Girl, You Taste Like Sugar

He can hear the sound of the weak shower going, a static sound in the background, as he lowers himself into the chair in the living room. It doesn’t matter that she showered this morning; she’s gotta take another one because she kept saying that the blood made her itchy. Now there’s an image he can’t seem to shake. Her hair blowing all over the place as half her body hung out the window, the big grin on her face that showed a line of white teeth, and the spray of blood and other things after she pulled the trigger. He knew she was dead as soon as he slammed on the brakes, but she wasn’t. (She isn’t dead.) Her eyes had been a little bloodshot and her face had been a little paler than usual, but she’d been alive. (She’s alive and breathing right now.)

“I’m alive, after taking a bullet to the brain. Can you do that?” They’d been sitting so close that all he’d been able to see was the pale color of her eyes, and he’d watched as the broken blood vessels in her eyes just vanished. The blood remained, but the hole was gone. He’s heard about the enhanced, knows that they can do things above and beyond his imagination, but he never expected to see that.

“You’re thinking too hard, Castle.” She’s wearing the same clothes as earlier. Green jeans and baggy gray sweatshirt. For a moment, in the truck, he’d seen a different gunshot wound. A small broken face. Why couldn’t his little girl heal like the woman standing in front of him?

“Can you die?” The question seems to catch her off guard, because her big eyes widen even further as she slowly raises her arms to wrap them around herself.

“Everyone can die, even me. I’m just not sure what it would take. I only know what won’t kill me. Have you decided that I deserve to die?” She’s too small. Short and thin, small delicate features…she pulled the trigger without hesitation. She admitted to killing people, but she didn’t have a choice. She’s not a killer. Not like he is.

“No. What do you want from me, princess? What’s the point of all this?” She’s gotten what she wants. She’s been around him long enough to be able to feel her own emotions, and that should be good enough for her.

“You’ve given me something that I’ve been missing for a very long time, and I owe you for that. I want to stay by your side, for as long as you’ll let me. I made that clear yesterday. At least, I thought I did.” Her hands are propped on her hips now, and she bends down just the smallest bit to meet his eyes.

“My side is about to get very messy. You sure you’re up for that?” If everything that she’s said is true, and he’s starting to think it is, then she should be running in the opposite direction. She’s already lived through hell, so why follow him into another one?

“I’ll let you know at the end of the week.” Her smile puts some color in her cheeks, but she’s still too pale.

“Make sure your stuff is packed tonight. We’re leaving at first light.” The chair creaks as he stands up, and she has to tip her head back to look up at him.

“Where to, boss?” He raises a brow at the title, but she just grins up at him.

“Florida.” One slim eyebrow rises, and she shrugs when he doesn’t say anything else. Her head bobs a little before she turns on her toes and moves over to where her bag is, and he walks over to the kitchen to make them something simple for dinner. He’ll pack his things afterwards, because they’ve got a long drive ahead of them tomorrow.




“This smells like a heart attack.” Pale eyes narrow at the food sitting in front of her, and Frank watches the way that her small nose wrinkles up as the thick smell of cooking grease fills the air around them. One slim finger pokes at the shiny piece of bread, and she makes a quiet sound in the back of her throat at the grease there.

“Not good enough for you, princess?” Those eyes turn up to him in a glare, but he just raises a brow at the look before taking a pointed bite of his own burger. It tastes like any other diner lunch special; grease as the primary source of flavor, slightly overcooked meat and dripping cheese, and bread that’s a little tough to chew.

“I know I can’t actually clog my arteries, but I feel like eating this will be tempting fate. Look at it, Castle. It’s sitting in a literal puddle of grease. Why did I let you order for me?” She hadn’t really let him; when their waitress walked up, Frank quickly ordered for them both of them while pale blue eyes just watched him in amusement. He knows she was amused too, because she kept smiling until their food arrived.

“You need to eat. People are gonna think I’m starvin’ you,” he says from around his next bite. Her eyes narrow so much that she’s squinting at him, but she looks down right before her eyes widen. He can still see her face well enough to recognize her expression. Surprise. She shouldn’t be. She woke up this morning with a smile and followed him out to the truck with her bags after a quick breakfast, which means that she’s sticking with him. She wants to stay with him, and he’s not stopping her. Which means, in some twisted way, that she’s now his responsibility.

“You are a man of hidden depths,” she grumbles before finally picking up her burger.

“And you look like a strong wind could blow you over. Eat.” A few sounds slip out of her, something contradictory, but she keeps eating and doesn’t argue. Good. They need to get back on the road soon, and he’s not in the mood to argue with his…companion? Newest thorn in his side? Sidekick?

“Whatever you’re thinking, stop it.” When he raises a brow at her in question, she rolls her eyes and picks up her sweet tea. “You feel way too responsible and amused. It’s a scary combination, and it’s making me a little uncomfortable. So cut it out and eat.”

“You’re not the boss of me.” That gets her to laugh, loud even in the crowded diner, and he looks away from the string of cheese hanging down her chin. Thorn seems to work best.


“Oh, come on, Castle! We’re only, what, a few hours away from Florida? Why stop now?” Dani asks even as she watches the row of motel rooms come closer. The sign had been flickering but definitely promising vacancies, and this place looks nice enough. (Translation: she’s slept in worse places.)

“It’s late. We need to recharge before getting into the city. We’re going to be busy tomorrow.” To be fair, Frank has been driving since six this morning. Yeah, they made a quick stop for lunch, but he’s been driving for pretty much sixteen hours straight. He could use a break, and she’s not going to suggest driving. She’s good at driving, but Frank has trust issues. There’s no way he’s going to sleep with her in control of the vehicle, and she understands that.

“Right. Tomorrow is all about scoping out the new environment and finding a safe place to bunk down. Got it. Want me to get us a room?” The truck is pulled up in front of the office, parked, and Frank shifts around in his seat. Dani looks over just in time to see him tossing something her way, and she looks down at her lap. Frank’s wallet. “It’s so average. I thought you’d at least have a chain or something. I’m a little disappointed.”

“Go get us some beds,” Frank grunts and then slouches in his seat. Dani tightens her fingers around the plain brown leather wallet, opens her door, and slides out of the truck. The pavement is uneven underneath her feet, and a bell above the office door makes a quiet noise as she walks inside.

Ten minutes later, the two of them are checked in. The guy behind the counter had looked eighty and barely paid her any attention as she asked for a room with two beds; he just took her money and told her to be out before ten. She relays the information to Frank after telling him the room number, and he parks right in front of their room. They each take one bag into their room, and Dani drops her bag on the bed farthest from the door. She quickly digs into her bag for some pajamas and her toiletries, and she grins over at Frank before darting into the bathroom. He’d been sitting on the end of his bed, and he looks tired. Some sleep will be good for him.

After she peels her clothes off, she takes a moment to just enjoy the feeling of air against her skin. It’s cool in the motel room, from the air conditioner that’s working in overdrive, and she spins around once while she’s naked just to feel the cold air wrapping around her. Then she’s pulling on clean clothes to sleep in that will keep her covered up. A pair of fuzzy blue socks. Black sweatpants. White sweatshirt. Once she’s completely covered, she digs through her small toiletries bag for her toothbrush and toothpaste. They hit up a drive-thru for dinner, which meant more greasy food, and her teeth feel fuzzy. She feels unclean, which means it’s time to brush her teeth.

She’s rinsing her mouth out when the first image hits her, right between the eyes. Dead bodies, three. Two much smaller. His stomach is torn open, and her face is missing. Dani shakes her head, feels water streaking across her cheeks and dripping down her chin. Her hands brace against the sink as her head pounds, a calm beat at the same pace as her heartbeat, and she pushes a breath out through her nose. She has many bloody memories, but that’s none of them. Still, there’s something familiar about the scene. Something that she should understand.

The motel towels are thin and rough, and she quickly rubs the fabric across the bottom half of her face. She packs up her bag and picks up her dirty clothes, and she’s just turned towards the closed bathroom door when another image hits her. Lying down, an unrecognizable face hovering above. Speaking. Everyone’s gone. Shot. Dani comes back to herself and realizes that her things are on the floor, because her fingers are pulling at fistfuls of her hair. Her head hurts, sharp and twisting pains, and she’s starting to breathe harder. She thinks about calling out to Frank, because something is clearly not right, but more images hit her before she can. Clearer images.

“He was shot in the head!” one of the nurses is whispering. That explains the pain, the whiteness all around, the smell. Hospital. Three dead bodies. Maria, holes in her neck and chest. Frank Jr., shots to the abdomen. Lisa, her face is gone. There’s a pain deep inside, something unrelenting, and a roaring sound.

The hospital and park fades away. The girl leans out of the window, bright smile in the sunshine, and raises the gun. Bang. The face changes. Becomes younger and rounder, a high pitched laugh, before changing back. Alive. The girl is alive, just not the right one.

“Frank,” Dani gasps as her vision returns. She can see the chipped green paint on the bathroom door, and her stomach rolls as she realizes she was seeing things through Frank’s eyes. It’s more than that though; she didn’t just see memories, she could feel him and hear him. Hear what he was thinking in those moments. She can feel him now, on the other side of the bathroom door. All those controlled emotions that she’s been sitting next to all day are gone, replaced by something ugly and angry. She feels her own twisted emotions alongside his as she processes everything she’s seen, lets it all click together, and then her vision is blurring as she claws at the doorknob.


He hears the sink start after the pipes make a little bit of noise and then there’s quiet humming to mix with the sound of bristles on teeth. Perfect, straight white teeth. Every time she smiled today, Frank thought about her wide grin as she hung out the window. Kept waiting for her to jump again and go for his gun. Now, as he listens to her quiet sounds as she brushes her teeth, he thinks back to before. Parts of that day are still a blur, but some things are too clear. Seeing them that day, his family, that’s clear. He can’t forget that. Still remembers waking up in the hospital and not knowing that they were gone; he’d just felt a sharp pain in his head but couldn’t remember why. Couldn’t remember getting shot in the head.

“I’m alive, after taking a bullet to the brain. Can you do that?”

That’s what she asked him, after pulling that little stunt of hers. His response was that he’d never shot himself in the head, not like she just had, and it wasn’t a complete lie. It just wasn’t the truth. He took a bullet to the brain and lived, but his little girl didn’t. She did. She’s alive just one room over and brushing her teeth, and he’s sitting on the end of a bed listening to her. It ain’t right. It doesn’t make sense. Even before their deaths, Frank wasn’t a good person. Not really. He was just a person. So why did he get to survive? Why did she?

The yowl of some kind of dying animal pulls him out of his thoughts, because it sounds like the damn thing is in the room with him. He quickly looks around but doesn’t see anything, but the sound is getting louder. The bathroom door is rattling, shaking like it’s about to blow apart, and then the knob finally turns. He doesn’t even get a good look at her before she’s across the room and standing in front of him, and he goes completely still as she drops to her knees at his feet. The sound she’s making has turned into wet sobbing, and she’s shaking all over as she crushes her arms around Frank’s waist and pushes her wet face against his stomach.

“The hell’s wrong with you?” he grits out. For such a little thing, she’s got a really strong grip. Her fingers are bunched up in the back of his shirt, because he pulled his jacket and some of his weapons off after she went into the bathroom, and her arms are tight around his ribcage.

“I wasn’t thinking. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” It’s hard to hear her over the sobbing, but she doesn’t pull back to speak. He can feel her tears through his shirt now, and his whole body is vibrating along with her shaking even though he’s got his legs spread wide so that they’re not touching her.

“You wanna be more specific there, princess?” He listens to her sniffle, twice, before she rubs her face against his shirt and then looks up. Her pale eyes are wide and a little bloodshot, her pale cheeks are flushed and drenched, and she’s still steadily crying as she looks up at him.

“I knew what happened, because I heard you at the graveyard. And I followed everything, after. I heard the story, so I knew. How could I say something so stupid? Fuck, Castle, why didn’t you say something?” He must look confused, because her face twists with fresh pain as she moves her right arm up and around to his front. Her sweatshirt is pulled down over her hand, but he can still feel her fingertips pressing against his temple.

“You just now remembering that you’re not the only one that can—” Before he finishes, the hand on his temple moves down to cover his mouth. He feels his eyes widen in surprise, but she doesn’t see it because she’s crying against his stomach again. Only one side of her face is pressed against him now, so he can hear her when she starts talking again.

“Not just you, and you’re right. You’re right, okay? The wrong girl is alive.” Something cold runs through him at the words, and she shivers against him. “I saw it, I don’t know how or why, but I saw it. Saw the park. You in the hospital. Me hanging out the window. It’s like I was you. I could feel you, hear you…fully immersive and scary as hell. How do I get that out of my head? How do you?”

“I don’t.” What the hell is going on with her now? She saw everything? Just like that? She curls up tighter against him now that she’s holding onto the back of his shirt with both hands again, and she’s still crying steadily. Slowly. Hiccoughing quietly every now and then.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers again. Her nearly white hair is frizzy where it’s rubbed against his shirt, and the back of her hair looks nearly flat in comparison. Under her hair, there’s a stark black mark on the back of her neck. Thick black lines. A tattoo. LVIII. He moves one hand to the base of her neck, right under the collar of the sweatshirt so that he’s not touching skin, and listens to the pained sound she makes.

“The waterworks. Those for me or for you?” Frank’s always grieving. It never really stops, but it’s usually buried deep. Maybe she can feel it more after what she saw, or maybe she can feel more because of how close she is. He doesn’t know how any of it works.

“If I say both, does that sound like a cop out?” Her voice is quiet and rough, but she doesn’t pull away. If anything, she pushes up against his hand and clings to him tighter. Too much tighter and she might break one of his ribs.

“Not if it’s true.” The laugh that comes out of her is wet and low, rusty, and he feels her cheek nuzzle against the fabric of his shirt.

“Honesty, I promised. I just need a minute. Can I have a minute?” He looks down into her wide eyes and knows that a normal response to seeing a woman crying is to offer comfort. He’s not exactly the comforting type, never really has been and really isn’t now, but he’s not going to turn her away. Not when stray tears are still tracking down her cheeks and fingers are pressing into his back hard enough to bruise.

“Yeah, princess, I’ll give you a minute.” He feels the tremor that starts at the top of her shoulders, because he still has one hand pressed against her, and it works its way through the rest of her body as she completely falls apart again. Like she was waiting for his permission. So he brings his other hand up to join the first on her back and holds her properly, and he doesn’t fight when she slowly starts to rock them. Just lets her get it all out, until she’s sagging against him.

“I think I’m going to lay down,” she says quietly as she pulls away from him. She keeps her face turned downwards as she rises to her feet, and she shuffles over to her bed. She doesn’t even bother moving her bag off the bed, just slips under the thin blanket with her back to him.

He looks down as he thinks about going into the bathroom to get ready for bed, and he sees the large dark mark against his gray tee shirt. From all the crying. After another moment of thinking, he falls back against the bed. Just falls back and scoots up enough so that his legs aren’t hanging off the edge. The room sounds almost too quiet now, but he doesn’t move. He closes his eyes, empties his mind, and gets some sleep. He’s got a feeling that he’s going to need it.


Dani holds still as she hears Frank start to move around, and she makes sure her breathing stays even as he gets out of bed. She listens to his footsteps fade and then to the bathroom door as it closes, and she rubs her covered hands against her cheeks. Even now, hours later, her eyes still feel raw and sensitive. There’s no point in just lying around though. Frank has plans for today, and they need to talk before they leave. So she presses her palms flat against the bed and pushes herself into a sitting position. She’s sitting the same way when Frank comes out of the bathroom several minutes later, and she glances down at his hands. He’s holding his own bag in his right hand, and her smaller toiletries bag is in his other hand.

“Did you get any sleep?” Frank asks her after tossing her toiletries bag onto her bed.

“No.” He looks confused, and he feels confused too. She raises her arms so that she can cross them under her chest, but she’s really just trying to hold herself together. “I was scared I’d see something again.”

“About that.” She stays quiet while Frank looks down at his bag, which is now sitting at the foot of his bed, but he doesn’t say anything else.

“What?” It’s asked after her patience starts to wear off, and Frank’s dark eyes flick over towards her.

“That’s never happened before?”

“Never. I’ve been free for over twenty years, and nothing like that has ever happened. It’s new.” The last part is whispered, and she digs her fingers against her ribs.

“You can’t control it?” She shakes her head, three times quickly, and Frank just huffs quietly. Then he stays quiet.

“Are you mad? That I saw…that?” The park, the hospital…those memories are so much more than just something personal. It’d be like if someone was able to see her in that place, where they changed her. To see the moment when her whole world changed and shifted into something new and unrecognizable. No one should be able to see things like that.

“I’m guessing you didn’t want to see any of it. Am I, right? Yeah, I’m right. I’m not going to get mad over something you can’t control.”

“But I saw what happened to your family! I felt it! I wasn’t just some bystander watching everything, I was you! Everything you experienced, I experienced! I can still feel it!” She knows she shouldn’t be shouting, shouting is a good way to get caught, but she can’t help it. Doesn’t he understand? “I shouldn’t have been able to do something like that! I’m an empath, Castle! I feel emotions, and that’s it! If something new was going to happen, it would have already happened before now! How are you not freaking out about this?!”

“What good would that do?! Huh?!” he yells back at her. She’s not expecting the amount of anger that comes rolling off of him, and it makes her flinch. At the small movement, Frank rubs a hand over his face and head. Then he walks towards her and lowers himself to his knees at her bedside, which puts them on eye level.

“There’s not supposed to be anything new,” she whispers. Frank’s eyes look even darker up close, and there’s a part of her that wants to reach out to him. She can feel his anger though, and she knows that touching him would only hurt her.

“You also said that being able to feel your own emotions was new. Maybe that was the trigger for whatever happened last night.” She didn’t think of that. Two decades of numbness. Now, after only a few days in Frank’s constant presence, she’s experienced something new. He might be right.

“I don’t want it to happen again.” She lost herself, just for a moment, and she doesn’t like losing control. It’s dangerous. What if she doesn’t come back?

“Yeah, well, I’m not big on it either. You think I like knowing that you saw that?” She shakes her head, and Frank sighs. “If you leave, it might never happen again.”

“I’m not leaving unless you want me to, Castle. Besides, it might keep happening now no matter what. So are you telling me to leave?” Frank slowly gets to his feet, and she tips her head back so that she can keep looking at him.

“By my count, we still have three days together before I have to decide. Get ready to move out, princess.” She hates that nickname, but hearing it is a sort of relief. She grins up at him and then keeps smiling when he rolls his eyes at her, and she quickly pushes the sheet off of her. She’s still worried about what might happen, but she’s not leaving Frank. Not until he tells her to.


“Miami is absolutely beautiful, so why are you only looking at places that look like they should be condemned for us to live in?” Dani asks and looks over at Frank. His eyes are on the road, which is for the best, and he taps his thumb across the steering wheel.

“We’re not living on the beach,” he says and makes a turn. They’ve looked at eight buildings already, and all of them had been away from the beach. She’s not asking for much. Not really.

“I know you want to stay under the radar or whatever, but living on the beach would totally be under the radar! Come on, who would suspect Frank Castle of living on the beach? We can even buy you some bright flowery shirts. No one would believe that a man in a bright flowery shirt was Frank Castle!” Frank just grunts and continues driving, still far away from any pretty beaches, and Dani sighs as she slumps back in her seat.

“You’re no fun, Castle.”

“We’re not here for fun,” he reminds her. Like she needs reminding?

“No, we’re here for you to kill bad guys. I both acknowledge and accept that. That being said, I’m still going to the beach before we leave.” Frank looks over at her for just a second before focusing his attention back on the road, and Dani grins as she feels his confusion. He’s surprised, probably because she has no problem admitting who he is. He’s a killer, and she’s still not going anywhere.

“Won’t you just burn?” She does have a pale complexion, and she does burn easily in sunlight. Really easily.

“Yep, but my healing will take care of the sunburn,” she says through a grin. Frank doesn’t say anything, so she slumps against the seat and closes her eyes. She’s still picturing beautiful sandy beaches twenty minutes later when the truck comes to a stop, and she slowly peeks one eye open. Yep, another run down looking apartment building.

“Stay here while I look around.” He said the same thing at the last eight buildings, and she did as he asked. She doesn’t need to look around, not until Frank actually picks somewhere for them to bunker down during the duration of their stay.

Ten minutes after Frank leaves, Dani opens the passenger door and then scrambles up onto the hood of the truck. It’s hot because it’s been running and from the harsh sunlight, but she likes the way it feels through her clothes. It’s hot in Miami, much hotter than it was in New York, so she might not be able to get away with wearing clothes that completely cover her. Not if she wants to blend in it. She’s done it before, walked around with her arms and legs on display, but it makes things a little more difficult for her.

Twenty minutes after Frank leaves, Dani raises her arm and starts tracing shapes in the fluffy white clouds. Her goal is to find something ridiculous to tell Frank about; he won’t laugh like her grandfather used to when she was little, but she might get something resembling a smile out of him. Possibly. Stranger things have happened. She’s still tracing shapes when she feels someone getting closer. Curiosity. Nervous. A small tendril of fear. She holds still as the person comes even closer, all the way up to the truck, but she doesn’t move until the person speaks.

“Are-Are you okay?” A guy, and his tone is low. She rolls her head across the hot metal and squints her eyes open. Average height, skinny, shaggy brown hair around his face, and blue eyes.

“Yes, I’m perfectly fine. Are you okay?” Confusion joins the swirl of emotions inside him, and Dani looks at the piercings in the man’s face. Those are interesting, and must have hurt.

“I’m not the one laying on a truck.” When she raises her brow, he looks down and scuffs his shoe against the dirt. “Ma’am.”

“I wanted to look at the clouds. See that one there? Kind of looks like a tractor.” She points to a cloud on her far left and then watches as the guy turns around to look too.

“It kind of does,” he agrees quietly. Anger, frustration…excitement. Things must have gone Frank’s way. It’s about time. The guy is turning back towards her when she realizes that Frank is almost to the truck, and she can actually see the blood draining out of the guy’s face as he notices Frank. That’s not good. He might faint.

“And who’s this, darlin’?” Frank doesn’t sound like Frank. His tone is lighter than she’s used to, and what’s with calling her darlin’ in that tone of voice?

“We haven’t made it that far. I’m Dani, and this is—”

“Francis Glass, call me Frank.” She’s glad he stepped in, because she wasn’t sure what to call him, but Francis?

“Nice to meet you. I should, um, be going,” the guy says and gives an awkward wave before quickly stumbling off. She didn’t even get his name first. Once he’s out of sight, she rolls her head to the opposite side so she can look at Frank.

“You sound too jovial,” she accuses. Frank turns his scowl down on her, and that’s more like the ruthless killer she’s been living with the past few days.

“I’m a newly married man. Why wouldn’t I be jovial?” Dani feels her jaw become loose, but it doesn’t last long. Her jaw snaps closed with a quiet click, and she pushes herself up into a sitting position.

“Married?” Her voice is higher than usual, sounds a little strangled actually, and Frank feels…almost nervous.

“We don’t look nothing alike, so calling you my sister wouldn’t work. People don’t look too closely at married couples.”

“You could have asked me first!” Married? Her and Frank? Nothing good can come from this kind of lie, but she’s not going to give Frank too much grief for his decision. Pretending will be harder for him than it is for her. “So we’re staying here then?”

“Yeah,” Frank says without looking at her. He’s looking down at the ground, with both hands braced against the hood of the truck. He’s got some long nights ahead of him, taking on criminals, and she’s not going to make this any harder on him.

“Well, let’s go take a look around and make a list of things we’ll need. Oh! Do I get to wear a ring? With fake diamonds?” Frank’s head snaps up at that, and she grins when his eyes meet hers. “Don’t give me that look, Castle. If you want it, you put a ring on it. Even a fake ring.”

“Won’t a fake ring turn your finger green?” That’s what he’s worried about? Of all the things he could be worried about, he’s choosing to worry about her finger turning colors?

“Little bit of color never hurt anyone,” she shrugs. Frank’s cheek twitches, like he wants to smile, but he just shakes his head instead.

“Get down so we can go make a list. We’re wastin’ daylight,” Frank says and knocks his knuckles against the hood a few times. Dani slides off the hood so that she’s standing next to him, and she makes sure that the long sleeve of her thin shirt is covering her hand before reaching out. When Frank just stands still looking at her hand, Dani sighs and reaches for him. Her covered palm slides against his, and she curls her fingers around his hand.

“Just a hand, Castle. It ain’t gonna bite,” she says as she looks up at him. He looks down at her, first at where they’re holding hands and then up into her eyes. She’d say that he looks afraid, but she can’t feel any fear coming off of him. He nods without breaking eye contact and then starts walking, pulling her along behind him. Dani smiles at his back before hurrying her steps to catch up to him, and they walk side by side towards their new home.