~kingandcastle

[thedevilsworkisneverdone]

For shenanigans.

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[thedevilsworkisneverdone]

[From here]

Something like that. I can hear you outside. I assume you don't need an invitation to come in.

[thedevilsworkisneverdone]

It's chaos, because of course it is. Frank was right, of course, that instead of waiting for them to come, they should get the drop on the task force. They don't have the same methods and Matt knows that there's no talking Frank down off of his ways, just like Castle can't convince him to take a life because it's the easy thing to do. They fight their own ways. Daredevil leaves unconscious men and broken bones and the Punisher leaves corpses. It's always the same. What strikes Matt is how the old instinct to fight against Frank's nature is dimmed. The acceptance of sin is its own kind, he knows, but God never tried to stop Frank Castle.

He circles back to his place, like he knows Frank will after getting separated. Matt's aches catch up to him by the time the adrenaline wears off so by the time he gets onto his rooftop, he's feeling every blow. The patio door remains unlocked and he goes inside to strip off the suit to take in the damage. He tastes coppery blood in his mouth and he spits it into the sink on the way to retrieve the first aid kit. Broken knuckle--again. Rib is probably a hairline fracture. No, make that two. He took a knock to the head that had him seeing stars and that could be a concussion. Shit. Lousy night. He's not sure how much better or worse Frank managed but he remembers the distinct sounds of the silenced rounds and slowing heartbeats, so Frank probably thinks it was all worth it regardless.

He carries the first aid kit out to the kitchen to wait.