinets and the coffee machine start making noises, so you stay in your spot and just let everything settle in your head. This is way too much to handle all at once, with finding out your last family member has been alive all this time and the truth of what happened with your family. Then on top of that, learning that your fiancé, Billy fucking Russo, has been involved in all the bad shit.

Plus, now, you don’t even really know if you fell in love with a façade, he was forced to put on to keep you close for whoever he answers to or if you fell in love with the real Billy. You don’t know which would be worse at this point but either way, you were going to end up heartbroken. Now it was just a matter of if any deaths will come of it and if so, who’s death will it be?

When Frank comes back with two cups of plain black coffee you give him a small but thankful smile and take one from him. As you blow to cool it down, you realize something that makes your heart stop for the second or third time that night.

“Frank, you’re wrong.”

He takes a drink of the still boiling coffee and simply raises an eyebrow at you. Which roughly translates to, “I’m never wrong about anything but what are you talking about?”

Noticing your hands start to shake a little bit, you set the coffee down on the table and place them under your thighs. “You said we had a while to get a plan together, you’re wrong.”

“I’m not wrong, kid. It’s probably just your nerves on edge because of everything you heard today.”

You shake your head vehemently. “Frankie, you’re wrong! It’s October 15th right now which means there is a little over a day for your plan to come together before Billy comes back to get me. He told me he had a client a couple hours away to tend to but he would be back by our anniversary to take me out.”

Standing up, Frank walks over to you, pulls you up from the couch and into the bearhug that always had a way of making you feel extremely safe. “That’s plenty of time, don’t worry about it, yeah? Just go pack a bag princess, you’re going to come stay with me and Micro until this is settled.” You wrap your arms around his waist and softly agree to get some of your things together and once you’re done he grabs his duffle bag and places the file back in it and pulls you outside to a not-as-creepy-as-a-white- van and takes a route to where you will be staying for the foreseeable future.

Being at the bunker is very strange. You’ve only been here for five hours and you don’t have anything to do but worry and stress over the possibility of you dying or of Frank getting himself killed trying to protect you. So, you decide the best thing to do, instead of worrying on how you and your cousin will eventually die, is to hover behind Micro. Who, you learned is actually a guy named David Lieberman, after being there for ten minutes. The only reason you figured that out was when your cousin yelled it out as loud as possible when Micro insisted that ‘Micro’ was honestly his legal name and that was the only thing you could call him.  

“You are always sucking the fun out everything, Castle. Stop being a fun-sucker.” David mumbles under his breath but loud enough you can still hear it and you let out a little snort, making him jump in his chair. “Jesus. You Castle’s are really trying to kill me, aren’t you? One with guns and the other is going to give be a damn heart attack.”

Trying and failing to stifle your laughter, you offer David some of your skittles as an apology and take a seat next to him. “I didn’t mean to scare you, Davey; I was just trying to see what you were doing and if it’s something I could learn.”

Micro raises an eyebrow at you. “You, princess of the Castle bloodline, want to learn how to do all,” he pauses to wave his hands towards all his computers, “this?”

You start to nod but that’s all you can do in reply before Frank walks over and shoves at David’s shoulder. “Shut it, Lieberman. Only I’m allowed to call her princess, yeah? And if I hear you call me a “fun-sucker” again I’m going to show you just how much fun I can be with all my new ‘toys’. Now, tell me what you have so far?”

David sends you a he is so bossy look before he starts typing and clicking on things all over his computer screens. You see some pictures of Billy pop up and it makes you flinch a little. Frank immediately notices, rolls his chair next to yours and knocks his knee against yours in the typical Castle way of saying, you’re not alone; I got you. Always.

Knocking your knee back in to his, you place your head on his shoulder and listen to David  explain that Billy has been a 15-minute drive away from you for these past three weeks he’s been “working” and that he’s at some place that Frank had been before a few weeks ago. He goes on to show blueprints to three buildings and some notes, written in Billy’s writing, that are very detailed descriptions of ways to get away with lying to someone, who was trained by a marine to spot things or people out of place.

The one thing that stands out to you is the simple two sentences at the end of each description and those two sentences break your heart a little more each time you read them over again.

“Target will be completely unarmed when taken. They trust me irrevocably, so they won’t question a thing as long as I’m there to keep them in their place.”

You know there is going to be worse things than that as David keeps showing your cousin everything he’s found, so you decide to try and get some sleep. Standing, you lean down to give Lieberman a hug and thank him for letting you stay at his secret basement, man lair. Then you hug Frank and plant a kiss on his cheek before you go lay down on the little bed he set up for you. There isn’t a way out of this situation without one of the men you love with everything in you getting hurt.

You fall asleep quickly and sleep well into the next day; you honestly think you would have slept a lot longer if it wasn’t for your cousin getting mad at something Micro said or did and was currently threatening loudly to put a bullet in his leg.

Groaning loudly, you throw your arm over your eyes and murmur, “Frankie. Shut up and leave the poor guy alone. He’s had to live with you for however long it’s been and I know how that feels. Stop threatening him and just admit you have a soft spot for your little computer wizard.”

The only thing you hear after is David laughing as loud as he could and Frank grumbling as quietly as he could.

Just as you are on the edge of falling back by listening to the two men get along, you feel a body drop gracelessly down on the end of your little bed and is constantly moving. Finally peeking your eyes open, you see Micro wiggling in place where he dropped and Frank standing right behind him. Serious and grave looks glued to their facial features and you don’t have to be Einstein to know they have a plan but it’s not the best considering how short on time you are.

As you open your mouth to ask a question, David blurts out the ‘plan’.

Not saying anything, you stare at him until he finally repeats what he just blurted out.

“He has to take you.” David mumbles, quieter than before.

You glance back and forth between David and your cousin and wait for them to continue with the master plan.

“I don’t like it, but he’s right kid.” Frank continues. “Bill’s going to arrive at your place, where you will be dressed and waiting. You said he always takes you out to dinner for your engagement anniversary, right? Then that won’t change, let him do what he normally would, the only difference this time is we will be there watching out for you. You’re going to be safe the entire time, I promise you that.” He notices your hands are twitching where they lay in your lap and he places his on top. “It’s going to be okay, kid. I did some work while you were sleeping and now there is only one route he can take to get to your favorite restaurant but he has to drive by some empty warehouses to get there and I’ll be waiting for you in the third one, alright?”

Frozen in fear of what you realize is going to happen very soon, you nod your understanding of the plan and let it play out a few times in your head before you get up to get ready.

It’s time to soldier up, princess. You hear 15-year-old Frank’s words bounce around in your head as you finish the curling the last piece of your hair and put on your lipstick. We’ve got a war to win. These words come through next once you are in the car.

You look at the time on your phone and you try to get a handle on your nerves as you arrive to the condo you live at with Billy.

“You’ll be safe, Castle Junior. You know Frank will be in the third warehouse; he has the nails set in the road so the tires will go flat quick enough that Billy will have to stop right near the third warehouse, and Frank will handle everything else. I’ll be in the sky and everywhere else keeping an eye for his team.” Sending him a thankful smile for going over everything one last time you open the door and step out. Just as your about to close it, David calls for you again.

“Princess. When I say you need to go, please don’t ignore it. You may have met me for the first time yesterday, but it feels like I’ve known you as long as Frank has with all the stories he told me and neither of us can lose another person to these people.” You nod once and take a step back again, waiting to see if he says what you already know. When he doesn’t, you close the door and turn around to head into the building.

And that’s when you hear the motor of the window and his voice following you up the sidewalk.

“You may not get to say ‘goodbye’ to him, CJ. Don’t jeopardize your life to give him one.”

Not turning back to face the van, you tilt your head to the side to show you heard him. You wait there, unmoving, until you hear the van pull away before you take a shaky breath, steel your nerves once more and continue inside to what was once your home.

~~~~~~~

It is about two hours later when you are back on the road. You had dinner with your fiancé, talked about the future like you normally would, shared dessert, took pictures on your usual walk around the park. It was a normal anniversary celebration night. You were back in the SUV and on your way home when you realize you are nearing the stretch of road with all the warehouses. And a small part of you starts to feel the dread coming.

You frown at Billy when you notice he has his phone in his hand. “Hey, y’know it’s dangerous to text and drive, Bill? I wouldn’t want my fiancé to get arrested on our anniversary.” Billy chuckles and puts his phone back in his pocket. He pats your thigh twice before focusing back on the road.

Looking out the front windows you see the warehouses getting closer and your nerves spike. You start thinking about the worst-case scenarios and just as your about to call Micro, you see it. The smallest glint on the wall of one of the warehouses, that could be assumed to be made by the moonlight, but you knew better.  

And that is when you hear a pop and Billy lets out a curse. “Sorry, baby. It’s probably just one of the tires going flat. I’ll get it fixed though, you just stay in the car, okay?” Nodding your head, you wait until you hear the car door shut before you look closer at the building. Looking for something other than the small glint on the wall and sure enough, you notice a shadow standing on the roof of the building.

It is not noticeable unless you were really looking for something that doesn’t belong. The only reason you were able to see it was the glint, which was the drone hovering over the shadow.

You knew without a shadow of a doubt that Frank had his face painted, vest on, at least three weapons on him and one near the entrance of the building where you are supposed to head towards – he’s ready for a war.

And as nervous, heartbroken and confused as you feel – so are you.

Within the first minute of Billy getting the spare tire out of the back of the SUV, he makes a joke about how this is a perfect place for an ambush. You knew it was a joke that he didn’t want you to hear because there was absolutely no reason for either of you to be ambushed. But you can tell by his body language, he’s not sure if he should be worried or not. When you climb out of the car, you can see that he’s trying to laugh it off.

Billy looks at you, with a question on the tip of his tongue when you both hear a noise from inside the warehouse.

As Billy pulls out his phone, he looks over at you and yells, “baby, get back in the car now! Stay there and stay hidden until I come back for you!” You don’t move, just stare at him as he sends a couple messages out and when he realizes, he begins to yell again.

That is until Frank jumps down on the wooden crates right in front of the car and suddenly, all hell breaks loose.

You turn to run towards the entrance, where you knew Frank had hid the other gun and where you’d be safe, but the second Billy sees it’s Frank standing there all geared up, your fiancé immediately rushes to stand between you and his old best friend. It confuses you for a second and that split second is what causes your mind to spiral into the questions you avoided thinking about.

Why is he protecting you now? Why was he involved with what happened to your family? How did he get involved in all this? Why didn’t he stop it? If he was scared why didn’t he tell Frank or you or anyone else? Why did he do it at all? Why did he propose when he knew that the Castle’s were the only family you had, and he took that all away – from both of you? Why is he doing this now? Why didn’t frank come to you sooner? Why you? Why is he trying to break the last few pieces of your heart by not owning up to his plan of handing you over to his boss or killing you? Why in the hell do you still love him knowing everything he’s done and plans to do?

You don’t realize you were mumbling some of these questions until Billy turns around and faces you with a stunned look and an angry glint in his eyes. And now you are face to face with the man who has the blood of your family on his hands. The man who is trying to convince you everything your cousin has told you is a lie.

Billy is begging you to believe him. “Tesoro. C’mon, please don’t tell me you actually believe him? He’s been lying to you for months about not actually being dead! How can you believe him that I was apart of what happened to your family?” When you don’t say anything he shakes his head and a long sigh escapes his lips. “Okay, I haven’t been completely honest about this but neither has he, baby. Your cousin knew about what happened to Maria and the kids because he helped set it up! He didn’t want to give up killing when we came back from our last tour. He got addicted to it and he knew they would hold him back from doing what he wanted. That’s the truth.”He HH

He grabs your left hand and runs his thumb over your engagement ring. “This, right here baby, should show you who is on your side.” Pulling your hand out of his, you feel a tear fall down your face as you take a step back. You see the moment Billy realizes he’s already lost you and that’s when he grabs your face and kisses you hard, trying to make a statement, trying to bring you back to him. Shoving him back you realize you’re full on crying and mumbling repeatedly, “why, why, why?”

Your fiancé leans to grab you again and Frank finally gets Billy’s attention again. Frank hasn’t said a single word since this whole thing started playing out. The only thing he does is aim his gun right at Bill’s head the minute Billy starts whispering something to you in Italian. As your brain registers what he’s said, you start crying harder than before and stumble back against the car.

“You aren’t telling her the truth, Bill. Tell her what you did!” Frank spits out. “Tell her how you were going to give her over to Agent Orange once you got home! Yeah. I know about it all. I know everything that you’ve been doing and every pot you have your hands in. Tell the woman you love, the woman you proposed too, tell my baby cousin how you planned her death out, Russo!”

Billy starts shaking his head back and forth. Talking about things that don’t make sense and when he mentions the steak and ribs dinner he loves to have; you know what’s happening.

You sense, more than feel, Bill move to grab the gun from his belt before you drop the knife from your sleeve and hold it to his neck. “You’re stalling, micio,” you say hoarsely. “Please don’t do anything stupid and just do what Frankie says.”

Billy laughs, it’s one you’ve never heard before and you can see a darkness in his eyes that was never there before. “C’mon, anima mia, put that down. You aren’t going to use it. You’ll only hurt yourself or if Frankie boy keeps aiming that gun at me, I could kill you with it before he gets one shot off.”

With a tearful laugh, you shake your head in slight disappointment. “Bill, please. Please just stop this. I-I- I will do this, you know that. You know I’ll hurt you if I have to because you are the one who trained me for this exact situation,” you murmured. “Granted, you swore it would probably be a random stranger or someone who wanted to go after you, so you made me train for weeks upon weeks until you thought I was good enough. I was your secret weapon, remember?”

Bill moves suddenly and you let the training he gave you kick in as you slice across his chest before you stab it into his shoulder. The way you moved gave Frank an opening and you heard the gun go off four times. You completely expected the shots to be in his chest but they there was one in each of his legs and two in his gut.

There was a lot of blood and Billy wasn’t moving. But neither were you. Frank was still giving him the chance to tell you the truth but it was like time had stopped.

You were staring at his shoulder. At the knife Frankie got you before he left to his last deployment, sticking out of your fiancé’s shoulder. You were numb. Nothing was really registering in your head, you still couldn’t believe Billy was part of this whole thing to begin with.

You didn’t realize you were still crying and you completely forgot you weren’t alone with your slowly dying fiancé until you felt a hand softly touch your shoulder before your cousin turned you away from Billy’s body.

“I’m sorry this happened, princess. I didn’t want to get you involved in this,” He pulls you in to a hug and you grip onto his arms. “But you deserved to know, and I knew if our positions were switched you would have told me too.”

Frank’s phone went off and he answered it while you still clung to him. You weren’t really paying attention to his words because he shifted his stance and now you were again staring at Billy from over his shoulder. Only this time his eyes were open and it looked like he was trying to speak while reaching out for you.

Frank tightened his grip around you and kissed the side of your head. “C’mon kid, we gotta go, yeah? His back up is about seven minutes out.”

You nodded once and let Frankie start leading you away before something in you forced you to stop and run back to where Billy laid. Your cousin didn’t try to stop you, he knew this was the only closure you could get so he let you go. Dropping to your knees you grab Billy’s hand and lean your forehead against his. “I’m sorry,” you croak and squeeze your eyes shut and try to get your breathing under control. “Ti amo, più di ogni altra cosa, mio amore. Sempre.”

You hear Frank’s phone ring again and his gruff voice calls out, “princess, I hate to do this but we gotta go now. That was a two-minute warning.”

You nod not caring if he is looking as you stare into Billy’s eyes for a second before you place one last kiss on his lips.

You get up and run to Frank’s side as he heads towards the exit. You turn your head as you get to the door and then your hand is in Frank’s as he pulls you along to the van where David was waiting. There was no other sound other than both of your footsteps on gravel and the lingering echo of the final words to your fiancé.

“Maybe in another lifetime, goodbye my love.”

What you didn't hear as you ran towards safety was someone running through the building or Billy's reply as the person applied pressure to his wounds.

"In every lifetime, I’m yours. I'll find you again in this one, my love, and I will get you back."

[phaedrecameron]

The Accused, James Fraser Chapter 5 Mens Rea

Claire was startled awake. She felt Frank’s breath on her neck; his hand on her breast. Since learning of Frank’s most recent affair, she’d been sleeping on the sofa in her home office. Frank didn’t seem to mind. He kept late nights. But after her meeting with Fraser, the office was no longer comforting.

Claire wanted to leave, but Geillis, herself twice divorced, warned against rash action.

“Get yerself a good lawyer, get yer finances in order, find a place to stay where he can’t find ye, and get proof,”Geillis had instructed. She even suggested Claire hire a private investigator.

Ultimately, Claire had agreed to stay. She didn’t want Frank to have the upper hand; not ever again. She needed to prepare to leave him. But she’d been busy with work, busy with the Fraser case.

Now Claire could no longer wait.

“Don’t!” Claire spat as she pushed Frank’s hand away and got up from their bed.

“What’s gotten into you?” Frank asked as he sat up.

“I don’t like being awoken for sex.” At least not by you.

“Since when? I’ve been plenty patient, Claire.”

“Patient!? I’ve al..”

“I’m trying to make this work!” Frank cut her off as though she had not spoken. “I’ve given you your space, haven’t I? I agreed to your therapy? Agreed not to ask for your help? Agreed to raise a child not my own? Is that it? You’ve decided adoption? And that’s it. It’s always your way, Claire. You can’t give me anything.”

“How dare you, you goddamn bloody bastard!” Claire’s voice shook with rage. Instinctively, her eyes searched for something to throw at him, finding nothing, her fists curled. “I’ve given up everything for you! I moved to a foreign country for you. I had to take extra classes and exams to become licensed to practice in America. I went to all your boring work functions and humored all your pretentious asshole colleagues!” She closed her eyes, her voice now under control, “it takes two people to make a child and sometimes those people can’t, it isn’t anyone’s fault.”

Frank walked toward their bathroom. He turned to face her. “Don’t play the victim, Claire. I didn’t force you to do any of that. Those are the things you should want to do if you love someone. And you barely did it. You couldn’t be quiet. So what if you had to listen to a few old timers? I needed those people for my work and you embarrassed me every time.”

“I’m not the meek and obedient type!” Claire shot back. “I’m sure Sandy and all the others are more than happy to be doormats for your success.”

“Sandy was there for me when you refused to be. I let her go for you. I asked you to try for a child of our own blood and you even half-assed that.” Frank shut the bathroom door.

Claire removed her wedding ring, got dressed and left.

**************************************************************************************

John Grey was trying not to vomit. He’d been pulling double duty; prepping the Fraser case and actively avoiding his family. The case wasn’t coming together as he’d liked and he felt the telltale sign of a tension headache beginning to form. He’d left his fifth floor office at the Boston Criminal Court Building to retrieve what he hoped would be the cure; caffeine. Once at the first floor cafeteria, Grey had to choose between the lesser of two evils; an espresso macchiato or a cortado. He knew the the barista couldn’t even manage a decent hot cocoa, but he was desperate. He grabbed the cortado and decided a five minute break would do him good. He took a sip and made to sit on one of the cafeteria’s hard plastic chairs.

Christ! Grey thought as the offensively bitter and unbalanced liquid hit his palate. It was all he could do to keep it down. Then he noticed a dribble on his tie. He glared at the barista. He vaguely wondered if his family could begin a community outreach program to train baristas from underprivileged backgrounds. He immediately dismissed the idea as elitist bullshit. And it would require him to speak to Hal.

Grey observed the mass of jurors, attorneys, and witnesses as they scrambled to make the afternoon court sessions. He sighed. John was feeling the pressure. James Fraser had been cleared for trial by Dr. Claire Beauchamp. Her report hadn’t been expected for at least another two weeks and the State’s case was nowhere near ready for a jury. John got a reprieve when Fraser’s next court appearance had been postponed 3 weeks. Fraser had broken several bones in his left hand and the case was delayed while he underwent surgery and started a rehab schedule.

Grey chalked that incident up to reality hitting Fraser square in the face. The State had filed murder charges and a special allegation for use of a knife in the commission of a felony. He was facing life in prison, with no chance of parole.

John’s boss, Harry, had authorized the charges after they were briefed by Detectives Christie and Cinnamon. John remembered Christie explaining that Fraser should “fry.” John’s face soured at the thought. John had a personal dislike of Christie. The man made too many off color comments and was frankly a neanderthal. He was rumored to have been forced to attend sensitivity training on more than one occasion, but he did present well on the stand. John wasn’t familiar with Christie’s new partner, Cinnamon, who was considerably younger. Cinnamon appeared to be around John’s age. He was fit, tall, sexy, and slightly brown- everything Christie wasn’t. John wondered if Cinnamon was part of Christies’ on-going sensitivity training.

John pushed Christie from his mind. He was more worried about his own skill. This would be the biggest case of career. But so far Harry had supported his choices, including Beauchamp for the eval.

“Good, Beauchamp’s good,” Harry had said. Not up for anyone’s bullshit, she’s got that fantastic ass and accent to match.”

Grey had stared at his boss.

“What!” cried Harry. “I’m not dead yet, and you know as well as I do that jurors are more likely to believe good looking people! Besides, that’s why I put you on this case.”

Grey hadn’t known whether to be flattered or offended.

John felt his phone vibrate, but ignored it. He thought of Frasers’s lawyer and felt a twinge just behind his left eye. Fraser was represented by one of the best public defenders in the State, Ned Gowan. But Gowan was a court appointed attorney. “I thought for sure he’d have some fancy uptown lawyer. He’s rich isn’t he?” Harry had asked.

“Yup, but he’s also smart. Ned’s the best homicide defense attorney in the state. I need to bring my A game.” John had countered. But it did give him pause.

Truthfully, there was something off about the entire case. There was no motive. John swirled the black sludge in his cup. Yes, Fraser was caught on CCTV arguing with Laoghaire MacKenzie a few days before her murder. The night of her murder, Fraser lured her to a bar where they were caught, yet again, arguing on CCTV. Fraser then forcibly moved Mackenzie to an alley behind the bar - an area not covered by video surveillance. Within minutes she was dead.

Yet, why? Grey thought. The obvious answer being he was a spurned lover. Fraser stalked and killed her in a jealous rage. That was Christie’s position. But lovers who never spoke? At least not according to their phone records. A lover that none of Laoghaire’s coworkers, friends, and family knew she had? A few weeks before her death, Laoghaire had called the police over loud music from a neighbor’s late night party. Surely, this woman would have told someone she was being stalked?

What the case needed was further investigation.

As John rose to return to his office, he spotted Ned Gowan. John’s phone vibrated again. He had two missed texts and a new one from his boss, Harry.

Gowan started toward John.

Quickly, John opened Harry’s message,

Where the hell are you? Browns here…..get back to the office.

John looked up and saw Gowan had been waylaid by a crying elderly woman. Probably the mother of one of his clients.

John glanced back down at the two missed texts:

From Hal Grey

We need 2 talk, be at Pardloe on Saturday

From Stephan von Namtzen

I’m here. Jetlags a bitch. You call this beer?

John stuffed the phone in his jacket pocket and greeted Gowan.

“Hello, Mr Gowan.”

Gowan extended his hand and laughed. “Please, call me Ned.” Grey was wary. He knew Gowan’s bumbling country lawyer routine was an act. He was ruthless at trial.

Gowan produced a document and handed it to Grey. “I was going to file this at the clerk’s office, but then I saw you, so here it is, hand delivered.” Gowan smiled as Grey read the document.

“You can’t be serious, you read Beauchamp’s report,” Grey stated.

“I did, but this is a separate issue – Fraser’s adding a plea of not guilty by reason of insanity. Of course he’s not guilty, but if he were guilty, he was insane at the time.” Gowan’s smiled faded. “What did you expect given your office’s change in position.”

“What?”John asked, his head beginning to pound.

“Your office is seeking the death penalty.”

[incruelty]

WILSON  FISK  THROUGHOUT  THE  SEASONS.  major spoilers for season three, but i just wanted to throw it out there that wilson fisk’s character development has been ongoing since his first appearance on the show and by NO MEANS did he transform into the kingpin by the end of the first season. we don’t truly witness the kingpin until the very last episode of season three.

IN  SEASON  ONE   he wants to reconcile his dark and depraved roots in hell’s kitchen that have haunted him throughout his entire life, made him feel incapable of love and ultimately inhuman. hell’s kitchen is a depiction of fisk’s trauma, and like any artist, he wants to give meaning to that suffering and turn it into something more beautiful than what it was before. i don’t think that his criminal endeavors were ever all that present in his mind in the beginning of season one beyond a means to his end. he believes that he’s doing what he has to do to restore hell’s kitchen and himself. he struggles with this, however, as the memories of his father’s abuse and its consequences start making it harder for him to separate his actions from himself. that he is not entirely untouched by the horrors he’s capable of and actively doing, even if they’re present by necessity. he feels like a monster, and that self loathing doesn’t work in tandem with the prosperity he’s trying to achieve by elevating the city, and therefore himself. 

this is where vanessa becomes such an important player for team fisk; she takes him by the arm and tells him that he won’t only amount to the terrible things that he’s done and that those things are more necessary than ever when there are people trying to threaten the life he’s trying to create, which is more important than anything, because it’s important to them. and it’s at this point that fisk gets ahead of his opposites by creating his own narrative for the role he plays in the reckoning that everyone knows is happening for hell’s kitchen. he’s contented with the idea that his past and the inherent nature of him doesn’t delude his intentions and will not taint the future. time goes on and he’s confronted by his associates with the fact that he cannot serve as both savior and oppressor to the city because they don’t function in their industry under the same premise. fisk’s vision is still about fulfillment, and recovery.  then fisk is being threatened with arrest, and by the outcry of the public he’s forced to face the reflection of himself that is a shadow over hell’s kitchen, and specifically where inside himself does that shadow start to cast. he realizes that trying to rebuild the city in an effort to rebuild himself, to erase his own history by erasing what he considers to be hell’s kitchen’s ugliest imperfections, be its ruin or the people who would see him fail in a feat he had once considered so noble, was as naive as the feat itself. this realization does take something of a toll on fisk, as he feels as though he’s been betrayed, blinded to and by his own nature. what he does at the end of the season, and what he realizes he should’ve been doing at the start, was embracing the iniquity of himself and the city. there was nothing to recover from the ruin of himself and the decay of hell’s kitchen. that ruin is where he thrives. 

IN  SEASON  TWO,   his arc is still far from over, and the small glimpses we get into fisk’s further growth are no less important than they were in season one because they help us understand what terms fisk will be coming back into play under in future storylines. prison is the perfect place to empower this newly recognized sense of self, as he explains: everyone warned me that prison would be an inhumane environment. it is. but i find it refreshing. the perfect microcosm of the animal world: when an animal wants something, when it needs something, other things need to be stepped on. 

in spite of that, he’s also removed from his fellow inmates, placing himself into a position of power by controlling prison dynamics and even having operations that take place deeper into the city          we know this from the coordination between guards that got frank to ruin his own testimony in court, and when it was discussed that wilson fisk had his plans in motion well over a year before the events of season three.

you are running this place. yes, ask my lawyer, he’ll deny it. ask the guards, they’ll deny it. ask the inmates here, they’ll cut their tongues out before they talk. 

he has a plan for when he’s released and he’s certain in the measures he’s taken to secure it. he is not unnerved by the truth of himself or the downfall it seemed to bring upon him, but instead inspired to make use of it when he is free to destroy the lives of those who opposed him. but i have something to say to you: when i finally get out of this cage, i will dismantle the lives of the two amateurs that put me in here. [...] you see, i’ve had a lot of time to reflect on my journey here, mr. murdock. my mistakes. everything i took for granted. 

he is something bigger than he was before. while he may be in captivity, he is a mirror of the man he’d been in season one, where he had been a crime lord with all the money and power he needed to build his better tomorrow, and his better self, but his conviction was plagued by conflicting identities that made him feel powerless in achieving what he wanted in love, in life, and in himself             in season two, wilson fisk is in a cage, but he is also more free than we’d ever seen him, in a stage of acceptance.  IN  SEASON  THREE,  fisk is acting off the momentum of his epiphany. he is more calculated, even more prepared than he had been before. he has regained control over the city on a much more terrifying scale. if i’m honest, what occurred to me while watching was the phrase “go big or go home,” and how fisk entered this season intending to do both. fisk has always been a villain that operates with an endgame in mind. his goal is not just the ongoing profit of his crimes, but he still has a vision for himself as he did in season one, just one tailored to better suit the nuances of the man he is now and how he will put them to work. better suited to fit the life he’s building for vanessa and himself.  vanessa continues to motivate him as she did in season one without even needing a physical presence in the show, and he even discusses with agent nadeem how vanessa was his single greatest source of empowerment           his love for her was an inescapable prison, and his connection with her was his most fulfilling achievement. 

but there is a moment between fisk and a holocaust survivor, mrs. falb, where they discuss the ownership of the rabbit in a snowstorm, and how the painting is a symbol of his and vanessa’s love. this is an important development from how it had at one point been a symbolization of the kind of man he was meant to be, the choices he would make to become that; a proxy for the hunger for power and control that his father had beaten into him and that he had to in turn beat into his father, and the empowerment he had felt in his own solitary as a result  *   IT  MAKES  ME  FEEL  ALONE                 of course, it’s no surprise that his love for vanessa and her love for him had replaced what this painting means to him, but there’s the fact that fisk leaves the painting in the care of mrs. falb after this exchange:  the gestapo demanded everything we had. including that painting. my father fought them, and they shot him in front of us. do you know what it’s like to see your father take his last breathe on the floor in front of you? [...] this painting is my connection to the people i love. i know who you are, mr. fisk. you are a wolf, too. 

now, fisk obviously faces the unsettling resemblance of sentimentalism he shares with mrs. falb regarding the deaths of their fathers, and while they do cling to the painting out of love, it’s on two opposite sides of the spectrum and serves as a grotesque reminder to fisk that he is the villain, as mrs. falb was the victim, and love does not absolve him of that. this is not something that fisk is unaware of, because his self awareness is a prominent part of his character development throughout the years, but this is the first time in a long time that fisk vaguely favors the man he’d been in season one when confronted with his wickedness. he cannot have that reminder in his home with vanessa, as it’s clear from their reunion that he intends to still keep her as far from his transgressions as he can. again, he struggles to separate his actions from what is important to him, this time the subject being vanessa, rather than his city.  that is until vanessa makes it clear that the distance that was placed between them by his incarceration and his own fear of entangling her into his world will only drive them further apart, for she can not serve as an exhibit of his humanity or a mere spectator to his savageness. she has to be apart of him. fully. in completely embracing vanessa with every aspect of his world, wilson has blurred the lines between what makes him human and what makes him terrifying. this makes him just as powerful as it makes him vulnerable, for those two aspects will always actively play off of each other and has been the point of having a villain like wilson fisk playing opposite to a protagonist like matt murdock.  a lot of people say that we saw the first real appearance of the kingpin at the end of season one, with fisk coming to terms with his true nature and therefore expanding the lengths he’s willing to go to get what he wants, but i don’t agree. i think we saw the kingpin in fruition when vanessa explain to him,  everyone is broken. the point is to find someone whose broken pieces fit with yours. in season one, fisk was desperately trying to rearrange the shattered pieces of his humanity into something other than what it had been after to the murder of his father, where he wasn’t horrified by the reflection he saw when he stared into them. 

in season two, fisk has been reinvented and placed into an environment where those broken pieces, the brutality he had buried beneath fear and pretense, are his weapons. 

in season three, fisk, who is now validated and empowered by the love of his life, the fear of those around him, the trust of the public, and the depths of which he’s now comfortable to sinking in his rise, has arranged these broken pieces of himself into a mosaic of nuances that make him more human, and more more dangerous than he’s ever been, which was only made possible by vanessa.

[mattmurdocksgirl]

Stop the Cavalry

Summary:   Frank Castle has business on Christmas Eve in Central Park, but when a little girl offers him a candy cane, and Captain America offers him advice, will Frank change his mind?

Based on the song, Stop the Cavalry, by Jona Lewie.

Note:  Bad Language Words and mentions of violence.

Other Christmas Stories:

I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day - Matt Murdock/OFC

Hey, Mr. Churchill comes over here  To say we're doing splendidly.  But it's very cold out here in the snow  Marching to and from the enemy.  Oh I say it's tough, I have had enough  Can you stop the cavalry?

I have had to fight almost every night  Down throughout these centuries.  That is when I say, oh yes yet again  Can you stop the cavalry?

“Excuse me, Sir.”

Frank Castle opened his eyes to find a small brown-haired girl in a colorful Holiday Sweater standing in front of him.  His quick assessment put her at about eight or nine years old.  A man in a matching Holiday sweater stood a few yards away.  “Yeah?”

The little girl held out a candy cane that had been decorated to resemble a Reindeer.  A brown pipe cleaner was twisted at the top for antlers, little eyes were glued on the wrapper, and a there was a small red ball for the nose.  

“My friends and I are in the park today to pass out these candy canes that we made, to spread holiday cheer, and to let people know about the Christmas feast that Stark Industries is sponsoring tomorrow at the shelter on 71st Street.”  She pushed the candy cane toward him, along with a little card that had the address of the shelter on it.  Frank took it, glancing down at his oversized hoodie and jacket.   Both had certainly seen better days.

“That’s very sweet of you, but I’m not actually homeless,” he chuckled.  “I just have terrible fashion sense.”

The little girl giggled.  “Well, I don’t think you actually have to be homeless to come.  I think you just have to not have anyone to spend Christmas with.  Anyway, you can still keep the candy cane!”

“Well thank you.  I do love candy canes.  Did you make this yourself?”

“Yes!  Well, maybe not this exact one, and I didn’t glue any of the eyes or noses on, because my daddy says I’m still too young to use a hot glue gun.  I put a lot of antlers on, so maybe I did these.”

“You did a great job.  It’s almost too nice to eat.”

“Hey Cass,” the dark-haired man who’d stayed close by while she talked to Frank, yelled over to her.  “Do you have any more candy canes?  Lila and her dad ran out.”

“I do! I’ll be right there, Daddy.”  The little girl turned back to Frank.  “I’d better go.  Merry Christmas, Mister!”

“You too, sweetheart.  Thanks again for the candy cane.”  She ran off toward her father, and grabbed his hand, as they headed down the path toward the others.

She wasn’t gone very long before he was approached again.  Frank had spotted the man coming up the path, while he was talking to the little girl.  He was dressed in a Christmas sweater as well, with a brown bomber jacket over it.  His height, build and blond hair made it easy for Frank to identify him.

“You with those guys?”  Frank gestured toward the two little girls, who were now splitting up the remaining candy canes.

“I am.  We’ve been all over Central Park, and I’m exhausted.  Mind if I sit down for a minute?  They look like they’ve got it under control for now.”

“Far be it from me to deny one of the oldest living veterans a seat.”  Frank motioned to the empty spot next to him.  “So, this is how Captain America spends his time when he’s not fighting bad guys?   Passing out candy canes in Central Park?”

“It can’t all be aliens and evil intentions,” he grinned.  “I spent half a day helping to make those candy canes, and the worst injuries I got were glue gun burns on my fingers.  It’s a nice change of pace.”  He held out his hands for him to see, but Frank couldn’t see a single burn.  “So, you apparently know who I am, but what should I call you?”

“Pete.  My name is Pete.”

Steve Rogers nodded.  “Nice to meet you Pete.  Iraq or Afghanistan?”

“Both.  How’d you know?”

“You have the look of a man sitting on a park bench, with the world on his shoulders.  I see that look on a lot of Vets these days.  I saw it back in my day as well, but somehow it seems to be a lot more common now.”

“Well, I think the difference is that more of us survive and come home.”

“Good point,” Steve agreed.  “We lost more people during the Battle of the Bulge than we’ve lost in the entire Middle East conflict.”

“Yeah, that’s a good thing, but now guys are coming home all kinds of fucked up instead of dying, and nobody seems to know what to do with them.”  He looked over at Steve and shrugged.  “Sorry about my language.”

“Right, because no one ever said a bad word in World War 2,” he grinned.  “Anyway, it’s terrible that these guys are out here not getting the help they need.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty messed up.  The holidays just seem to make everything worse.”

“That’s one of the reasons we are in the park today, and doing the dinner tomorrow.  A lot of the homeless in the park are Vets.  We just want them to know that someone cares.”

“That’s good.  It’s a good thing to do,” Frank nodded.  “It’s hard being deployed during the Holidays.  Even harder to be home and alone.  I never minded being deployed, except at Christmas.  It can be a lonely time when you’re away from your family.”

“What?  The USO shows didn’t cheer you up?”  Steve replied with mock offense.  “I was in a lot of those shows before they finally let me fight, you know.”

“Yeah?  Well, they were a good distraction, but not the same as seeing your kid’s excitement on Christmas Eve.  My son’s favorite thing was to go see those ridiculous giant red ornaments on Sixth Avenue.   When he was little, he called them New York’s big balls.  My wife and I would giggle like middle schoolers.”

“Those things are huge,” Steve agreed.  “I didn’t have any family waiting for me at home, so it wasn’t so bad for me.  Just about everyone I cared about was over there with me, anyway.”

“The Howling Commandos.  They were legendary.   I had a buddy over in Afghanistan who was the biggest fanboy.  I swear, he knew everything about you all.  He’d shit himself if he knew I was sitting with you right now.”

“They were a great group of guys.  We did what we could to make Christmas seem special, just like I’m sure you all did.”    

“We did.  But I think what you’re doing here is nice.  These guys need it.”

“I know.  Too many people are out here alone, when they don’t have to be.  Some guys seem to think that they are still at war.”

“Maybe some of them are.”  Frank looked over at Steve curiously.  “There’s a lot of bad stuff that goes on in this city.”

“True, but it isn’t their job anymore.”

“War is war, Cap,” Frank shrugged.  You find the bad guys, and you kill them before they kill you, or someone you love.”

“Yeah, but back here, the enemy doesn’t really wear a uniform to identify themselves.  That’s why we have police and the legal system to sort out the guilty from the innocent.”

“Yeah?  You think that’s what they do?”  Frank shook his head in disbelief.  “Prison is like a vacation for some of these guys, and half the time, if they have enough money, they never even see the inside of a cell.  Wilson Fisk is a prime example of that.  I don’t know how many times that bastard’s been arrested, but thanks to a corrupt system, he’s back out on the streets, every time.  Arresting him doesn’t do shit.   Double tap to the head?  Problem solved.”

“It’s not up to us to be judge, jury and executioner.”

“Well, somebody has to do it.  The police can’t.  You ever heard about a gang called the Kitchen Irish?  What about the Dogs of Hell?   Both used to run different parts of Hell’s Kitchen.  They terrorized good people, sold drugs to kids, and murdered without a second thought. It was all about power, territory, and money for them.”  

“I’m sure the police did what they could to…”

Frank interrupted him by laughing.  “Nothing ever stuck to the guys in charge, and the low-level guys were in and out of prison, or easily replaced.  The police couldn’t do shit.  One day, they decided to take a little trip uptown to this very park.  Had themselves a nice little gang war over where the carousel was.  By a fucking carousel where families were spending the day together.  Killed a woman and her two kids.”

“I remember the story.  I think Tony donated money to refurbish the carousel.”

“Stark’s real good with throwing money at shit like that, but doesn’t want to get his hands dirty, now does he?”

“That’s not fair.  Tony Stark has risked his life many times for this city and the people in it.”

“I suppose you’re right about that, but the Avengers sure as hell aren’t down here cleaning this park out.  Somebody’s gotta do it, yeah?”

“Somebody did, didn’t they?  Wiped out both gangs in a matter of days.  Without due process, how can anyone be sure that everyone he killed was guilty of those murders?”

“They’re all guilty, Cap.  That’s the point.  From the shot callers to the guy’s selling dope on the street corner.  It’s not that easy to get rid of them, either.  Sure, both of those gangs were gone for a while, but guess what?  Someone else stepped up and took over, and their back.  Out here selling drugs like nothing ever happened.  They’ve even made their way back to this park, and do you think Christmas Eve is gonna stop them?”

Steve leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.  “I understand that they are wrong.  That doesn’t make killing them right.”

“You all have no problem taking out aliens who fall out of the sky, or HYDRA members where you find them.  Hell, it wasn’t too long ago that you all were trying to take each other out.”

“You’re absolutely right,” Steve sighed.  “We aren’t perfect.  We do, however, give people a chance to surrender.  When they don’t?  Then we do what we have to do.  It’s true that the Avengers focus more on the big picture than the small details, but we can’t have vigilantes deciding who gets to live or die in the streets.  Eventually, we will come after someone like that.”

“But that’s exactly what the gangs do, isn’t it?  They don’t care who they hurt, or who they kill.  Seems to me that they get what they deserve.  War is hell, Cap.”

Frank was positive that Captain America had a lot more to say on the subject, but he seemed to decide to let it go.

“Well, I should probably head out and catch up with the others.”

“I bet you have a big fancy party at Stark Tower or something tonight, yeah?  Well, while you’re celebrating the holidays, I sure hope that none of these gangs decide to hurt anyone else’s family.”

Steve nodded, a little guiltily.  “I hope that you decide to do the right thing, Frank, especially on Christmas Eve.  Someone like you, following the rules, could be a huge asset to this city.”

He wasn’t surprised in the least by the use of his real name.  “I believe I am doing the right thing.  Merry Christmas, Cap and thank you for your service in the past and the present.”

Steve nodded.  “Same to you.  I am very sorry about what happened to your family, and I really do hope that, in the future, we don’t have to ever meet as anything other than friends and fellow soldiers.”  He walked off, leaving Frank by himself with his reindeer candy cane.

Later that night, the party at Stark Tower was in full swing, when Tony found Steve and Sam shooting pool.  He was holding a tablet, and grinning from ear to ear.  “Hey Cap, you have a fan.”

Steve took the tablet and looked at the screen.  A photo was posted on the New York Times website, of four men, tied together with a big red ribbon that Steve was pretty sure came from one of the trees in the park.  They were all unconscious, and had taken one hell of a beating, but Steve was relieved to read that they were alive.  The caption explained that the police found them that way, with enough drugs to put them away for a long time.

Another photo showed a close up of a note tied to one of them.

 Merry Christmas, Captain.  I’ll get’em next time.

It wasn’t signed.  There was just a small skull drawn at the bottom.