Peace Of Mind (September-October 1983)

Lauren just looked at her. "I think it would be safe, now. Isabella, we do need to get our stories straight. You killed agents. We need to figure out how we’re going to spin this. Just because you were right in what you did doesn’t mean they won’t scuttle you, me, Frank, everyone involved. The CIA does not look at these kinds of things with gray colored glasses. It’s either good for them or bad for them. If it’s bad for them you and I won’t be around long enough to wonder about it. If it’s good for them then we have alot of work to do,” she said and the two of them worked long into the night.

The next morning sun poked out of the curtains in her room. She could smell coffee and bacon and something sweet that wafted up from the kitchen downstairs. She could hear movement and people talking as well downstairs. Her alarm clock on her nightstand said it was 10:15am.

Isabella didn't know what time it was when she got back to her parent's house. She had just gone straight upstairs and collapsed onto her bed. She didn't even bother undressing. She had immediately fallen into a deep sleep. She could rest more easily now knowing that Victor, Thomas, and Alan were all dead.

It was the smell of cooking bacon that hit her nose first. Followed by the slightly bitter smell of coffee brewing. She slowly opened her eyes and glanced over at the alarm clock and saw that it was past 10 a.m. She got up and washed her face and got changed before heading downstairs to see what was going on.

Isabella had glanced in the room next to hers and had seen that Frank wasn’t in bed. She knew that was a good sign for his recovery. She walked into the dining room and found her parents, Luca, and Frank sitting together at the table. Her mother had made pancakes, bacon, blueberry muffins, and coffee. Everyone looked over at her as she walked in.

“We waited for you as long as we could,” her mother said as she got up to go fix a plate for her. There was a spot next to Frank so she sat down. She poured herself a cup of coffee and put a teaspoon of sugar into it before looking at Frank.

“I’m glad to see you are up and moving about. How are you feeling?”

It was slow going getting out of bed, putting one of her father’s robes on, it did not fit very well, and hobbling down the stairs. No one had expected to see him down there. Anyone else with these kinds of injuries would have been bed ridden for another week if not longer. Frank needed to move. To much idleness, to much time spent thinking was something he didn’t want to do. Excessive thinking led to thoughts he would rather leave behind him even though his dreams never cooperated. Isabella had helped with that. Warm, passionate nights with her settled his mind and his dreams more often then not. She had a way of growing on him when he had just assumed that they’d never really be together. What she did and what he did were at odds with one another. That much was certain.

“Like shit,” Frank said though his usual ‘colorful’ explanations garnered the ire of her parents. Her father tilted the paper he was reading to give Frank a stern look though Frank did not seem to see it. Or at the very least, not care that they did not approve of his language. “But I couldn’t be in that bed any longer,” he said. “Her mother turned with a spatula in her hand. “Oh, its not comfortable?” She asked. “No, its fine, I just need to be doing something, I don’t like being idle for to long,” he explained as he looked at her. His eyes scrutinized her appearance.

“So you didn’t come back after you left...where did you go? Did you make contact with Lauren? You look exhausted,” he said levelly as if he knew something had happened but wouldn’t say anything outright in front of her family.

Isabella knew it was just going to take time for Frank to heal. She and Lauren had agreed that she would remain at her parent’s house for a while longer while she got everything sorted out. Then, she would be able to return home. Perhaps by then Frank would be healed enough to be moved there.

She took a long sip of her coffee and then looked at Frank again. She leaned over towards him and whispered in his ear.

“Lauren was being held hostage by Victor. Renee, Alonzo and I went to where she was being held and I killed him.”

Frank managed his shock fairly well though he had drank too much of the hot coffee and hissed. “Too hot,” He murmured and blew on his coffee though she would see his cheeks color. No one seemed to notice and Luca was talking with his mother. Frank wanted to berate her for being an idiot to take on something like that but he reminded himself who she really was. Not just a cop, an agent of the CIA. His initial outrage quickly morphed into something different. A feeling that he hadn’t felt in a long time. Isabella had taken out the last vestiges of those that were responsible for killing his family. What he felt for her right then went far past gratitude. Far past like. He had only felt love toward one woman in his life but she was gone and nothing he did would ever replace her. But there was always succession. Who and what came after and that was Isabella. Frank still held his cup but extended the hand that rested on the table a few more inches toward her. ”Thank you Isabella, I owe you one,” He said softly as he looked at her. His body still hurt in many different places but he would have hugged her if he could.

Isabella had never seen the look that suddenly filled Frank’s eyes before. It caused a warmth to spread through her. She saw him move his hand closer to her and she reached out and placed her hand within his as she looked into his eyes. She opened her mouth to say something but before she could her mother walked over with a plate for her. She gave Frank’s hand a squeeze before releasing it.

“Lauren wants us to continue to lay low for a few more days while she takes care of everything.”

“Are you certain you can trust her? If she can sell you out to protect herself, I bet she would.” Frank said in a low tone. Her mother handed him his plate. It was enough food for two people but Frank was used to this. He grew up in an Itslian family.

“Thank you Mrs. Corsetti,” he said kindly and she flashed him a smile though a brief one. Her parents were not so keen on Frank and he didnt blame them. He risked them all, well he and Isabella did. Frank was hungry though and set to with a will.

Later that afternoon he lounged on the large living room couch with Isabella. Well he slept with his head on her lap. The TV was on and they were watching the news.

“Alan Hickman, a contender for the Democratic Senate seat here in New York was found dead in an office building in Queens along with Thomas Redding a former Agent with the CIA as well as 8 other CIA agents. The murders are reported to be linked to the Russian mob in retaliation for the CIA killing of one of their top level bosses Alexander Federov who was shot and killed 2 weeks ago by CIA agents as they attempted to serve a warrant for his arrest along with other high level known russian criminals. Tune in at 11 as the investigation continues”

Over the next few days Isabella and Frank remained at her parent's house. Victor's death was also linked to the Russian mob and Frank Castle was still presumed to be dead. Lauren was rumored to be in line for the Deputy Director position that Victor's death had opened up. Lauren finally gave Isabella the approval to return to her apartment. Frank was still recovering, but was well enough to not need constant monitoring from her parents so he went with her. She knew her parents didn't approve, but she didn't care. She was extremely grateful to her parents for all they had done for her, but she was going to live her own life.

After a few days of leave, Isabella returned to work. Frank was laying low at her apartment for the time being, but she knew that once he was fully recovered he would probably leave. That night she got home late. She was exhausted from all the paperwork she was forced to deal with at work and hungry. As she neared her apartment door she could smell something that made her mouth water. She walked in and was surprised to find Frank in the kitchen cooking. She closed the door and locked it behind her and then took off her coat. She hung it up on the coat rack and then walked over to him with a smile.

"Whatever you're making smells delicious."

Frank appreciated everything Isabella’s parents did for him but he was beyond glad when they went back to her apartment. He had had enough of the disapproving looks and tolerant sighs to last a lifetime. In the news the CIA, he suspected Lauren mostly, had begun a large media spin on the deaths among their ranks. Now the entire government were on a Russian Mobster witch hunt which, for the most part, served Frank’s purposes just fine.

Isabella’s apartment was...actually quite nice. He doubted she could afford it herself on an agent’s salary but he never said anything about that. Each day that passed he grew better and stronger. He was not 100% but he knew he was headed in the right direction. Tonight he felt like celebrating and he didn’t know of any better way than to make a real Italian meal for Isabella. She didn’t have a pasta maker but she had everything else he needed and he knew a place that sold great pasta. He bought tomatoes paste, tomatoes, pasta, some fresh herbs and fresh parmesan and mozzarella cheese and a nice red wine. When he got home from the store he rolled up his sleeves and got to work.

“I made meatballs and Italin sausage in marinara,” he said as he winked at her. “Hungry? I figured it was about time this place had some real Italian food being cooked in it,” he said poking fun at her. He had already poured two glasses of wine so they could breathe. The marinara had been simmering for some time and it did smell good. He had fresh Italian bread, nice and crusty and he tore off a piece, dipped it into the sauce and brought her one of the glasses of wine as she set down her things on the counter. He carefully fed her the bread, kissed her lips then gave her the glass. “Now that’s how this Italian says Ciao,” he said with a smile. The nearby table was already set and there were even fresh wild flowers and a candle burning.

Isabella laughed and rolled her eyes at Frank's jab. "Keep making fun of my cooking and I won't be making that sauce that you loved so much again," she teased with a smile. The smells in the kitchen actually made her mouth water. She took the piece of sauce soaked bread that Frank fed to her and was surprised at how good it was. She grinned as she kissed him back and took the glass of wine he had poured for her.

She looked at the set table and was rather overwhelmed by everything. Frank didn't really seem outwardly like the type to do things like this. However, he was showing a side of himself to her that she quite liked. "So, did your mother teach you how to cook?"

Frank chuckled. “Nah, My nanna gave me all of her recipes,” He said as he pointed to his head. “And their all up here just like they were for her,” he said as he smiled at Isabella. “I haven’t put on the pasta yet, why not go get comfortable and it’ll be ready when you come back,” he suggested. Frank was dressed in a thick, gray short sleeve shirt, kind of like a sweater. He had on blue jeans and white socks but he smelled as if he had showered recently. When she returned the pasta had just hit the plates and he dressed the dish with a bit of olive oil and grated cheese. “Now that’s how it’s done,” he said. There was a small salad in a bowl as well but it was simple with a simple, homemade oil dressing. He sat after she did and tore off a piece of bread and took a bite. He nodded appreciatively.

Isabella went back and changed into some more comfortable clothes, including her Harvard University sweatshirt. She took a seat and couldn't help but smile at Frank. She twirled the pasta onto her fork and took a bite. "This is delicious." She took a sip of her wine and then glanced at him. "I've never had a man cook dinner for me before. I mean, Noah would cook with me...but I never came home to a fully prepared dinner."

“Well then consider yourself spoiled,” he said as he took a sip of wine. “I’ve been living on cold cans of beans, Burger King and spam so this is a definite upgrade...especially the company,” He said with a smile. “My family, my ma and pa and aunts, uncles, and cousins used to get together about once a month for a huge meal. We either sat or stood depending on when you got to the table and everyone talked to everyone,” He said recalling his past. “That strong sense of...family was what made me consider becoming a priest,” he said as he twirked his dark eyebrows at her.

Isabella loved hearing about Frank's family. He very rarely spoke about things that were so personal and she enjoyed the fact that he felt comfortable enough opening up to her like this. She tore off a piece of bread and dipped it in the sauce and popped it into her mouth. "Well, you would have had to have taken a vow of celibacy and I'm not sure how well you would have done with that...just based on my experiences with you," she added with a grin.

Frank smiled back at her and shrugged. “When you see the world this bent...I wanted to try and make it better. I no longer have such a close relationship with God but, you know how it is,” he said trying not to take the conversation to ‘unpleasant’ places. “So are you going to keep it all a secret, what happened at work? Did you talk to Lauren? Lay it on me lady,” he asked as he ate a fork full of pasta.

Isabella twirled some more pasta onto her fork and ate it. She then picked up her napkin and dabbed at her mouth before placing the napkin back on her lap. She leaned back a bit in her chair and looked at him. "Yes, Lauren and I have talked...quite a bit actually. We both have our stories straight and it appears that everyone is believes it was the Russian mob. Because there are now several higher up positions open it appears that Lauren and I are both going to be promoted. The office has been fully cleansed and now we can finally move on."

“Well that alone is a reason to celebrate,” he said and leaned his glass toward hers but noticed she had drank hers. He chuckled and poured her more wine. After he set the bottle down he clinked her glass.

“You definitely deserve it Isabella,” he said. “And...how are you...dealing?” He asked and hoped she knew what he was talking about. She had been sleeping with him and he had not detected her having nightmares but there was a change in her. He had seen that look before. Isabella had killed several people in the past few days and he was concerned about her.

Isabella wasn't entirely sure how to answer Frank's question. She couldn't lie to him. He already knew that she wasn't fully alright. She was handling her mental state quietly. She didn't want to worry him, or Lauren. Women in the field they were in couldn't show weakness so she just buried it inside herself.

"I...I'll be alright. I mean those men all deserved what they got, but it's still difficult, you know? In the moment I had to just act, but now my mind has had time to absorb and process everything that occurred. I'll be fine though."

The moment of silence between them stretched for a few moments. They were looking into one another’s eyes and she knew Frank did know. Frank did have a conscience, but that conscience survived on the belief that what he did was right. That what he did helped innocent people and brought justice to an otherwise chaotic world, one criminal at a time. The theft part was just necessity. He stole from criminals and used that money to buy more equipment to continue. Now though, as he looked into Isabella’s large, dark eyes. Eyes that held a hint of sadness in them, as if killing those men had bothered her even though they deserved it. Not regret, only that it had had to come to that. He wondered if through her he could get the justice he needed. Did he have to keep doing what he was doing? What if he just supported her in what she did?

Thoughts of Maria fluttered into his memory and he knew in his heart that she’d want him to move on. To stop the killing and move onto something better. To have a real life. “I bought some Cannoli at that Italian Market over on Gunther, if you want something sweet later,” he said and he smiled with a smile that promised that she’d have that regardless of the Cannolis. He was still banged up but not enough to stop him from making love to her.

Isabella knew that Frank knew what she was speaking of. Frank was not a heartless killer. He had a heart...and a conscience. She thought back to what Lauren had said to her about Frank. She wondered now if perhaps he would stop being "The Punisher." The men surrounding the death of his wife and children were now all dead. He would sleep knowing that he had avenged their deaths.

Later that night Isabella lay in Frank's arms in her bed. It had been their first time making love since he became injured. He still had to be somewhat careful, but they had made it work. Isabella knew that Frank was not yet asleep. They were just lying quietly in each other's arms. Finally, Isabella broke that silence.

"Frank, I would like for you to move in with me. You can start a new life...with me. Frank Castle is dead...but we can create a new identity for you where you can get a job and live a normal life. I think we could be really happy together."

She couldn’t see him but Frank’s eyes grew large in surprise from what she just said. He did not expect this. And a part of him, maybe more than one part, wanted to continue being ‘The Punisher’. There were other people out there like him being run completely over by criminality, violence and perversion. But the thought of letting Isabella go made his stomach want to do somersaults. In that moment he knew how he felt about her. Something he had been trying to deny up until now. She stroked his arm as he held it over her. She rested her head on the back of his hand and his arm came over her side. She seemed to like sleeping like this though they never woke up that way. They’d normally get to warm and end up with some distance between them. Not always though. Sometimes their need for human touch was more important.

“I love you Isabella, I’m ready to move forward,” He said softly in her ear and kissed her cheek. “But it’s because of my cooking, isn’t it?” he asked and prodded her in jest with his middle.

Now it was Isabella's turn for her eyes to grow wide in surprise. Of all the things she had expected him to say "I love you" was not one of them. Tears of happiness came to her eyes and she smiled as a feeling of warmth spread through her heart. She laughed as he jested that it was because of his cooking that she was asking him to move in with her. She then grew quiet before speaking again.

"I love you too Frank."