Work Text:
The fall leaves crunched beneath his old combat boots as Frank tromped through Central Park. His hands were stuffed deep into the pockets of his heavy dark coat, his head down and shoulders slumped. A large man affecting the appearance of someone smaller. He’d grown his hair and beard out again, knowing it helped him hide.
A cool fall morning breeze blew and gathered up some of the fallen leaves, their reds and golds and browns painting temporary swirls across the air. The laughter of children and families could be heard on the wind, and Frank felt the all too familiar pang in his heart. They should be here. But they weren’t. Not anymore. Would never be again.
Shuffling heavily to a nearby bench, Frank shlumped down, hands resting limply on his knees. He watched. Watched the old people and couples walk by, not sparing him so much as a glance. Watched the families with children as they ran and played in the Park’s open spaces. Watched as others played catch with their dogs. It all made him wistful. Wistful for a life he never had and would never know because it had been taken from him. A life of peace and simple pleasures, the only complications coming from maybe an unpleasant job or a long expected family death. Relationship bumps, sassy kids, that sort of thing.
He saw her approach out of the corner of his eye. She was dressed smartly like she always was, high heels and a well tailored coat over a well tailored skirt. Her long blonde hair flowed gracefully in the breeze. Karen sat beside him, and he caught a whiff of her smell, sweet but with a bit of warm spice, just like her. She silently handed him a warm paper cup. Frank sniffed and took a cautious sip. Coffee with cream and sugar. He often took it black, but that was because that was What Was Expected of Frank Castle. But Karen knew. She knew. Frank took her hand gently in his, giving it a small squeeze. She held on.
They sat in silence, simply watching other people living their lives, sipping their coffees and barely holding hands. Frank felt a strange sense of calm wash over him as he sat on the park bench with Karen and his coffee. He even smiled a small smile as a Golden Retriever puppy bounded away from its owner and up to him. The pup gave a little jump, placing its ridiculous puppy paws on Frank’s knee. Frank set his coffee down and gave the pup’s head a gentle pat. The little thing licked his fingers in appreciation as its owner came running up, apologizing profusely.
Karen was saying that it was okay, that the dog was adorable.
“Can I hold him?” Frank asked, his voice rough and deep.
“Uhh sure,” the young man replied, giving Frank a quizzical look.
Frank bent down and picked the puppy up. It squirmed happily as Frank held it to his chest, scratching its ear. Frank nuzzled into the dog’s ruff, the smell of puppy and dog shampoo causing a flood of Oxytocin in his brain. After a few minutes, the man began to shuffle his feet awkwardly, and Frank handed the pup back over.
Frank watched as the man walked away, the puppy looking over his shoulder back at him. Frank picked his coffee back up and sat back. He felt Karen’s cool fingers touch his, and he wrapped his hand more firmly around hers as they sat and watched, feeling one thousand times better than he did earlier.