"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...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"are you strong enough to stand protecting both your heart and mine?" - Heavy In Your Arms, Florence + the Machine
╳
"This is what it feels like.." I mutter from the back seat, watching the roof of Curtis' car illuminate periodically from the passing street lights after regaining consciousness.
"What?" Frank questions from the drivers street.
"..Dying."
"Stop that. You're gonna be fine." he denies. "Curt's gonna patch you up."
"I'm not the one that dies, I'm the one that does the killing?" I offer, in a weak but light hearted tone, while my eyelids battle to stay open.
"Damn right." Frank replies and I chuckle quietly.
The small laughter turns into a splutter, bringing the taste of blood into my mouth and making me grimace.
Shortly after, the familiar clatter of junkyard gravel rattles beneath the car, signalling we've made it home.
Frank's quick to scoop me back up into his strong arms like I'm feather light. Pain all but forgotten, I rest my head into the crook of his neck and inhale his sweaty, masculine scent, content to have him so close.
But that changes once we enter the trailer.
Frank yells for Curtis's help while Curtis clammers about with his medical supplies, and my attention is brought back to my injuries.
Frank lays me on the ground and Curtis gets to work. Cutting the sleeve from my jacket to get to the bullet wound in my right bicep, tightening the belt on my thigh, lifting up my shirt to reveal the stab wound in my ribs, and cursing under his breath at the revelation of each injury. But then he falls silent and his eyes focus as his medic training takes over.
Frank wraps a bandage tight around my knuckles and holds my hand in both of his, applying pressure.
"Wait.." I breathe.
"Jena, I have to do this now." Curtis insists.
"Just let me go." I say and they stop and frown at me. "This is my way out. This is how I s-stop this.. Let me go."
"Do it." Frank orders Curtis, and he start's digging for the bullet in my arm, the both of them ignoring my protests.
"No, Frank.." I mumble, trying to push his hand from my knuckles.
"I have to keep pressure on this, Jen."
"No.. just let me die." I plead and Frank shakes his head. "Don't you see? This is how Stryker loses."
"Yeah, and who wins?" he asks, pinning me in an intense gaze that's begging for me to reconsider my line of thinking.
"Everybody wins." I pant. "Everyone will be safe, he won't be able to control me, you guys can go back to your lives-"
