Chapter Text
Hell.
Frank kicked off his boots and all but limped to his fridge to grab a beer. He’d spent all night in the cold, crouched on a rooftop, waiting for a sign of the gang he was on the tail of. His back and his knees were killing him. He wasn’t as young as he used to be.
He took a swig of his beer and ran through his normal routine before clocking out. It was 8am. Bedtime for Frank, who was essentially nocturnal now. He rotated his shoulder on his way over to his desk, wincing at the burn of stiffness in his muscles.
Frank tapped his keyboard and the screens of his work station came to life. No new messages from David. Or Madani. That was good. No news is usually good news. He checked all the alarms and security feeds for this apartment and the few other locations around town that he kept his eye on. All clear.
Before he turned to walk away, Frank hesitated. There was one last feed he wanted to check. He couldn’t kick the habit, even after all this time.
Frank clicked over to the camera feed of Karen’s window sill, the Flower Cam, as David called it.
It had been a long time since there had actually been any flowers in the window. She must have trashed the white roses after his latest bullshit at the hospital with Madani and the kid.
Good. Good for her .
She should forget about him.
But still… Frank couldn’t help but check every once in a while.
The feed popped up on his monitor, and Frank’s heart jumped up into this throat.
Shit.
The camera was moved. He didn’t know where it was, but instead of Karen’s empty window sill, he saw an index card propped up in front of the lens. It read,
Who is this?
Call me.
Hell.
She found it.
Frank squinted at his monitor, unsure of the best move now. If he called, she’d probably be furious, like he was some creep spying on her. Besides, calling now would just reconnect them after he’d already cut her loose. He’d told her to stay away, again . And she’d listened. Any contact with him would only be dangerous for her.
Then again…
Thanks to David, Frank had finally heard about everything that had gone down while he was away. The whole mess with Karen and Red, the fake Daredevil, and Fisk. He’d been sick about it. Almost drove straight to her place to make sure she was ok. To touch her, and see her, and make 100% sure. But Frank stopped himself because he already knew she was ok. Red had taken care of her. No, she had taken care of herself. She didn’t need Frank coming over and barging into her life again. It was too little too late anyway.
After surviving all of that… finding a camera pointed at her window was probably something to worry about.
Frank sighed.
He didn’t want Karen to be scared that someone was watching her, or that anybody was out to get her. He should call her, and explain, and take whatever hellfire she poured out on him if she was really pissed off.
He downed the rest of his beer and considered having another one before making the call, but shook his head. He had to face her. She deserved better.
Frank lowered himself to his chair and pulled up her number on his phone. That took all of 2 seconds. There were only 6 numbers in it. He pressed his finger to her name...
“Karen Page.” She answered, all business. It made him smile.
“... Hey, Karen.”
She paused for so long he almost thought she hung up.
“Frank?”
“Yeah. I’m sorry for calling. I- I just wanted to explain... about the camera-”
“Oh, thank god.” She cut him off, her breath whooshing out of her. “When I saw that camera I thought…”
She didn’t finish the sentence. She didn’t need to. He knew what she’d thought. Maybe Fisk was keeping an eye on her, maybe someone else was. She’d been scared.
“You thought someone was out to get you?”
She sighed. “Something like that.”
Frank shook his head, agitated.
“So, you think someone’s coming after you, spying on you, and your first instinct is asking them to call you? Are you crazy, Karen?”
“Hey - you don’t get to call me crazy.” She snapped, and there was venom in her voice.
She took a breath, probably biting back a tirade that he totally had coming. She let the breath out slow.
“So, what’s the camera about? You send me away- you don’t want me in your life- but then you have a camera pointed at my window? What the hell, Frank?”
Always calling him on his bullshit. He winced.
“I’m sorry. I should have told you about it. Leiberman installed it so I could see the flowers.” His voice was low, grovelling. “I- I could only see the windowsill… nothing else."
“Could you hear me, too?”
“No- I swear.” God, he felt like a stalker. “It was just video, no audio.”
“Do you check it… frequently?”
“... Kinda.” Frank was so glad he was alone right now, he’d never blushed this bad in his entire life.
She paused for a long time. He would have paid a million dollars to know what she was thinking as those long moments stretched out. Would have spent the whole wad David gavehim.
“Ok.”
...what?
“Ok?”
She gave a pained sort of laugh, and he could tell she was rolling her eyes at him.
“Well, I have to say- I’m relieved there isn’t someone after me. And I guess it’s kind of nice to know you look out for me.” Her voice changed. “Even if you…”
Don’t say it, Karen.
“...don’t want to.”
Jesus. He hurt her. He knew it. It was like a knife in the gut. And he really meant that. Because he’d actually taken a knife in the gut.
“Karen…” He exhaled, not even knowing where to start.
“Its ok, Frank. I understand.”
He didn’t think she did. But if she was willing to let him off the hook from trying to explain it all, he was going to let her.
“So, how are you?” She asked, and he could tell that she was actually worried about him. And he hated it.
And he loved it.
“I’m alright, Karen. I’m doing what I need to do.”
“Ok.”
She wasn’t going to fight him on that anymore. Good.
“You staying outta trouble?” He asked, already knowing the answer.
She laughed. “Trying my best. But I’m not running from it if it finds me.”
He shook his head. “Too brave for your own damn good. Stubborn.”
“You’re one to talk,” she countered.
If he could see her right now, he was sure they’d both have the same shitty grin. He heard some background noise.
“My client is here, I gotta go,” she said, quietly.
Frank felt a let down in his chest. Over to soon. Like always.
“Frank, is this your real number? Or is this like a burner phone that will never call me again?”
He paused. He should never call her again. He should leave her alone. But…
“This is my number.”
“Ok.”
Then she hung up.
--
About a week later Frank was sitting down at his computer, finally responding to a couple of emails from Madani. Hopefully that would get her off his back for a little while.
When he finished with that, he started his normal routine, checking to see if David had sent him anything, flicking through all of his surveillance feeds… and he couldn’t help it. He clicked on the Flower Cam out of habit. He expected to see a blank screen, or maybe the inside of her trash can. But that’s not what he saw.
Frank’s stomach flipped. It was like he was standing right there in her apartment.
He could see her entire living room and kitchen. It was just like he remembered it. The low lamp lighting, the little fridge where she’d gotten him a beer, her table, her couch… She must have set the camera on her bookshelf. She had to have done it on purpose- it was too perfect.
Frank stared at the screen, eyes wide. Why? Why had she done it? Why would she want him to be able to see-
There she was.
She walked right into the living room from somewhere he couldn’t see… maybe her bedroom or bathroom. She was on the phone, looking frustrated, raking her fingers through her blonde locks in a way that was so classic her . He stared. He watched her pace. Making circles around her kitchen gesturing, occasionally stopping to write something down in a notebook on her kitchen table. He couldn’t look away. It felt so good just to see her. To know she was ok. To just watch her being Karen.
For the first time in who the hell knows how long, Frank found himself just sitting and smiling.
When she finally hung up, Karen stood in her kitchen for a while, scribbling rapidly in her notebook. Then, she shook out her hair and wandered off the screen and didn’t return.
After a while, Frank turned off his computer and sat back in his chair. He had no idea what to think. Why had she set up the camera in her house? She knew he would check. He could see her.
He couldn’t figure it out. And was too exhausted to keep trying.
Frank couldn’t sleep though. He laid in bed shaking his head, thinking about all of the ball busting, half-crazy women in his life, and how none of them could surprise him and wind him up as much as Karen Page.
--
Frank thought about Karen the whole next day.
He made some food and stared at his blank computer screen, willing himself not to go check. Don’t do it, man. Don’t think about it. Don’t hope for it. Half way through his sandwich he caught himself twitching, eyes darting towards his desk for the 100th time, and he just gave up.
“Goddammit.”
He rolled his chair over to the desk and brought all the monitors to life. He stretched his neck from side to side, feeling his nose twitch and his heart rate speed up. Half of him really hoped the screen would turn up blank.
Half of him really hoped it wouldn’t.
It didn’t.
There she was again. Her head thrown back, laughing.
Frank felt a small charge up his spine. Hey, Karen.
He’d seen her smile a few times. He might have managed to make her chuckle once or twice. But he’d never seen her like this. Eyes glittering, smiling wide, laughing out loud… well, he imagined it was out loud. He wished he could hear her.
There were two other women in Karen’s living room. One was blonde, a total uptown business woman type. The other was exotic, wearing scrubs.
All three were drinking wine, and Frank could see the matching color in Karen’s red smile.
God. He always knew it, but never really allowed himself to think about it… Karen was beautiful.
He watched her. Taking in the way she moved.
All three women were leaning toward each other, talking a mile a minute, and making each other laugh. It was amazing to see her so happy. This is why he stayed away from her… so she could have moments like this.
Another woman emerged from off the side of the screen. She had jet black hair and wasn’t drinking wine, she was taking a swig of whiskey straight from the bottle. She looked familiar.
Frank’s jaw dropped. That was Jessica Jones. Karen was friends with Jessica fucking Jones?
He shook his head.
Was there any shit magnet in New York that Karen wasn’t friends with?
Dammit- it wasn’t safe for her to be around these people. He slumped back in his chair. Frank, Red, Jones… they were trouble. They would bring shit to her doorstep without even trying. Why couldn’t she see that?
But as he watched Karen grab Jones’ knee and whisper something in her ear that made her grin and the other blonde whip a pillow at their heads, Frank knew better. Karen understood. She was fully aware of the risks she took having these people in her life. She was all heart, and so damn brave. She was loyal to the people she cared about, whether they were dangerous or not.
Frank closed his eyes, remembering.
It doesn’t change the way I feel about you…
It should.
It doesn’t.
He’d hated it when she said that.
And he’d loved it.
She’d laid it all out for him, there, in that hospital room. And he’d sent her away. Told her he didn’t want it.
He didn’t. Right?
He had business.
Speaking of… he looked at his watch. It was almost 11pm. Time to go to work.
He watched Karen smile for a little longer. It was good to see her. Really good.
“‘Bye, Karen,” and he turned off the screen.
--
A few days later Frank was fighting with himself not to check the camera again. He felt like a creep. Which was unfair because she obviously put the camera there on purpose… but he still felt like a creep.
He had a new found empathy for David and how he’d spent hours glued to his monitors, watching his family. Now Frank knew, if he’d been able to watch his family, to be with them even from afar… he’d have wasted away in front of those screens. Would have forgotten to eat and sleep.
The urge to check in on Karen was similar, except it came loaded with guilt from wanting to spend time with her after he’d pushed her away, and confusion about why she’d let him in her house like this in the first place.
He tried to ignore the pull, but after two beers and dozen or so twitchy glances towards his desk, he couldn’t take it anymore. He fired up his computer and clicked over to the Flower Cam.
And instantly felt better.
This was a new look. Karen was in leggings and a big tee shirt, hair up in a messy bun, glasses perched on the end of her nose. Barefoot. Frank huffed a laugh. Goddamn adorable.
She had her computer open on her lap and was focused on the screen. Every once in a while she’d lean over and scribble something down in her notepad on the couch next to her. She was so focused. Frank remembered her like this. When she’d sat with him in his goddamn jail cell and gone over every single detail of his case, searching for the truth, for something that had been missed. She’d been consumed. Driven to help him, for reasons he still couldn’t understand. He remembered how her sky blue eyes had been on fire, how they’d given him hope. Her eyes looked the same now, and he wondered what poor bastard was out there tonight, with hope kindling in their chest because Karen Page was on their side.
Frank kept watching her, hypnotized. The longer he watched, the lonlier he felt. He wouldn’t have named this feeling ‘loneliness’ before she’d called him on it that night at the river, but now he knew. She was right. He was lonely. He had no one. Everyone was gone. Or he’d pushed them away. He wished he could talk to someone who actually knew him- just for a little while...
He was dialing her number before he’d consciously made the decision to call.
It was surreal, watching her pick up her phone, watching her eyes go wide at the number on her screen. Karen’s eyes darted to the camera as she answered.
“Frank?”
“Hey, Karen.”
“Um- hi. Are you… okay?”
She looked concerned. He loved that he could actually see her face.
“Yeah, yeah. I’m good. Just watching the latest episode of ‘The Karen Page Show’.”
She laughed.
“Pretty exciting stuff, huh?” She gestured around her sleepy, darkened apartment. “What will she get up to next?”
Frank laughed along with her. It was like he was right there with her. It felt good. Too good. He shouldn’t be calling her like this…
“Why did you put the camera up? Why didn’t you just throw it away?”
The laughter and light fell from her eyes and he regretted it, but he had to know. Why did she do it?
“I was going to throw it out.” She said, as she closed her computer and set it aside. “I’m not going to put flowers in the window. Ever.”
She looked straight into the camera. He understood what she was saying. She was just as stubborn as him. If he was going to tell her to stay away from him for her own safety, she wasn’t about to reach out to him for help if she was in trouble. She wanted to protect him, to keep him out of her problems.
That irked him. A lot.
But arguing with her about it would get him nowhere. She had brass balls and she wasn’t going to take his shit. She had him.
“Why didn’t you throw it out, Karen?”
She sighed.
“I don’t know.” She crossed her legs, curling in on herself a little. “It just felt like, if I threw that camera away, you’d be gone. It felt like I’d never see you again. And I just couldn’t.”
Frank’s chest ached for a second. Ached in a way that was starting to become familiar to him whenever he thought of Karen. She really did care about him. After all of it. He didn’t know how to feel about that. He couldn’t afford to analyze it. Not now.
“You should toss it, Karen. Throw it out.” He said, to himself just as much as to her. “Any connection to me is dangerous. You know this.”
She glared at the camera.
“How is this a connection to you? If anyone ever found the camera, they’d have no idea who was watching the feed. They couldn’t trace it back to you.”
“Maybe they could. You never know-”
“Bullshit.” Her fingers were raking through her hair, making a fist. She was pissed. “I’m not throwing the camera away. I’m not throwing you away. You aren’t going to put that on me, Frank. I’m not going to be the one who cuts you off. Do you know why?”
She leaned forward, brow furrowed. Just like the first time he’d met her in that hospital room, when she’d stepped over that red line.
“Because I care about you, you jackass! I want to be there if you need help! Or if you just need... a friend.”
She closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose.
“Listen, if you don’t want me in your life, then don’t check the camera. Don’t check in on me. Don’t call. But that’s on you- not me.”
Frank felt 2 inches tall. Annihilated.
“Ok. Ok. I’m sorry.” He whispered, not 100% sure what he was even apologizing for, but just… sorry.
“You should be.” She said, glaring off to the side, refusing to look at the camera.
“I am.”
“Good.” She was pouting now.
“You called me a jackass.”
She grinned and finally looked into the camera again.
“You are a jackass.”
“Fair enough.” He agreed.
Out of nowhere, Frank found himself playing with her, flexing muscles inside himself that hadn’t been used in a long time. He knew how to do this, how to get a girl to smile at him even while she was furious with him. He’d done this with Maria a thousand times. She’d be mad as hell, looking ready to clock him right in the face, and he could just turn it on. A little self deprecation, a little flattery and charm, and he’d earn himself a smile. More often than not he’d earn himself more than a smile… he’d make her laugh, and soon enough they’d find themselves in bed, sweating and straining together as the games ended and only the truth was left.
Strangely, these memories didn’t drown him like they normally would. Not while he talked to Karen. They were nice.
He was having fun riling Karen up, watching her emotions play across her face. Right when he would get her to a place where she was all softened up, smiling so sweet, he’d say something that would annoy the shit out of her. He’d wait for her to scowl at the camera and he couldn’t help it, he’d have to laugh. Like clockwork, the sound of his laughing would bring her back around, and he’d find her smiling at him again. He didn’t want the conversation to end. He asked her what she was working on, and how things were at the office with Murdock and the other one. And if she missed working at the paper. And how the hell she was friends with Jessica Jones.
It was the longest he’d talked to anyone in months. And his loneliness didn’t feel endless, or echoing, by the time they hung up.