RUSTY | frank castle

TWENTY SEVEN

It was half past three in the morning.

Sure, she should have been asleep but there was no way in hell that Rusty could sleep right now. With the possibility of going outside crossed out in bright red paint, the emotional bubble of a woman couldn't sleep at all. She couldn't even dream of it, as ironic as it sounds.

The three of them were unfortunate enough to only have one bed in the garage, so Rusty, Frank and David had a rotation of moving from the bed, to the van, and to sleeping on the floor every other night. Rusty and Frank never complained, although David would grumble under his breath about his back due to him not being used to sleeping rough like that. The ex-marines were, though, so it was fine for them. It was almost like home.

Rusty, careful not to wake her two canines who were sound asleep at the end of the bed, stood up and walked down the steps. She walked in the direction of the van, seeing that the door to the back was slighty open.

Ensuring her footsteps were silent, Rusty walked up to the door and opened it more, revealing a sleeping Frank on the floor of the van. Rusty could just about see him with a blanket on his legs and an old pillow under his head.

The woman stepped into the van, her socks deafening the sound of her steps. The van moved under her weight, and within a split second, a gun was faced in her direction, as still as stone.

"It's just me." Rusty whispered almost silently. 

Frank lowered the gun before putting it away under his pillow again. "Sorry."

Rusty stepped in the van silently, leaving the door slightly open behind her. It was hard to breath when the door was closed. Frank lifted the blanket, inviting her to lay down next to him. Rusty did, getting comfortbale on her side, facing him.

After a few seconds of comfortbale silence, Frank whispered, "What's wrong?"

Rusty, sighing lightly, replied: "I can't sleep."

Frank looked at her after adjusting the blanket over them both. He was having trouble falling asleep, too, and their worrying was mutual. They couldn't really know what to do next except act big. They had to stop Lewis. It was now or never. Yet, at half past three in the morning, the two pushed the thought of the kid out of their minds. They looked at each other, barely seeing each other's eyes in the dark.

"Have you slept at all?" Frank asked. His voice was as gruff as ever, the sleep getting to it, making it a little deeper.

Rusty didn't want him to worry any more than he already was. She looked away from his eyes, but soon looked back, missing them. "Not really."

Taking his arm and putting it on Rusty's back, Frank pulled the woman closer to his chest. He hugged her, letting her hear his heartbeat. Frank knew it always comforted her.

The two laid there, Frank kissing the top of Rusty's head every couple of minutes as Rusty drew patterns on his shoulder. It was a while before any of them spoke. They just enjoyed this peace while could; they knew there wouldn't be much of it in the following hours.

"Remember when Lisa and Junior wanted me to come over for a sleepover with the dogs?" Rusty asked, a bashful smile on her face as she remembered that day.

Frank chucked lightly, the sound reverberating in his chest. Rusty could feel it. "They said the dogs would sleep in their beds."

"Yeah." Rusty smiled harder. "There was no way Maria would say yes to that. They would have ended up playing fetch all night."

Frank laughed with Rusty quietly, though his laugh faded to a small smile. Rusty frowned as little at his reaction. "Sorry." She whispered.

"No. No." Frank shook his head. He brushed his fingers gently on Rusty's cheek. "We both miss them."

"Yeah."

Rusty wanted to take back what she said. It was hard for someone to lose a loved one, let alone a whole family. Rusty was used to it, somehow. Losing family to her was a normal thing. Mother dead at birth. Father dead by overdose. Brother dead through illness. The only loved one that was really left (aside from her dogs) was the only unkillable person she knew: Frank Castle.

As the woman looked at him, she felt her stomach stir and her chest tighten. She wanted to scream, or say something, or just swear. Just say 'fuck, what is happening to me?'. Well, she didn't know.

Her skin seemed to zap with electricity where Frank ran his fingers smoothly over her cheek and jaw. He was tracing the shape of her face, maybe to remember it. Maybe the day coming would end with death for one of them. Maybe for both of them. What if that day ended with the death of the whole of New York?

There would be no Frank Castle and Rusty Mallard for real. What would that mean? Would Lewis be caught? Will Curtis lose another limb?

"Rusty." Frank's voice snapped Rusty from her thoughts. "You're over-thinking, you know?"

Rusty sighed. "Sorry."

"Don't apologise. There's nothing to apologise for."

Rusty chuckled at that. She said that a few weeks after they first met, when Frank asked her about her family. Shit, there was a lot of death to talk about.

Turning to lay on his back, Frank brushed his hand up and down Rusty's back. The girl turned to lay her head on Frank's chest, hearing his calm heartbeat clearly. Rusty's fingers were tracing the muscles on his stomach, finding it comforting to keep her mind occupied.

Frank sighed after a while. "What are we gonna do?"

"About Lewis?"

"About everything."

Biting her lip, Rusty thought over their possibilities. "I have no fucking clue, Frank."

"Me, too."

The two chuckled. They shared a lot, and dealing with a bomber was one thing that they had no idea about. They both got basic training, but they had to think strategy with a kid like Lewis.

"He's troubled, irrational." Rusty said. "And I will be too if we don't leave this until later."

Frank smiled to himself. He licked his lips. "Let's talk about something else, okay?"

"Like what?"

"Like us."

Rusty smirked, turning her head to face Frank. "What about us?"

Frank brushed some messy pieces of hair out of Rusty's eyes, taking in her features. He didn't realise how beautiful she was, even in the dark. She had a strong jaw, gentle but fierce-coloured eyes, European-based cheekbones, a perfect nose.

How did I not notice this sooner? How did I not notice her sooner?

"I dunno." Frank watched as Rusty bit her lip with a little smirk playing on her face. "Maybe we'll never see each other again."

"Wow." Rusty said. "Great way to set the scene. Definitely talk about death, poster boy."

Frank chucked, shaking his head. "You know what I mean."

"I know." The woman's playful smirk disappeared as she looked away from Frank's eyes. "I'm just trying not to think about it. I just . . . I just don't want to lose you again."

Frank pulled Rusty into a hug, kissing her head as he heard her breath shudder. "You won't." He whispered. "You won't."

The two killers cuddled close together; Frank running his fingers through Rusty's curly hair and Rusty listening to his heartbeat, they found the desire to sleep again. With their bodies close and legs intertwined, they found the calm darkness of sleep.