ghosts from the past.

Madalyn opened her mouth, very near ready to tell rank to stop fucking calling her darlin' and shit. It was making her heart race in a way that she knew wasn't good. But even his name, Frank Castle's name, was enough to send her heart racing. It always had been and it likely always would be. Frank was her first love, you didn't just forget someone like that. Not when you had only had a few mild flings since, in part because you found yourself comparing every date to a man who wasn't yours and in part because you were too damn busy to do anything else.

Brushing her thumb over the rim of her glass, Madalyn took a swig of the amber liquid before glancing over to Frank. "I have tomorrow off. I'll do some work from home but it means I can sleep a hangover off without anyone getting pissy because I slept past five am," she muttered with a dry laugh. Madalyn hesitated for a moment longer before she reached for a second glass, pouring Frank his own round before she held it out to him.

"So who's Lieberman? I don't recall the name coming up in your fi-" Madalyn paused right then and there, her eyes widening just slightly when she realized that she had just admitted to looking at his file. She hadn't finished her words but she was damn sure Frank was smart enough to piece together the rest of her sentence.

Frank took the glass from her acceptingly, tipping it to hips lips and allowing the amber liquid to burn its way down the back of his throat. He licked his lip and laughed at her. “Five AM? Damn girl, that’s late for me.” Frank couldn’t remember the last time he slept past four AM. Every night he was haunted by them. Haunted by his wife berating him for his mind not being in the right place and then getting murdered right before his eyes. His limbs would never move fast enough, reaction time never quick enough to stop hit. He was never going to save her. Never. Not even in his dreams.

Franks eyes widened at the realization of what she was going to say. His file?! She had been looking at his file? Frank though he would break out in a cold sweat then and there. She probably did know. She knew every fucking gruesome, brutal, reality slapping detail of what he had done and what he had been accused of. What if she wasn’t going to help him? What if she was keeping him here just long enough for them to show up and shoot him down right then and there? He would never get it done. He would never finish the job. Frank had to take a moment and close his eyes and breathe as deeply as he could to bring back the calm. He was always over reacting, always paranoid, always fucking watching. If Madalyn Evans was out to get him, she already would have fucking got him. She wouldn’t play him like this. She couldn’t… Could she? Frank cleared his throat, trying to shake off the unwelcomed paranoia. It was taking all that was with in him not to get up and walk the fuck out right then and there.

“David Liberman used to be a NSA analyst. He had found some info on all the shit that went down over there that I was involved with. He wanted to expose them. Had to fake his own death so they didn’t fucking kill his family like they had killed mine,” Frank all but growled the last sentence, his eyes shifting away from Madalyn for a moment. “Probably why he isn’t coming up in my file.” Frank tried to smirk and make it a joke, and he hoped like hell it worked.

Madalyn didn't bother to hide the roll of her eyes when Frank teased her about when she woke up. "I roll out of bed at 5, showered and ready by 5.30 and I'm at the office by six most days," she answered simply, sure that Frank probably already knew her schedule. Or at least part of it. She sighed, gripping the edge of the counter with her free hand as she took another sip of her drink. The heat was enough to help her to relax a bit, the nerves easing just enough that she felt like she was simply talking to an old friend and not someone who was supposed to be dead several times over.

Tugging her bottom lip between her teeth, Madalyn looked up when Frank began to explain Lieberman. She frowned at the mention of the man's name, her heart skipping a beat. She made a silent promise that David would be reunited with his family. Maybe not today or tomorrow even but eventually, he would be. If she had any say in the matter. Grabbing the bottle from the counter, Madalyn inched back over to the dining room table. She filled her glass again before nudging the bottle in Frank's direction.

Pursing her lips together, Madalyn wondered if she really wanted the answers to what she was about to ask. She suspected that she probably didn't, not if it was what Frank was up against. She took a deep breathe, squaring her shoulders as she took yet another swig of her drink. "What's not in the file then, Frank? You keep telling me there's more than I know so... tell me. Enlighten me, Frank. I gotta know if I'm going to be as useful as I can be. And if you think that I'm going to sit on the side lines..." she trailed off, laughing as her eyes met Frank's. "You're a lot dumber than I remember."

The question that Madalyn just asked Frank made him feel like he was at an impasse. Frank did not want to answer that question. He had to live with it every single day of his life, among other things. He had been back in Madalyn’s life not even two hours and here she was already wanting him to spill the deepest, darkest parts of his life that he would rather not have to recount. How would he explain Cerberus? How would he explain Ahmad? How would he explain the torture? How would he tell her he thought that he was just following the fucking order even though he didn’t want too?

Frank chewed on the inside of his lip as he fingers unconsciously flexed and unflexed around the whiskey glass in his hand. That simply question took him back to that place, put the mask back on his face, and the gun in his hand. Brought him back to the realization of what he was going, wanting to rip apart Orange from limb to limb and fucking mail it to the front step of the God damn White House. Frank didn’t want to answer her question. He didn’t want to rehash it. He. Didn’t. Want. To.

But what would avoiding telling her do? Where would that get him? Well, it was simple really. He would tell her he didn’t want to talk about it and she would get defensive and think that he was hiding something. Truth be told, Frank was ready yet. He just wasn’t.

Frank took in a deep breath as he eyes scanned the room; he was looking anywhere and everywhere but at her. Not yet. Not yet. Not fucking yet. Frank took a long, slow drink of the liquor, wishing at that moment that his tolerance for alcohol wasn’t so fucking high. Finally, his eyes settled on her, “Not yet.” His voice was quiet, he was vulnerable. “Let’s not ruin this evening, I just, fuck. I don’t wanna go there yet. Just, not now.”

Madalyn watched Frank as he seemed to mull over her question, half expecting him to simply take a deep breathe and launch into a story that would change the very foundation of her life. But the moment that glass touched Frank's lips, Madalyn knew that wasn't what was about to happen. Her eyes narrowed and she prepared herself for an ensuing argument. Frank should have known that she wasn't going to sit on the sidelines and just watch shit go down. He was stupid if he did. But then Frank spoke and his voice was unlike anything Madalyn could remember hearing from him. He was obviously uncomfortable and she wouldn't push him any further. Not tonight, anyway.

At the moment, she felt like there was miles between them. Madalyn didn't necessarily think or even want a possible future with Frank but she wanted to get to the point where he trusted her wholeheartedly and to the point where he wasn't afraid of telling her things.

"Well, I was planning on going the hell to sleep after eating half assed boxed mac and cheese. I think you've already managed to ruin this evening," Madalyn answered coolly, raising an eyebrow in his direction. She hoped that he didn't take what she had to say the wrong way. She meant it as a sort of sarcastic joke and she hoped to God that Frank understood that. She didn't want to somehow end up pushing him away. Not when she had just gotten him back.

Madalyn's face scrunched a bit as she looked around the room. She wanted to ask Frank to do something else tonight, nothing particularly adult but she doubted Frank would be down for it. So instead, Madalyn was quiet for a long moment as she sipped her drink. "You know... I wish I had something half as exciting as I'm still alive to tell you but my life has been a pretty boring fucking mess comparatively," she commented, letting out a dry laugh.

It seemed as though the entire dynamic of this evening had changed as soon as the topic was brought up. Frank was doing what he always did, sticking himself in past events. Reliving things that had already come and gone. Why couldn’t he just stop? He could hear Maria yelling at him now, standing in the middle of the kitchen, telling him to wake the fuck up and be in the present—he wasn’t over there anymore. But dammit, it was hard when that was all he knew for the majority of his adult life. A small smile tugged at Frank’s lips when he realized that they weren’t going to argue. He wasn’t going to have to go over all the shit that had happened.

Frank knew he was going to have to tell her sooner or later, there was no getting around that. It just wasn’t going to fucking happen. He knew Madalyn and eventually she was going to push him and press his buttons until he snapped and yelled. Frank knew he was going to have to do it on his own terms, and sooner being the operative.

It took Frank a moment to understand that she was being sarcastic. His head space well all kinds of fucked up at the moment. Really, he wanted to run or punch something or scream. But here he was, sitting in his ex-girlfriends living room, trying not to have a mental fucking breakdown. Thank God for Curtis and those stupid fucking Vet meetings. “Sorry bout that,” Frank laughed, a laugh that he knew she was going to see right through. “I kinda just dropped in on you didn’t I?”

Frank finished the rest of what was in his glass, half tempted to pour himself another. “Well, seems like you’ve done pretty damn well for yourself, got a good payin’ job and shit. Seem like your real important and what not at the fuckin’ CIA, yeah?”

Madalyn let out a breathe through her nose, the only laugh she was going to give against Frank's statement. She shrugged her shoulders, glancing around the apartment. "I guess. I never planned on doing life simple. Gotta keep it interesting, don't I? Shit, I haven't even been on a date in over three years. It's always work, work, work. No fuckin' play," she said. She shifted in her seat, a thought crossing her mind. Madalyn's lips pursed as she tried to weigh the pros and the cons and before she could really contemplate them, she whispered a soft 'fuck it' to herself.

She pushed to her feet and slowly, she drew closer to Frank. Madalyn didn't look to meet his eyes until she was standing in front of him. She blushed as her eyes met his and for a moment, she second guessed herself. "Hi," she whispered, letting out a nervous laugh. Madalyn cleared her throat.

Her eyes flickered to Frank's lips and she very nearly did lean forward but at the last moment, Madalyn thought better of it. Instead, Madalyn held out her hand to him while motioning toward the couch in the corner of her living room. "Come on. Take your shirt off and relax. I'll give you a back massage and hopefully you'll feel a bit better after." Madalyn offered him a brilliant smile as she took a step toward the couch.

Starting to pout when Frank didn't fall into step immediately, Madalyn raised an eyebrow. "Come on. It's not like we're going to fuck, Jesus. Besides," she paused, her lips quirking upward in a smirk. "It's probably been just as long for you as it's been for me."

Never in million years would Frank had guessed that Madalyn hadn’t been on a date in that long. Madalyn was a beautiful girl, hell, woman now. When Frank was with her, it was almost like he had to carry a damn bat with him or something to keep people away from his girl. He shook his head, a lazy smile settling on to his lips. He looked over at the bottle of liquor, the had nearly finished half of it. He was definitely feeling a little looser now, a little more comfortable. Something he hadn’t felt in a long time. “I highly doubt that you ain’t had a date in over three years, Maddy.”

Franks heart raced as she appeared in Front of him, he wasn’t sure why. Frank hadn’t had a woman close to him in what felt like centuries, unless you counted Karen Page sitting next to him at his trial. “What are you doin’, silly girl?” Frank laughed, trying to brush off the sanitation. And then she was throwing orders at him. Frank looked up at her standing before him, eyes looking at her with utter confusion. Words were stuck in the back of his throat, he wasn’t sure what he needed to do. But dammit if a massage didn’t sound good at the moment. Frank let out a defeated sigh and stood up. He unzipped his hoodie and placed it on the back of the couch. He was looking at her with a raised eyebrow, to which she promptly told him they weren’t fucking. He knew she was feeling the same way he was; almost drunk.

“Fine, dammit.” Frank laughed, peeling his shirt off and tossing it at her. “But don’t do that shit you used to do when you dig your damn elbows into me because you say ‘if it doesn’t hurt, it doesn’t work.’” Frank teased and laid down on the couch.

Madalyn swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat while she watched Frank peel his shirt off. Her heart skipped a beat and she wondered if things were going to go way further than she had originally thought it might. Was it too late to pull back? Madalyn didn't think so, Frank wasn't the sort to push things further than she was comfortable with. Shaking off the doubts, Madalyn followed Frank over to the couch while rolling her eyes.

"It's true. Sorry that it hurts but I mean... I always made up for it, didn't I?" Madalyn asked with a soft giggle. She moved to straddle Frank's back and started working on his shoulders, mouth down his back slowly. She was relaxed, she would go so far as to say that she was happy. Nervous and unsure of what was really happening but this wasn't bad. It couldn't hurt, right? They were two grown adults, they could do whatever the hell they wanted to. No one could tell them different.

Madalyn leaned down, her breathe catching as she pressed a feather light kiss to Frank's shoulder. Barely enough to even be considered a kiss but a brush of her lips. She hesitated, not so much as moving a muscle until she felt Frank start to relax beneath her. She repeated this action, slowly moving down his spine.

There was nothing harder that Frank had been faced with recently, as the physical restraint he was putting in to not flipping Madalyn over and making a mistake. He hadn’t been touched the way she was touching him now, in a very long time. Frank forgot how good it felt to have a woman’s soft hands caressing his skin. Frank audibly groaned as she began to work at the knots in his back. It wasn’t until he felt her lips on his skin that he physically tensed up. It was almost like his heart has stopped beating behind his chest, breath not able to be received to his lungs. What are—what are you doing, he wanted to whisper, but once again, his body was not responding to his commands.

It wasn’t until she stopped, that he finally melted back into the couch, they weren’t doing anything wrong. They were both drunk and not thinking about what they were doing. If Frank was sober, there was no way in hell that he would be laying shirtless on her couch with her hands all over him.

Just as Frank began to make the decision to roll over, her front door was being kicked in. Frank shot up, carefully moving Madalyn to the side and reached for the gun that was stuck in his boot. His eyes were narrowed and as soon as he saw who was standing in the doorway, Frank was almost furious. “What the fuck Lieberman!”

David Lieberman stood in the doorway, a mess of curly hair and glasses and chest heaving from the breaths he was puffing in and out. “Well you weren’t answer your damn phone and we agreed on two hours. It’s been almost three, Frank!”

Frank ran a frustrated hand over his face, shaking his head and swooping down to pick up his shirt. He angrily tugged it over his head, sure that the moment was ruined. “Yeah, remind me never to fuckin’ do that again.”

Madalyn's entire body jolted when the first kick hit her front door. Her head shot up, her eyes moving to the pistol that laid on her dining room table. It would take five and a half steps to get to it and another second before she would be ready for whatever was about to burst through the door. She was anticipating the worst, someone sent to kill Frank who had been watching her and simply waiting for him to show his face. It seemed like the alcohol had washed away and in an instant, Madalyn was stone cold sober as she laid between Frank's hard side and the back of her couch, her heart beating a mile a minute.

It only took a fraction of a second for Madalyn to piece together who the man standing in her doorway was and she let out a bitter laugh, her eyes landing on him as she scrutinized him. He was both exactly what she had expected out of someone helping Frank, looking slightly crazy as he stood in the door but at the same time, the exact opposite. "Blocked," she grumbled under her breathe, just thankful that none of her clothes had been abandoned yet.

Madalyn's stomach dropped at Frank's comment to Lieberman, pushing herself up into a sitting position. She sat there, a little dumbfounded and a whole lot frustrated as Frank moved away from her. She opened her mouth to speak but she had no fucking clue what she was supposed to say now. To her, it seemed like Frank regretted something that had almost happened. She stared down at her knees, clasping her hands out in front of her.

Grinding her teeth together, Madalyn looked toward the balcony door that she had never once used. It was just a weak link in the chain that she wasn't willing to play with. If someone wanted her dead, shooting her while she was on her balcony wasn't too farfetched.

"You know where to find me. If you need something, I'll answer," Madalyn forced the words out, feeling the sharp sting of tears in the corner of her eyes. She hated it and damnit, she wasn't about to cry in front of Frank or David.

Frank’s eyes shot to Madalyn, concern etched onto his face. He knew that tone of voice and the way she had said those words to him. He must have done or said something wrong. His brows were pulled to gather in confusion as he looked at her and watched her turn away briefly. That really did him in. He waved at Micro to leave for a moment, and the hacker nodded and obliged to his friend’s request.

“Madalyn, what’s wrong?” Frank asked sincerely. No matter or smart or intuitive he was, at the end of the day, Frank Castle was just a man. No mind powers, no super powers, nothing extra. Just a regular man with some military training and above average strength.

Frank stood awkwardly and unmoving for several minutes as he waited for her to say something. To say anything. He just needed her to communicate with him and tell him what was up. He wasn’t stupid, contrary to popular belief. “Did I say somethin’ or do somethin’? I mean, gimme something to go on here, I don’t wanna leave with you being all pissed at me and shit… I know you a little better than that.”

Frank continued to wait for her to say something but he wasn’t quite sure how much longer he needed to wait. He sighed and reached over to the back of the couch to grab his hoodie. Frank pulled the hoodie on and put the hood up and shoved his hands in the pockets. “Well, I guess I should go then.”

Madalyn drew in a shaky breathe, once again cursing Frank Castle because there was nothing that he wouldn't be able to get out of her. It could be the secret that meant she would live or die and still, she would spill just about everything to Frank if it meant him being remotely pleased with her. She didn't know why she was so hung up on him, why she always had been. When she was younger, before she really knew what a boyfriend or relationship meant, she had liked Frank. In a stupid childhood crush sort of way.

She still refused to look at Frank. "This," she paused just long enough to motion toward the couch. "Was a bad idea. I was stupid and I wasn't thinking. I'm sorry." Madalyn moved to stand, motioning with her chin toward her front door. "You have my number. If you need me, call it. If I don't answer, call me back in exactly one hour. If I don't answer then, I'll call you back when I'm able to." With that, Madalyn headed into her bedroom and shut the door behind her.

---

The past few days at work had been interesting. The next day after Frank had appeared in her apartment, Madalyn had gone out with Sam and trusting the man, she had spilled a bit more than maybe she should have. The next thing she knew, Madani was waiting for her in her office. And fuck, Madalyn knew what was coming out of that woman's mouth before anything was even fucking said.

It had been two days since that discussion and Madalyn clung to her phone, waiting for Frank to call. She didn't have his number, didn't know how to contact him or Lieberman so she sat and waited for Frank to contact her first. And when he did, she told him to come by her place tonight because there was an important thing they needed to discuss.

Madalyn had gotten off work early for this express purpose and God, as she sat at her dining room table waiting for Frank to make his appearance, she grew nervous. The longer that she sat there, the more nervous she got for the discussion that she knew was coming.

Frank wasn’t sure why it bothered him that Madalyn had said what transpired was a mistake. He didn’t think it was a mistake, because Frank Castle didn’t fucking make mistakes. He allowed himself to over think it and analyze this situation from every angle. What had he said? Did he do something? Nevertheless, Frank decided that the obviously didn’t matter that much, because he hadn’t garnered enough bother from it to contact Madalyn in the following days. Yet, now, Frank had a weird feeling. His intuition was telling him there was something going on. The past few days had been very, very off for the man. So he decided to give Madalyn a call. And to his surprise, she answered and asked him to come over. Why the hell would she want him to come over when she had seemed so vehement with him before?

Frank was nervous to say the least. He knew that this had to be something serious. Serious enough for him to actually get to her house to talk. But what about? Frank’s fingers gripped the steering wheel tightly as he drove, losing himself in his mind. He was trying to think of all the options that were on the table. Was Madalyn not the same girl anymore and he was about to walk into a fucking CIA set up? No, no, it couldn’t be that. Had she told someone he was alive? Contacted someone she shouldn’t have? At this point, the possibilities were endless.

Frank parked his car in an alley about two blocks away from her apartment and walked the rest of the way. He had his ball cap pulled down low, shielding his face and eyes from anyone who may pass by. When he got to her apartment building he took the stairs two at a time. He stood at her front door and rolled his neck and shoulders, letting out a breath before he finally knocked.

Madalyn didn't get nervous very often, not like she was at the moment. She wasn't afraid that Frank was going to hurt her, if she had been, she would have never bothered to even invite him over to tell him about what happened. No, she was more afraid that Frank was going to be mad at her and sever any ties that she had to him. Just having learned that he was still alive and fighting a week ago, Madalyn wasn't ready to say goodbye again. Not now, not yet.

Swallowing the lump that formed in her throat at the sound of the knock at her door, Madalyn jumped to her feet. She smoothed her hands down over the material of her jeans as she moved to pull open the door. She quickly stepped out of Frank's way, allowing him into her apartment before she shoved the door shut. Her stomach was twisted into a firm knot, one that she couldn't shake, one that had gotten worse since Frank had just arrived.

Madalyn drew in a deep breathe, looked up to Matt, before she looked away from him. She sighed, running a hand down her face. "Look. I don't..." Fuck. Madalyn took another deep breathe, moving to drop down into one of the chairs at her dining room table. "Sam Stein, he's a CIA agent. Happens to be Madani's partner, happens to be my best fuckin' friend. We went out for drinks the night after you came over," she paused just long enough to wet her lips. "I told him you were still around. That you still had some fight left in you." Madalyn's heart was beating so hard and so fast that she was sure it was about to beat right out of her chest and land on the floor between them. "Told Madani but that's all they got out of me and truthfully, they have no fuckin' evidence to the contrary so it's not like they can present a case against me." Madalyn looked up to Frank then, spitting out an apology that she was almsot sure would fall on deaf ears. "I'm sorry, Frank. I-I... I didn't mean to."

Frank had walked into the apartment and sat down at her dining room table with wholehearted intentions of listening to what she had to say, because as soon as he saw her face he knew it wasn’t going to be good. But the moment she began to stutter, the moment the words I told him you were still around fell from her lips, he could have fucking lost it right then and there. His hands were gripping the edge of the table with brute strength, he was mentally having to repeat to himself not to fucking flip that table over.

Frank stared at her long and hard for several minutes. He was counting his breaths, trying to calm down before he unleashed on her. This Frank, the one in the present, should have—would have—just completely fucked her world up. But Frank was trying to be the old version of himself, at least for her sake. But when he opened his mouth to speak, he couldn’t stop himself. “How could you be so fucking stupid Evans? Are you trying to fuckin’ get me killed? Are you trying to get me sent the fuck back? Are you trying to get more people killed?!”

Frank pushed back from the table, his chair audibly scraping across the floor. His fingers were laced behind his head as he turned away from her. “God, I can’t even fuckin’ look at you right now… You might have well told me you were gonna fuckin’ arrest me and put a fuckin’ nail in my coffin as soon as I stepped in the damn door!” Frank was yelling now, still turned away from her. His heart was beating out of his chest, his heart battling his mind to push back the rage. His mind was winning. “DO you have a fuckin’ death wish, Madalyn? Do you? Is that why you made such a stupid fucking decision?! I thought you were better than this! I thought you were smarter, Miss. Fucking CIA.”

Frank finally turned to look at her. “I don’t want your help. I don’t need your fuckin’ help. This is the same reason I fuckin’ ended it before I left—you crack under pressure and give shit up when it gets too hard. I’m fuckin’ done—again.”

Madalyn had known that Frank would be pissed off at her and rightfully so. She had spilled a secret that she should have kept under lock and key but there wasn't a single damn thing she could do about it now. She couldn't go back into the past and change things because, hell, if she could, she would reverse things up until Frank lost his family. Maybe he wouldn't hurt as much as he did now if she did. She felt her heart squeeze as Frank unleashed on her, her head hanging as she felt tears sting the corner of her eyes.

No, no, no! She couldn't cry in front of Frank, not over this. Not when she was the one that had fucked up to begin with. Placing any of the guilt on Frank's shoulders, that wasn't fair to him. Not when he already carried so much around. Madalyn gave a small shake of her head, feeling not unlike a scolded child who didn't realize what they were doing was wrong until it was too damn late. Reaching up, Madalyn pressed her palms into her eyes in a weak effort to stop the tears from flowing.

"Don't. Don't. Fuckin' threaten Sam," Madalyn hissed, her own anger surging at the prospect. She looked up to the back of Frank's head, shaking her head. "He's a good fuckin' guy. Clean. He's not going to try and ruin your damn life. He's good, just like I am, asshole."

Her walls started to crumble when Frank began to call her stupid. "Well, n-no... I just.." Madalyn started to try and defend herself, her voice sounding far more meek than she was used to. She cleared her throat, drawing in a deep breathe as the seriousness of the situation seemed to wash over her. Whatever defense she had, it was gone.

Frank turned and Madalyn held her breathe, stupidly hoping that maybe Frank wasn't as angry with her as maybe she thought he was. But then his last sentence, it cut right through her core and she was left breathless, staring up at Frank. Whatever control she had left on her emotions was gone, her tears silently falling down her cheeks. Madalyn was so damn good at her work. She put her heart and soul into it but here, right now, she realized that maybe she wasn't as good at everything as she thought she was. That the life she had built for herself was more of a facade than she was willing to admit. Madalyn hung her head, staring down at her lap as tears clouded her vision. She didn't even bother trying to hide them, knowing it was useless. Feeling like she had all those years ago when Frank broke up with her, Madalyn finally forced herself to shrug. "J-Just... I'm sorry," she choked out, motioning with a hand toward the door. "Just. Just. Go. We w-will forget," she paused to drag in a ragged breathe. "T-This happened..."

Frank bit down on the inside of his lip the moment she burst into tears. It pissed him off and made him guilty all at the same time. His heart was telling him to go comfort her, tell them they’ll work passed it. But his brain, his logic, was telling him that she go do fuck all for all it was worth. Frank’s nostrils flared as he inhaled, trying to remember all the shit Curtis taught him to keep him calm. It wasn’t working.

“Nah,” Frank laughed dryly, “Nah, nah. You can’t go turnin’ this shit into a fuckin’ pity party, Madalyn. What you did was so fuckin’ stupid. Why would you do that to me? After all’a the shit I told you? All’a the shit I begged you not do to? I fuckin’ told you not to say shit, not to talk to nobody. If you’re so smart ‘n shit, you know what’s goin’ on right now. You know as soon as they figure out my ass is alive, I’m good as dead unless I get to them first.”

Frank licked his bottom lip, his head shaking as he continued to stare her down. His face was stoic now, void of emotion. He had to push her away. He couldn’t let old feelings and old emotions get involved in this new life. She was now a liability to him, a fuckin’ rat as well. “You should’a known better. It’s obvious to me, Madalyn, you don’t give two fucks about me—or else you wouldn’ta done what you did.”

Frank, above the rage and disappointment and resentment, was heartbroken. He couldn’t believe that someone who he trusted with his life, had once loved with every fiber in his being, would do something like that to him. If Frank had anymore tears for this life, he could have cried right then and right there. He heaved a heavy breath, trying to will every emotion away and detach—something he had become quite good at, but that was not working for him right now—before he looked up at her. His voice was low, gravely, and broken as he spoke: “How could you do this to me?”

Madalyn winced, gritting her teeth as she reached up to wipe her tears away with the back of her hands. She sniffled, just feeling worse and worse as Frank dug into her. It wasn't even that she felt sorry for herself because she didn't, she knew Frank was right. And that was the part that hurt her more than anything. To finally have the reason why Frank broke up with her hit her in such an awful situation, to have Frank back from the dead, only to lose him because she'd been stupid and thought that maybe it was okay to indulge in telling Sam. Sam was her best friend, she trusted the bastard with every fiber of her being. With reason to. He'd always cared about doing what was right, usually by the books, but now, Sam was starting to flirt with the line that separated what was right and wrong. That it wasn't always the law that was right.

Swallowing, Madalyn was at a loss for for words. She didn't even know what to say to Frank that would get him to understand where she was coming from. She didn't even know if there was anything she could say.. his question, it broke her heart all over again.

"If i didn't give a shit about you, do you think I would have bothered telling you?" Madalyn hissed, her frustration coming to the forefront. She glared up at Frank, not even trying to wipe away the few stray tears that still were threatening to fall. "Sam's a friend. He can be trusted and you wanna know something, I think Madani can be, too. She wants the people to pay who were behind Cerberus, not you. Not Billy, not anyone else who was just following a damn order."

Madalyn was breathless, having taken a breathe just once between sentences. "I didn't do it to you. Stop. Stop fuckin' acting like I'm out to get you. God damn it, Frank. If I was, you wouldn't be standing here screaming at me. You'd be in cuffs, again. And I helped cover your tracks from Madani.I tried to tell you to let me help you but you kept refusing the last time I saw you. Said it was too dangerous, blahblahblah. Like I'm some fuckin' child who can't take care of myself!" Madalyn was shouting for the first time, slamming her hand down on the table in front of her. "I wanted to help you. Hell, I still do. You want to know why? Because I believe in you, I believe what happened to you and your family was fuckin' wrong but all you can see is that I made a mistake. Must mean that I'm just like everyone else who thinks you're some horrible fuckin' person, right?" Madalyn spat, pointing a finger at Frank.

"Fuck you, Frank. Just. Fuck. You." Madalyn snapped, looking away from him. She ground her teeth together, her chest heaving as she tried to calm herself down. "You're such a fucking asshole, you know that?"

“You think that helpin’ me is going to yet another person in the fuckin’ CIA and telin’ them I’m alive?!” Frank was full on shouting at her now. He didn’t give two shits if she had told damn Johnny Cash that he was alive—she shouldn’t have fucking done it. Because not only did it make him a wide open living target, it made her one now too. Now they new she was involved with Frank Castle. God forbid she didn’t bend the way they wanted her too and something happen to her—Frank couldn’t bare to have that on his hands. Anyone who wasn’t Frank or Micro couldn’t be trusted as far as he was concerned. She had no right going and doing that.

But she was trying to help…

That wasn’t a rational thought in Frank’s mind at the moment. He was overstricken by anger, it clouding his judgment and his mind and his body and-and-and-

“Do you even realize what you could have done, Madalyn?” Frank whispered. “Do you even realize that you’re a fuckin’ target now too? Do you?” Frank was looking at her wildly, wanting her to answer but he didn’t give her time, “What am I supposed to do if you fuckin’ get her? I came to you because I trusted you would keep this shit between us Maddy!” He spat her nickname at her like it was poison on his tongue. “Fuck!”

Frank walked towards the door, staring at the wood that was begging him to just leave and stop going around in circles with her. Frank stood there, unmoving, for several un counted minutes. Just silent as his mind reeled. He realized, now that he shut the hell up, that Madalyn wouldn’t ever do anything to potentially put him in danger. Hell, Frank knew she could be trusted—he knew that, but she totally was out of line for what she did.

Frank turned around, rubbing a hand over his face. When he spoke again, his voice was softer and quieter. “Look, I don’t give a shit who you trust and what you think ya can trust them with. I specifically fuckin’ told you, Madalyn. I told you not to say shit and then ya did.” He looked away from her, urging himself to keep level. “I can’t get passed that right now, I just can’t. But I’m sorry for yellin’ and shit I just…” He shook his head. “Just forget it, what is done is done and ain’t nothing we can do about it to change it.”