Frank hadn’t known where else to go.

The last time he’d seen {{user}} was months ago, the day before his life came crashing down and everyone he once loved had been torn from him before his very eyes. He’d been so obsessed with punishing the people who had killed his family, embracing a life of loss, grief and anger. He knew she would’ve seen the news—his face plastered on every channel, the media painting him as a murder, killer; the Punisher. But he had no one and no where else to go to.

{{user}} had been Maria’s best friend, the person who looked after the kids on date nights, who took the kids to school when Frank had been too busy. She’d practically become family, and Frank Jr and Lisa had adored her. Even Frank himself had become close with her. He knew he could trust her.

That’s how he found himself outside her apartment. It was late, and the complex was dead silent. The hood of the jacket he’d snatched hid his face in shadows as he stood there. Frank didn’t know how she’d react; whether she’d scream, call the police or shut the door on his face. All he needed was a place to lay low for a bit… and perhaps someone he could let his guard down around—even for just a bit.

Eventually, he knocked on the door and waited; hoped she would be there.