SUNSHINE [Frank Castle]

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO - THE CAROUSEL

Charlotte had always hated carousels. There were many reasons, one of which was that she resented the families that got to go on together and the fun they had. The family they had. What was something joyous and fun became a symbol of despair, a reminder of something she'd never have.

This carousel, she knew, would be a reminder of something too. Victory or heartache. Though she suspected she wouldn't be alive for long if it was decided that it would be heartache.

The lights on the carousel were the only thing lighting up the dark night. She could just barely see the two figures going at each other, and the one lying on the ground. Dinah. Damn it.

Charlotte snuck up to the carousel and hopped on, both guns drawn. She walked along the inside, weaving in and out of the painted horses. She heard the two men struggling, and when they came into view, her breath hitched in her throat.

Frank was on the ground and Russo had his gun pointed at him. "Russo," she spoke, her voice a low growl. That got his attention. "Put it down."

She leveled both of her guns at his head, but he wasn't even a little afraid. "Hey, Princess." Frank growled, low and guttural in his throat, and Russo seemed amused by that. "From where I'm standing, you're the one that needs to put the guns down. You shoot me, I'll shoot him."

"You have no idea what I would do for him." Her voice was dangerously low, and calm, too. Her face was, too. Cool. Calculating.

"That's sweet," he mocked, and his eyes were entirely on her, giving Frank an opportunity.

He rolled out of the way and kicked Russo's legs so he lost his balance. Russo fell, but not before turning and firing his gun.

She'd been distracted by Frank and didn't see it coming, but she felt the bullet enter her stomach. She went down like a ton of bricks, one hand dropping one of her guns and immediately reaching for the wound. It came away red.

She felt her skin trying to knit itself back together as best it could, the knock-off super soldier serum they gave her in the Red Room took care of that. But it was still one of the worst places to be shot, and she still needed a hospital.

But she had to get up, had to go, Frank needed her. But she couldn't move, couldn't will her body to go. And so she listened.

Listened as they fought, and as glass shattered. She then held her breath as something smashed repeatedly into the glass, over and over and over, and was dragged slowly over it. Then. . . nothing.

And Frank appeared out of the corner of her eye and knelt down beside her. "Hey. Hey, I've got you. I got you, Sunshine."

She could have cried just at the sight of him. But she felt herself slipping, losing control, and then everything went black.

Charlotte woke up in a pristine white room hooked up to machines. She looked down at herself and saw the white gown she had on, and the white bedsheets draped over her. She let out a groan. The hospital.