Chapter Text
He had spent a lifetime watching. Watching people and landscapes. Families, friends, strangers, coworkers…lovers. He studied how they behaved and how they moved about their tiny little slices of the world.
Today, he watched a lady feed the stray cat that lived outside his apartment building. Every few days she would give the orange and white long-haired cat a slice of lunchmeat or a half of a can of tuna. The way the cat and the lady reacted to each other reminded him of people meeting together on their lunch break; sharing stories and basking in their mutual connection. He envied even that miniscule of a relationship.
God, I’m pathetic sometimes…
After the cat retreated to some corner of its tiny world to take a nap and the lady went about her own business, Dex remembered he had somewhere to be. He had to clock in for his job as Karen Page’s shadow.
Why Karen Page?
Some part of him was still curious about her; another, much larger and important part of him wanted what she was almost willing and capable of giving to two men just as messed up as him. Patience, empathy, compassion, friendship…love.
Dex had seen it. They way she looked at Frank Castle and Matt Murdock. The glow in her luminous blue eyes. She knew how they felt. She knew what they needed and she gave it to them. Embraces, trusting glances, and partnership on missions. She held Frank and Matt together and they never had to ask her to do it. Karen did what she did out of some sort of unconditional love. And Dex wanted that more than anything.
He wanted to belong to someone. Most especially, Dex wanted to belong to Karen. He wanted her trust, her attention, her spirit. If a killing machine like Frank Castle and a goody-two-shoes like Matt Murdock could have Karen’s loyalty, why couldn’t he? That was something Dex was willing to do anything to find out.
I just have to get close enough to see it… to see the truth behind Karen’s soul. To find out what I need to do to get her to take me in. I want her to show me what to do with myself and my life. To guide me to my life’s purpose….to be my North Star….
Dex prepped his gear. He realized early on in his tenure as Bullseye that nobody really noticed what he was wearing as long as he looked like he owned his space in the world. He wore his nondescript gray baseball jacket over his costume and hid his mask in the oversized pocket in his cargo pants.
He wore his plain black baseball hat and stepped outside his apartment and down the stairs. Mrs. Smithers didn’t pop out to say hello. Her novelas were on and she rarely missed them.
Dex walked over to his stake out spot near Nelson, Murdock, and Page. Foggy Nelson was in the crosshairs of Dex’s scope when Karen appeared in view of the window behind Nelson’s desk.
She wore a navy woven dress and had her hair up in a messy bun. Karen was emphatically gesturing at the papers on the desk as Foggy wiped a tired hand over his face and solemnly nodded along with her argument.
It had been months since the night Dex had appeared on the doorstep of Nelson, Murdock, and Page claiming to know about Vanessa Fisk’s plan to have Foggy murdered. And how Dex was supposed to be the one to do it for her.
After what happened with Julie and the chaos that ensued at the Fisk’s wedding, Dex had let Vanessa begin to weave her web of intrigues, intending on letting her hang herself in it. Dex had learned a lot in his time healing from his shattered spine and marinating his psyche in a heavy cocktail of psych meds at the facility.
All Dex needed now was to get the dirt he had on Vanessa Fisk into the right hands.
When Dex was let into the main room of the law office, Murdock had immediately played Devil’s Advocate, patiently explaining to Karen and Foggy that since Dex stepped forward before actually doing the deed, they all owed Dex the benefit of the doubt. Foggy was more than hesitant to trust Dex, and Karen watched as the two men argued over what to do with Dex’s case.
Dex could see the mistrust written in her body language. Echoes of her own run-ins with him must have been playing in her mind.
Dex holding her at gunpoint. Dex murdering most of Karen’s coworkers at the Bulletin. Dex almost getting his hands on her during her arrest in the church so that he could personally deliver her corpse to Wilson Fisk.
Dex saw it all flash across her face, her hand nervously running through her hair, pacing around the room. But then, Karen suddenly took on a stance of resolve and flashed Dex that stubborn look of defiance.
“Come and get me, asshole…”
Dex admired her courage. Few people could meet his eye on a good day, and here Karen was, staring him down like a lioness. It took the breath out of his lungs when she didn’t back down. After those first few moments of uncertainty, Karen Page seemed to promise to herself that she’d never be intimidated by Benjamin Poindexter ever again.
As Nelson and Murdock strategized, Karen made calls, took notes and statements, did research, and called in a favor.
“Frank, I wouldn’t ask this of you if I didn’t think it was important or was something you weren’t able to handle…” Karen sighed into the phone in her hands. She seemed agitated to have to call in a favor.
After a moment of silence on the phone, Frank told her he’d be there in ten minutes. Karen looked over at Dex as if to say, You better be worth this.
Eight minutes later, Frank Castle knocked on the door and came face-to-face with Dex. Frank’s hard, brown eyes sized up Dex and softened when they fell on Karen.
“Hey, stranger, didn’t think you’d come…” Karen embraced Frank, his face moulding perfectly into her loose, silky blonde hair. Frank closed his eyes and sank into her shoulder.
Matt and Foggy looked at each other in a mild state of shock. Who knew the big, bad Punisher was capable of hugging anyone any more?
“Karen, you know I owe you one from before. This makes us even.” Frank seemed hesitant to break his hold on Karen, but did so quickly when he noticed how closely Dex was watching them.
“So, Red and the rest of them want me to keep an eye on you? Thought you were less than amenable to doing anyone any favors, Bullseye.” Frank crossed his arms and leaned on Karen’s desk.
“I’m here to make things right. Did a lot of bad shit while being on the Fisk’s leash and they played me all the same. I’m not eager to repeat the performance.” Dex met Frank’s eyes.
Frank sneered at that. “Yeah, I heard you went after Karen and Matt. Now, altar boy can more than handle himself, but I want you to know that if you go after Karen again, I won’t let you live long enough to testify.”
Matt began to step forward to defend Dex and protect the case, but Dex held up a hand to stop him. “Karen has nothing to fear from me. I need her. And besides… if I remember correctly, she gave me a run for my money in the church.”
Frank turned to raise his eyebrow at Karen. “You hiding something from me, Karen?”
Karen sighed and met Dex’s eyes. “You were going after Matt and me. I wasn’t going to let it be easy for you.”
Dex chuckled. “It wasn’t easy.”
“Good,” Karen huffed. “You killed Father Lantom.”
Dex sighed and cranked his neck in frustration. “I did kill him. I have no excuses. I killed Father Lantom because I could.” Dex met her eyes, but his voice was unavoidably flat; it was something he did when he could barely tolerate himself telling the truth.
I also killed Father Lantom because I couldn’t kill you. Dex had kept that part to himself.
Karen reared back at Dex’s bluntness but surged forward with hatred and tears in her eyes. Matt intercepted her, pulling her into an embrace that seemed to pacify her. “Don’t, Karen. Father Lantom wouldn’t want you to lose yourself. Besides, we need him.”
After a moment to collect herself, Karen gained some distance across the room and stared coldly at the wall to keep herself from staring daggers into Dex.
“So… I babysit the psycho and you build a case against the Fisks? This is going to be the highlight of my week.” Frank put himself between Karen and Dex.
“That’s the gist, yeah. But you calling him a psycho? Isn’t that a bit hypocritical?” Foggy began to nonchalantly write out a set of notes and blithely looked up to gauge Frank’s reaction.
“Touche.” Frank let Karen give him a soft, meaningful sidelong glance. They touched one last time before Frank barked, “All right, Bullseye, let’s go. You’re spending the night with me.”
Dex gave a nod to Matt and Foggy, and looked expectantly at Karen. She met his eyes but didn’t smile. “Thank you for doing this for me. I don’t deserve it but I want to make up for all I’ve done. I want you to know that having my mind and body broken may not be nearly what I deserve for killing Father Lantom alone, but I’m willing to do whatever it takes to learn to be better from you all. The people I killed deserve justice from the Fisks… and from me.”
Karen seemed to soften for a moment but hardened again when Frank cleared his throat expectantly. “You got your work cut out for you, Dex, but I wish you the best of luck.” Karen dismissed Dex by turning her attention back to Matt and Foggy.
Eight months went by and the trial was a success… for the most part. Vanessa was found guilty of facilitating a potential hit on Foggy using Dex, but because of some orchestrated technicality, she was given some white collar sentencing; fines, probation, house arrest, and a short stay at a ritzy rehab center of sorts.
Hardly what she needed or deserved.
All that hard work… for nothing.
Matt seemed disappointed but unphased. Foggy was irate, a rare occurrence for him. And Karen… she looked to Dex during sentencing. Something in her eyes seemed to concede that Dex’s testimony was wasted. That maybe Dex and Frank’s way of handling justice should have been considered during this particular case. Would the world be better off with two less Fisks in it? Would their deaths truly balance the scales of justice?
Dex smiled at the memory of Karen’s shared thread of understanding. In the depths of her true blue eyes in that packed courtroom, he saw an ideal version of himself reflected back at him. A soulful mirror he had been missing since he lost Julie to Fisk.
In that moment, when their eyes met, Dex felt a comatose bolt of inspiration rise in his chest. Karen brought out a desire to do good. To be good. Even if it meant doing bad things to get those good results.
Karen’s statuesque figure filled the sight in Dex’s scope. She was so animated with her body and her voice that it broke Dex’s heart every time he parted from his view of her living her life. One minute, arguing and passionate about her work and values; the next, laughing and silly with Foggy and the newly on-boarded Kirsten. Or, in the rare times, quiet and tender with Matt or Frank.
Dex wished he was worthy of Karen’s tenderness. He had relished Julie’s softness in the few moments he had had with her. But now Dex saw another opportunity with Karen.
You better get used to having her from a distance, Dex. That’s all she’ll be to you. A mirage of an oasis in a desert of suffering… The hard, grating voice of his disappointment echoed in Dex’s mind.
I will have her true blue eyes on me again. I will feel the connection we have again. A taste of his dormant wild desires surged up to combat his practicality.
Having Karen Page in his life was not in the realm of impossibility. All Dex had to do was to find an opportunity to see her again.
As Dex continued to watch Karen, AVTF officers gathered on the street below. Dex counted five SUVs full of them storm into the lobby of Nelson, Murdock, and Page’s office building and make their way up to where Karen, Foggy, and Kirsten were working.
Busting in and toppling desks and stacks of papers, the AVTF roughly bagged and tagged Karen, Foggy, and Kirsten before hauling them down to the two armored vehicles that had later joined the five SUVs.
Powell smugly shoved a mouthy Foggy into the back of one while Cole took Karen and Kirsten to the other.
Dex could only watch as the armored vehicles drove away, doing his best to memorize details of them before they disappeared around the corner.
Eyeing the AVTF officers, he picked an SUV of them to tail. If he couldn’t directly get to Karen, he knew one of them would know where she was.