A Promise

A/N: I feel like I've been in mourning for months with all the shows getting canceled, so what do I do? Fill this void by writing fanfiction, of course. I'm hoping to write and post several one-shots, missing/extended scenes, etc. Stay tuned, and let me know what you think!

He reaches the rooftop and can hear Red cry out in some sort of grunt that suggests a hit to the head. Yeah, sure, he's on another building, but he's fought the guy up close and personal enough now to know what the vigilante sounds like when he's in pain. And he can tell when someone takes a shot to the skull.

He races across the roof, rifle at the ready, and he's looking through the scope when it happens. Red's got a knee on the ground and is wavering, about to get sliced through. A second earlier and Frank could've put a bullet through the attacker's brain. But he isn't a second earlier. He's right there, staring through his scope as the blade intended for Red sinks itself into a woman's chest. His finger twitches, out of vengeance for the girl, to protect Red from the guy's next swing, but the woman is already taking care of it and the man tumbles away and to the ground. She follows though, falling back farther into Red's arms and now that he's looking at the two of them, he can see. Red's mask is off and even without the glasses Frank knows faces. Never forgets them.

Matt Murdock is the Devil of Hell's Kitchen.

He'd suspected, of course he suspected. Frank's not stupid. The connection between Grotto and Murdock's firm and Daredevil showing up. And Murdock not showing up to court those couple times. Then there was the Catholic thing. Sure, lots of New Yorkers were Catholic, but still. Daredevil ate morality for breakfast and a defense attorney willing to take on him as a client to save the big bad Punisher from the death penalty seemed a pretty good match. And of course the voice. Frank had heard the Devil, heard him mock, heard him beg, heard him try to be downright conversational while chained on a rooftop. He'd had the same conviction in the courtroom during the day as he'd had giving his little speeches at night. But he'd meant what he said. He didn't care who he was. So he never poked at the suspicion. But now, seeing it confirmed through the scope of a rifle, the weight of it felt heavy as it sank into him.

Everybody's lost someone. Doesn't mean you have to do this.

Of course Red's lost someone. Probably several someone's. Guys like them didn't do what they did for no reason.

Frank didn't know who this woman was, or her relationship to Murdock. Romantic? Was she one of the secrets Karen had been saying that Matt kept? There was some sort of love between them, that much was true. You didn't just step in the way of a kill strike like that with no hesitation without that.

Frank swiveled his sights from the pair to the man laid on the roof. It would've been the easiest shot. A few squeezes and he and the rest of the weird band of ninjas would be picked off. But Red deserved this moment with the woman. Deserved to say goodbye without bullets in the background.

Something he never got.

But when the guy got up and started walking away, Frank was ready. He'd given Red his goodbye, and he'd give him his vengeance too. Some distant piece of The Punisher wondered if this would be what would finally do it. If this was Red's one bad day that would push him over to his side of this war. The Devil had already considered going down Punisher's path "just this once". A part of Frank rooted for Murdock to do it. Another, somehow, knew. Hoped.

The Devil didn't have to kill, but that didn't mean Frank had to pull any of his own punches. The first bullet sank into the man trading blows with Red and Murdock paused, glancing back at the falling body. But that was it. With a turn of his head, the Devil just kept walking as Frank fired again. The Punisher knew that march. He'd been doing the same one for weeks. Focused. Singly driven.

But that wasn't all of it. Red was trusting him. Trusting him to make the shots and not accidentally, or purposefully, catch the Devil in his crosshairs. Trusting him to do what he does without question or lecture. They were an entire building apart, but something about this made it feel like they were closer than they'd ever been. Fighting together. This right here, this wasn't Frank's battle. Murdock had soldiered on through Frank's, though. Had helped figure out who was really responsible for the death of his family. Had dragged him out of the Irish's hands, even after he'd bounced a bullet off the kid's head. It was Frank's turn to have Red's back.

He'd never admit it, of course, but, damn did it feel good. Like being back overseas with his fellow soldiers. His brothers. Frank knew he and Red would never work together, not like that. But they'd have each other's backs. And that was enough.

And when Daredevil flings the guy off the side of the building and Frank tells Red that he'll see him around, it isn't a threat.

It's a promise.