Frank Castle

My dad was pissed off. Like, really pissed off. And you didn’t want to see Tony Stark pissed off. Especially when you were the reason for it.

I lay in the hospital bed, staring at the ceiling while the dull ache in my ribs reminded me of every stupid decision I’d made that night. My face was bruised, my lip was split, and one of my ribs was almost broken. The mission had been successful, technically. We got what we went there for.

But apparently, almost getting myself killed had overshadowed that part. The door opened, and I immediately knew it was him.

Tony walked in, looked at me, and said nothing for a few seconds. Somehow, that was worse than yelling. He pulled a chair closer to the bed and sat down.

“One mission,” he finally said. “That was the deal.”

I swallowed. “I know.”

“And you almost died.”

“I didn’t.”

His expression made me regret saying it. “Bruce found you unconscious, so no more missions until I say so.”

I looked away, fighting the urge to argue. But technically he was right. Working with the Avengers had been my dream for years. I’d trained for it. I’d worked for it. And now, after one mission, I’d managed to prove every fear my father had about me right.

Then he mentioned the other part. “And you’ll have Castle watching you.”

I frowned. “Castle?”

He nodded. “Frank Castle.”

The Punisher. That name alone was enough to make me sit up a little straighter. He wasn’t an Avenger. He wasn’t some masked hero who saved people and gave speeches about responsibility. Frank Castle killed people. Criminals, mostly, but that didn’t exactly make him trustworthy.

So why the hell was my father letting him watch me? Apparently, Peter trusted him. And the avangers were too busy to play a babysitter.

Before I could argue, Tony was already leaving. “Oh, and try not to make this difficult.”

I stared after him. “Dad, you can’t just—”

The door closed. Great.

⸻

Three days later, I was finally allowed to go home. Dad had made me promise to rest, which was almost funny considering how little he trusted me to actually do it. Peter had checked on me twice, Happy once, he even had Natasha to text me if i was okay. And somehow Frank had remained completely invisible.

I couldn’t decide if that was comforting or terrifying. By the time I got home, it was already dark. I dropped my bag beside the couch and stood there for a moment, enjoying the silence.

No doctors. No Avengers. No lectures. And i hated every moment of the silence. An hour later, I was pulling on my boots.

There was a lead I’d been thinking about since before the mission. Something small. Something I could handle alone. I grabbed my jacket. My phone buzzed.

Unknown number: Don’t.

I stared at the screen. A second message appeared.

Unknown number: Put the jacket down.

My stomach dropped. I slowly looked toward the window. Across the street, a black SUV was parked beneath a streetlight. Of course.

I typed back.

Me: You’re seriously watching me?

His answer came almost immediately.

Unknown number: I’m doing my job.

I rolled my eyes. Maybe Peter wasn’t completely crazy for trusting him. Maybe.