Survivor | Frank Castle

.10.

The soft morning light filters through the curtains, casting a warm glow across Mary's bedroom. She stirs in her bed, feeling the gentle weight of Bubs, her loyal dog, nestled beside her. It's a rare moment of peace, one she's come to cherish in a world defined by chaos and danger.

As she stretches and yawns, Mary's gaze drifts to the living room. There, on the worn-out couch, she sees Frank Castle, the man who'd barged back into her life the previous night, sleeping soundly with Max, curled up next to his side.

Mary carefully extricates herself from the warm cocoon of her blankets, careful not to disturb Bubs, who merely lets out a contented sigh as she rises. She pads silently across the hardwood floor toward the living room, her steps barely making a sound.

Mary watches them for a moment, an unspoken understanding passing between her and the slumbering vigilante. She knows that despite the risks, despite the darkness that clings to him, there's something about Frank Castle that draws her in, that makes her want to help him find a sliver of redemption.

With a soft sigh, Mary tiptoes to the small kitchenette, deciding to brew a pot of coffee. She needs the caffeine to clear her thoughts and prepare herself for the day ahead. The past twenty-four hours have been a whirlwind, and she can't help but wonder what other surprises lie in store.

Just as the coffee begins to percolate, Mary's phone chimes with a familiar alert tone. She frowns as she picks it up from the cluttered countertop, wondering what could possibly be so urgent this early in the morning.

The screen illuminates with a breaking news notification, and her heart sinks as she reads the headline:

"Attack at DA's Office - DA Reyes Shot and Killed."

A cold shiver runs down her spine as she quickly taps on the notification to read the full article. The details are grim—a brazen attack on the District Attorney's office, resulting in the death of Reyes. The assailant had apparently escaped, leaving chaos and confusion in their wake.

Mary's first thought, irrational as it may be, is whether Frank is somehow responsible for this latest act of violence. But even as the suspicion flits through her mind, she knows it's impossible. Frank had been with her all night, sleeping soundly on her couch with Max, and there's no way he could have made it to the DA's office and back in time.

She exhales a shaky breath, trying to dispel the unwarranted anxiety that grips her.

As the coffee finishes brewing, Mary leans against the kitchen counter, her mind racing with a mix of relief and unease. She knows that her decision to help Frank, to become entangled in his mission for justice, is a dangerous one. But there's something about him, something that resonates with the darkness within her own past, that makes it difficult to turn away.

She takes a deep sip of her coffee, feeling its warmth spread through her, chasing away the remnants of her uneasy thoughts. The morning sunlight spills into the apartment, casting a soft glow on the scene before her—Frank still asleep on her couch.

For now, Mary decides, she'll set aside the news of the attack and the questions it raises. She'll focus on the here and now, on the unlikely companionship she's found in Frank Castle and the fragile sense of purpose that's slowly taking root within her.

The morning unfolds in silence as the sun climbs higher in the sky, casting dappled patterns of light across Mary's small apartment. The air is heavy with unspoken tension, an invisible thread that seems to bind Mary and Frank even in their silence.

Frank stirs on the couch, his eyes slowly blinking open as he becomes aware of his surroundings. He stretches his battered limbs, wincing at the soreness that courses through his body. Despite the aches, he's used to far worse.