RUSTY | frank castle

THIRTY TWO

Are we fated, faithful, or fatal?

"One more question, Mr Russo." The news-lady said on the television. "If Frank Castle and Rusty Mallard were standing in front of you right now, what would you say to them?"

"What happened to you?" Billy said through clenched teeth.

"Thank you, Mr Russo."  The rest of the words faded away in Rusty's mind as a lump appeared in her throat. Billy was her friend, what had he become now? The enemy? A tear escaped her eye and mixed with the blood staining her face. 

David turned his head to see Rusty, Frank and the dogs bloodied and beaten in the corridor of the garage. Rusty couldn't tear her eyes away from the screen, where Billy stood in front of his company's logo, a sharp suit on his frame, his hair slicked back with wax.

The tear reached Rusty's chin, and it dripped to the floor, its colour now blood red. 

  •••  

Getting a combat knife out, Rusty cut Frank's black shirt. The sounds of the material ripping and a few pained grunts from herself and Frank were heard. She cut in straight down, and then cut the sleeves.

Frank was trying to make eye contact to ensure she was okay, but Rusty wouldn't look at him. She threw his shirt on the floor, putting the knife to the side. 

Reaching for the water faucet with her good arm, she turned it on. Rusty washed the blood on her hands away, then took a clean cloth and ran the water over it. She squeezed the excess water out, leaving her right arm unused, and turned to Frank.

Scarlet blood covered much of his torso, the bullet wound to the head from Billy caused a lot of the liquid to run onto his shoulder; it stained his skin. Rusty took the cloth, raising it up to Frank's shoulder and gently started to wash the blood away. Cold water soothed Frank's sore body, and he sighed as he looked at Rusty. 

She then washed the blood where it had ran down the front of his torso, down over his chest and onto his stomach. Rusty kept turning back to the faucet to clean the cloth of Frank's blood, then turning back to him and continuing the soothing cleaning. 

Rusty turned to Frank's back, washing the red from his shoulder, back and shoulder blades. There wasn't as much of it as the front, though. The woman saw Frank looking at her reflection in the fractured mirror, watching her as she cleaned over his shoulder. The woman sighed, looking back at him in the mirror. She kissed his shoulder lightly, then threw the cloth in the sink. 

David walked in. "You gonna talk to me?"

Rusty turned the faucet off. 

"I mean, I can fill in some of the holes from when I saw you last." David continued. "World knows you're alive. City thinks you're terrorists. You had something to do with blowing up a hotel, I think."

Rusty walked to Frank's right side, inspecting the large piece of shrapnel from the metal door in the hotel basement. It was in there pretty deep. 

"Uh, this is just a guess but it seems like your buddy Billy Russo turned out to, uh, be dirty after all." 

Giving David a dangerous glance, she put her hand on Frank's upper arm and prepared herself to pull the metal out. She poured some water over the wound, then took a hold of the metal. Rusty saw Frank wince, but she pulled the shrapnel out. Blood started to exit the wound dangerously fast, but she threw the metal in the sink with a clang and reached for the first aid box. 

"You know, I'm here." David kept talking. "You can talk to me."

Rusty clenched her jaw. "I'd rather you shut up right about now."

The Lieberman sighed as Rusty let some water drip over Frank's open wound. The tall man grunted, closing his eyes at the sharp pain as Rusty cleaned the new blood; she quickly started with the stitching. David kept his rambling on, though the two ignored it.

The ex-marine stood still as Rusty worked, her hands professionally still. Frank knew if he tried to get cleaned up by himself, Rusty would end up threatening to shoot his kneecap, and he was too exhausted to do it properly, anyways. 

Rusty cut the stitch with the knife, and started again on the side of Frank's head. 

"In reality, nothing's really changed." David said.

Frank didn't look away from his reflection. "Everything's changed."

"Yeah, how's that?" David sighed lightly. "All of us, we're still a team. What happens to you happens to me."

"Is that right?"

David hummed.

"So you betrayed us. Do we betray you?"

Rusty frowned, glancing at Frank but soon continued with the stitching on his head. David frowned harder. "You talking about Madani? We agreed to go to her."

"Yeah, we agreed to do it together." Frank turned to Lieberman, making Rusty stop her stitching. 

"That was before you ran off after Lewis Wilson-"

Rusty had lost her patience with David. "Shut the fuck up." 

"I did exactly what we said we were gonna do." David said. "I told her about Rawlins. I told her you're the witnesses she needs. I told her everything I needed to so we can end this. 'Cause this has gotta end."

"This did end." Frank said gruffly. "You, Rusty, me, this place, it ended. I'm done."

David looked at the two, and their glares told him to leave them the fuck alone. So, in order not to get shot, David left the bathroom. 

Sighing, Rusty turned back to Frank and cut the end of the stitch on his head. The woman leaned with one hand on the bloodied sink. "You're good to go." She whispered. 

Frank turned to look at her. "What about you?"

"I'll manage."

"With one hand?"

Looking at her hurt arm which she held close to her body, Rusty sighed again. She was exhausted and didn't have the energy she would usually have to argue with Frank. She nodded, saying, "Pull my shirt up."

The two managed to work with one good arm each to bring Rusty's shirt up over her head. She was left with only a sports bra covering her torso, but she knew Frank wasn't one to be a perv, especially to her. Frank frowned as he looked at Rusty's body, small pieces of shrapnel were stuck in her flesh, and dark bruises formed all over. Frank exhaled a breath, averting his worried eye to her. Rusty passed the wet cloth to Frank, letting him wash her skin of the blood, dust and dirt. 

The woman then reached for the metal forceps in the first aid box, using them to pull out the metal from her body piece by piece. More blood dripped down her body, and Frank patched up each injury with a large plaster or bandage. 

Throwing the blood-stained forceps in the sink with the shrapnel, Rusty used her left arm to lean on the sink. She closed her eyes. 

"What's wrong, Rusty?" Frank whispered to her. 

The woman shook her head, her dirty curly hair getting into her eyes. "Nothing."

Frank looked her in the eyes. "Is it Bill?"

She looked away, swallowing the lump in her throat. Frank pulled her to his body, their bare skin touching as they both rest into the embrace. Both of them used their uninjured arms to pull their bodies closer, feeling the love and the care swimming around them in the air. Frank kissed Rusty's head, feeling her salty tears fall onto his bare shoulder.

"He's gonna pay." Frank whispered to her.

Rusty repeated the words, feeling her chest almost rip through her body. "He's gonna pay."