Arson

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Author's note:Quiet Reflection, by Tyler Bates

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Alexandria's P.O.V.

The first-aid box was tight in my hold. Cautiously, I take in a breath and go into the bathroom...Frank stood there, alone. Bleeding. Staring into the eyes of the broken reflection that looked back.

The scarlet liquid that dripped from him steadily dropped into the sink water. He doesn't move...barely acknowledged I was there...just, lost in his own world.

A terrifying, dark world.

He struggles to tear the shirt off, snarling in agony as it clings to his wounded body...I couldn't stand to hear his cries anymore.

"Stop..." I spoke in a low tone. "You'll only hurt yourself more. Just, let me help you."

He sighed, or, huffed in an aggravated tone...but Castle allows me to offer my aid. The black fabric tears from my quick rip, and it falls off of him in a mangled pile of tatters and blood.

Placing the first-aid box down, the clips are flicked open, and I go for the alcohol. The rags inside are plentiful, so I won't run out any time soon.

The bottle dips into the rougher fabric. Now sterile, I press the rag on his largest wound.

I've never seen him so shaken up...Frank didn't even acknowledge the pain from the alcohol.

Grabbing the stitching, I open the packet and thread the string through the hole. A part of me wanted him to be looking at anything other than that mirror...but it was like he was in a trance. Fixated on it, almost...

"Be ready, the needle's going in."

It stabbed through his flesh. Weaving and tying the thread through the skin, it suture's into a clean stitch. I grabbed the remaining thread, and tore it off as excess.

Now, time for the head wound.

"Castle...can you at least say something!? The silence is killing me..."

Shutting his eyes in a pained flutter, a deep breath enters his lungs, and exits in a calm sigh.

"Billy." Is all he uttered.

"What about him?"

"He's the one that shot me in the head. And the arm."

"...Oh, no...you don't think-"

"I don't think," He snarled, shaking in unmeasurable rage. "I know."

"Frank, I'm so sorry..." The new piece of twine goes through the needle, ready to be used again. Reaching up for his head, I start suturing up that wound as well.

"Don't be. It ain't your fault. It's mine for bein' the fool that trusted him."

The two of us stay in silence as I finish patching him up. Finally, I close it enough, and break the remaining thread.

But he was still covered in blood. I wasn't allowing him back in the bed like this.

So...I take a rag, and start filling up the sink with water.

"Madani was there. Micro...he told her."

"Everything?"

"Enough."

The rag is wet enough now. I press it on his right pec, and watched the blood gradually start to wash off.

He watches my every move, and puts up zero resistance.

"I didn't know, if that's what you're implying. He just...left, and wouldn't tell me where he was going," The rag becomes a light pink, stained with the blood of The Punisher. Switching to a different rag, I moved to his head and began the same process. "I should've stopped him..."

"It's fine."

"Is it?"

"We'll just have to see."

He's finally clean, freed from the prominent physical reminder of it all.

...But so many scars from the past.

I trail my hand along his side, feeling the scars. Frank follows me, head turning like a turret as he tracked me.

I know he won't tell me how he got them. Some people have secrets, and Frank just had more than most...so I wouldn't pry.

Correction, I wouldn't pry that much.

"Did you get all of these while you were serving?"

"Most."

"Don't worry, you don't have to tell me anything if you don't want to."

"...It wasn't the war over there, or even the one in Kandahar. When I got home, everything was turned upside down. Maria...the kids..."

"Who were they?" I asked in a soft and understanding tone.

"...Before you, I had a family. A wife and kids. Half the time, I was overseas, serving and such. When I came back, it was like they skipped years in age...my son was becomin' a little man, and my baby girl-" He was spilling, the flood gates had cracked - and had no intention in stopping. "She was the smartest thing...I loved all of 'em, with everythin' I HAD."

Staying silent was best. He needed to talk, so I was here to listen.

"On my way home from my last tour, I decided to surprise my little girl in class. It takes her awhile to realize I'm there, but when she does...it was safe to say she was the only thing holdin' me up. I remember it so clearly, like it was yesterday..." He laughed, remembering a happier time in his life. "Her favorite book at the time was 'One Batch, Two Batch, Penny and a Dime'. She'd make me read that thing before bed...b-but I was so tired..."

His top lip quivered into a snarl, and drops his head.

"I promised her I'd read it the next night...but it just so happened that my wife had planned a trip to the park for us to all do...but it turns out, I'd be the only one walkin' out alive."

I covered my mouth, feeling the tears sting already.

"I-...what can I say...?"

"...Alexandria, all my life, I've been fightin' for the people I love. I think everythin's been said has already been."

My lips press into his back, it was the only thing I could think of. Snaking my grasp around his stomach, I rested them on the abs. It was a deep embrace...he needed it.

He needed me.

"...And I fought for you."

...Wait. What did he mean by that?

"What does that-"

"You know what that means."

"...Castle..." I let go of him, the breath and strength taken away from me in complete shock. "I-..."

"Yeah...I'm in love with you, Alex."