Chapter Text
Not again.
Karen has, in fairness, a tolerance for weird shit that would surprise just about anybody who walked past her, and while it is never a good sign that she’s pretty sure she’s not alone in her apartment, the feeling in the back of her spine is calmer than it should be under these circumstances, like-
“Relax, I won’t hurt you.”
Really.
She decides, for the moment, for the sake of whatever sanity she’s got left, to ignore the elephant in the room. Turn on the lights, kick off her shoes, put her bag down on the counter, consider whether she feels like opening a bottle of wine, consider-
“If you broke my window-“
“You know I wouldn’t.”
There’s something she shouldn’t like so much about these encounters, she thinks. The steadiness of Frank’s voice suggests he’s not here because her apartment is once again a convenient place to try to bleed out, which means he either wants something or she’s pissed off the wrong person again and hasn’t quite figured it out and honestly she’s not sure which of those options she’s hoping for and-
“You better have a good reason for-“
“Always do.”
She believes him. Isn’t that where their problems always seem to be? If something makes him pop up in her life, well… always better not to ask questions, not until someone starts shooting at her anyways, but easier to just go with it. To trust, to the extent that she can trust anyone these days, that he actually does mean well.
“Are you going to tell me what that reason is, or do I get to find out when it’s all over my phone?”
“Yu aways assume the worst.”
“I’ve known you long enough for that to be fair.”
He doesn’t say anything for a few moments too long, just stays where he’s been for god-knows-how-long against a doorframe and if any other man she’s ever let int this space – not that “let in” is an accurate description but details – was that close to her bed she’d wonder what they wanted but this one-
“Karen-“
“Am I in danger, or are you?”
“Would you believe me if I say I’m not sure yet?”
So, probably both of them, for reasons currently unconnected but they will be by the time whatever the hell this is blows over…
“So what’s the plan?”
“Not the first night I’ve spent on your couch…”
None of which were remotely her idea, she’d say if she wanted to pick a fight, but none of which ended up unwanted either. He’s at least a respectful houseguest, on the occasions he’s not bleeding – doesn’t break anything, doesn’t actually sleep for more than twenty minutes in a stretch from what she can tell but stays quiet enough that she does – and she gets the protectiveness of it, the fact that he is here right now in her apartment because this is what he values most in the world, because she is what he values most in the world and someday she’s going to accept that for what it is and someday-
Not today, Karen thinks. Not for a long while yet.
She’d been thinking about a bottle of cheap white wine and she pulls it out, two glasses even though she’s not entirely sure if-
“Not an immediate threat?”
“Not sure.”
“Join me?”
This might be a bad idea. If it’s going to be a long night… but on the other hand there’s no harm in taking the edge ff, and if anything were clear enough to worry she wouldn’t but-
They got comfortable with each other, she thinks as he takes the wineglass from her hands, fingertips brushing for a heartbeat. She ought to be more annoyed by the situation than she is, but there’s just something about them now where she can’t be, she can’t-
“You’re safe,” he murmurs.
“I know.”
This is why there’s a bag in her closet that she won’t open even though she knows he wouldn’t mind if she got curious enough. This is why people she’s never met wouldn’t ever dream of touching her. Because enough of them know what she does sometimes in the dark, just enough of them know, and-
She wonders sometimes if anyone would believe how innocent they really are. She wonders if anyone would believe it if that ever changes.
“Are you alright?” she asks after one of those silences where time doesn’t mean anything, after most of a glass of wine and she’s half tempted to have another, tempted to do a lot of things, tempted to-
“Safer not to be alone tonight.”
She hears what he doesn’t say, that this is more abut him than he’s letting on, that the things in his mind that make him what he is aren’t safe right now and somehow that always seems to bring him here, to her, because she’s the one good thing left and that should scare her so much more than it does and-
“I should get you a key.”
“Already have one.”
“Do I want to know?”
“Figured it’d be in your favor if the building manager thinks you’ve got a boyfriend.”
Well there goes any realistic chance of her actually getting one, she thinks, but it’s not like she’s got time or energy or-
This dynamic they have fills those spaces well enough, she realizes. She should’ve seen that sooner, but she does now. They aren’t like that, but they might as well be for all the places they end up anyways.
“And what exactly did you say?”
“Nothing that wasn’t true.”
“You managed to get a key without me knowing, I’m not sure how-“
“I worry abut you, and maybe it’s a little early for that step but I’ll sleep better if I can know you’re safe.”
“And they believed that.” Not as much of a question as it should be.
“Anybody who’s met you would believe it.”
Met, yes; actually gotten to know, probably not, but-
If anyone ese did this to her, Karen thinks, she would seriously consider how she feels about murder. But it’s different here. With this person. With how strange they aways are.
“You’ll need a cover story for why you’re usually wounded when you come over,” she murmurs, almost a laugh.
“Bad luck won’t do?”
“Bad luck doesn’t explain why I have a whole kit for removing bullets.”
“You’ve got steadier hands. Never meant more than that.”
She’s still seen him do it himself, and some of that is honestly impressive, but-
“At least you always look better when you leave. I have enough red flags without getting mistaken for an abusive girlfriend.”
“So you’re alright with-“
“I’ve pretended to be your wife as part of some of your… projects. This is nothing.”
But it isn’t, Karen thinks as she decides she is definitely going to need a second glass of wine to get through this. It’s formal like they’ve never been before, and maybe it means something, maybe the eternal disaster of them might not be as permanent as she’d thought that day she realized she trusted him more than anyone else in the world and-
“Should’ve asked. See that now.”
“I’m not asking for an apology. We’re not like that.”
And he’s saved her life enough times, she thinks but doesn’t say, that it shouldn’t matter if he does something a little questionable to make that routine easier. She trusts that absolute loyalty, even if she isn’t sure how it works, and-
“Still should’ve-“
“Do I look mad at you, Frank?”
He’s quiet for a few heartbeats too long, then-
“Don’t know that you’ve ever been.”
He’s right, and she hates it.
He’s right, and they’ve had a few years to get this far, and somewhere in that mess Karen realized this might actually be the rest of her little life and she might actually like it and-
“Are you trying for a first time?”
He gives her a look that she’d describe as playful if that word didn’t fit him so wrong, like does she even know what kind of double entendre she just said, like-
“No. I like you on my side.”
They stand in silence for a while and this is as normal as her life ever gets, these moments of reclaimed peace in the most unlikely circumstances and-
“If you’re going to be my fake boyfriend, you should probably not ghost me for weeks on end.”
“Didn’t tell anyone the relationship was functional,” he counters, almost a laugh.
“Functional enough you have a key looks like you abandoning me is wrong.”
“You’d make someone happy. Moment you do…”
Screw this, she thinks, leaning in to kiss the side of his face. It’s a heartbeat, a feather, a beginning, the most reckless thing she’s done in a life full of those kind of choices and-
“What if I already do?”
“Could still do better.”
“And if I don’t care?”
He turns his head and puts his lips on hers and she’s had enough first kisses over the years to know what a good one is like and this one is good, this one is potential, this one is-
“You have a way of crawling under a person’s skin and making a home there.”
“And do you mind?”
“Not for a moment.”
{Technically, nothing re happens that night. Except for the part where she doesn’t sleep alone. Except for the part where she wakes up warm, and she’s used to him letting himself out around sunrise but this time he stays, this time…}
{This time, she wakes up first and kisses his eyelids and this is what it’s like to begin again.}