Always, Forever Running Back To You

Always, Forever Running Back to You

Post-01x09, Daredevil: Born Again

Frank knocks once, just once, then steps back and glances down the dim, too-quiet hallway. The place is clean and seems safe enough, but it’s not the kind of hotel that has heightened security or anyone who’d notice if something went sideways. Good thing he’s there.

He braces one hand on the doorframe and ducks his head, his other hand curling around his ribs. Something’s cracked in there, for sure, courtesy of those sorry fucking excuses for cops. Bunch of dumbass fanboys. And he’ll deal with them. Soon. But first Frank needs to see Karen. He has things to get off his chest. 

“Karen, it’s me,” he says, his voice rough but quiet. “Open up. Please?”

The lock clicks almost immediately, and the door opens. She’s standing there barefoot, in jeans and a worn Columbia crewneck sweatshirt, her blonde hair still damp from the shower and twisted into a loose bun at the top of her head. 

Her eyes sweep over him, cataloging every cut and bruise that hadn’t been there the day before. They linger on his face, on his left eye that’s purple and swollen.

“You look like shit,” she says, pushing the door wide and stepping back to let him in. There’s no heat behind the words, just a thread of worry and exhaustion. “Been busy?”

Frank huffs a breath, almost laughing because, that’s the understatement of the fucking century. “Yeah, somethin’ like that.” 

Karen turns on her heel and pads back into the room, leaving him to follow. It’s as close to an invitation as he’s going to get. He steps inside, locking the door behind him, and follows her to where she’s sitting on the edge of the bed, sinking down beside her. His body aches from the inside out, but the mattress dips under their weight, and he relaxes — just a little — for the first time since he answered the phone to find her on the other end.