When the Smoke Clears

Chapter 11

There was a little restaurant a few blocks from Matt's apartment that Karen had come to know. The building was small, with a white exterior and a neon pink Open sign hanging in one of the windows. It was a Cuban-owned diner with colorful murals painted on the walls inside: dreamy-faced celestial bodies who looked like they were on their way to Woodstock. Karen started visiting shortly after she moved into Matt's place. She had trouble sleeping more often than not and would lay awake, staring at the ceiling; feeling trapped in her thoughts and her body. When the panic attacks started, she began to wander, seeking any alternative to sleep. She'd stumbled across this place by accident and immediately found comfort in it. Coming here made her feel, she didn't know... slightly more in control, maybe. It gave her something to think about other than the dread of the darkness in her mind.

Over the course of her visits, Karen became acquainted with the owner. She found out that his wife used to work the night shift as a paramedic in some of the worst parts of the city. He was always afraid of what she might run into during her rounds. He could never sleep when she was out and would always look for places to go; things to do to keep him occupied while he waited for her to get home safely, and she always got home safely. Until one day she didn't.

After she disappeared in the Snap, he decided to start this place in his wife's honor; to give people like him somewhere to go. People who were worried about others, themselves; people who, for whatever reason, couldn't spend their nights sleeping. Now, his wife was back, and they ran the place together.

It was a great story, but when she told it to him, Frank couldn't help but think of what he'd done in Karen's "honor". He hadn't built anything, hadn't left anything behind save for a trial of blood so thick it could've coated the streets. It wasn't what Karen would've wanted, but it was all he knew.

Now, Frank sat across from her in a window booth, two cups of coffee steaming on the table between them. He was taking in the sights with no shortage of interest. A sun and moon with heavy eyelids and lazy smiles were painted on the wall beside them. They wore crowns of stars on their heads as they floated blissfully above fluffy, pastel-colored clouds. This wasn't the kind of place he imagined Karen spending her nights, but he supposed he saw the appeal. The paintings on the wall, the welcoming staff; the smell of maduros, they created a sense of calm when the world outside was anything but. He would've preferred it to a sleepless night in Matt Murdock's apartment any time.

"So this is your haunt, huh?" He dragged his eyes over to see Karen looking out the window. The light of the sign hanging above her cast her in a pink glow that made her look like she belonged in a mural of her own.

"You could say that." She turned to meet his gaze. "I like to come here when I can't sleep."

"That happen a lot?" Frank asked. He had a feeling he already knew the answer.

Karen nodded, once and briefly, but the way her eyes dropped to her coffee confirmed it. He felt his chest tighten at the idea of her spending so many sleepless nights here, just looking for answers, or at the very least some kind of peace. Frank knew a thing or two about that. His own track record with sleep had been abysmal for years.

"It's been... hard," she said. "When I'm awake I feel like I'm living in a nightmare, and when I'm asleep-" She paused, realizing she was preaching to the choir. "Well, you know."

He did, in his own way. He imagined his demons were different from Karen's, but that haunting feeling was all the same. To have so much weighing on a soul that it couldn't find rest, not even in sleep, wasn't a feeling Frank would wish on most, especially not Karen. She deserved so much more than that.

In an attempt to offer some comfort, he slid a hand across the table, palm up and open, inviting. He worried it might have been too bold a move, or maybe too unwanted, but Karen's fingers uncurled from around her mug and moved to Frank's. There was no hesitation behind the action, no second thought, as if it was something they'd done a thousand times before. Her warm touch wrapped around him, blue eyes watching the gentle embrace of their hands.