"to burn with desire and keep quiet about it is the greatest punishment we can bring on ourselves."
- Federico García Lorca
Staying out of trouble is not Frank Castle's strong suit. But is Jenavieve Howlett more trouble than The Punisher can handle...
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"we hunt differently, i take it slow, while you sink your teeth right in through the bone. we are not pure." - One of My Kind, Cece And The Dark Hearts & AG
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Frank keeps a firm, supportive hand around my waist as we stumble out of the bar.
Sirens echo in the distance as he lays me down in the back of his van.
Frank retrieves a gun from a black duffel bag beside me before pulling himself into the drivers seat. He starts the engine and immediately accelerates out of the carpark.
With Frank's focus now on the road, I stop the pressure on my wound, so my body can push the bullet out. Hopefully some time soon..
I sit up slowly, pleased to find the dizziness from the tranq has at least worn off. My knuckles however, remain split.
"Hey, Jean? Jean, can you hear me?" Frank calls from the front of the van.
"Yeah."
"I know it hurts, but you're gonna be all right. You need to know that." he reassures me.
"I know." I mumble.
He's the one that needs to know that. He's fearful for my injuries, and while it's touching and endearing, he needn't worry at all. But how can I tell him that?
I breath out a sigh and make my way to the front of the van.
"You're gonna be all right." Frank continues. "I just have to find the nearest hospital-"
"No! No hospitals!" I gasp, perching myself between the front seats.
"What are you doin'?" a startled Frank chides, looking me up and down.
"I can't go to a hospital. Please, no-"
"Lay down." he grumbles, eyes back on the road. "You're gonna be okay."
"I won't be if I go to a hospital." I stress, ignoring Frank's worried protests as I climb over into the passenger seat. "Just let me out, okay? Then maybe get yourself to a hospital-"
"No." he cuts me off.
"Oh, so you don't want a hospital either, huh? But you're gonna make me g-" I stop talking when my eyes catch headlights out the back windows, fast approaching. "We're being followed.."
Frank glances in his mirrors and then presses the accelerator to the floor. Until another vehicle springs from a side street ahead, blocking the road in front of us.
The van's tires screech as Frank hits the brakes, while the car behind us pulls up, blocking us in.
In front of us, three people hop out of the vehicle and stand together, guns in hand.
