"you can follow me down,
don't be scared what you may find,
some say i'm different now,
i think i've lost my mind"
- Dirty Hands (Gone Mad), Kendra Dantes

╳

"Damn it." Frank exclaims.

"Want me to go slower?" I ask, mockingly.

"Shut up. Just deal the cards."

I wear a smirk as I show him the two jacks and the queen in my hands, before throwing them onto the kitchen counter and shuffling their places back and forth.

"So, what do you intend to do about our situation?" I ask Frank, while he follows what he thinks is the jack.

"What is our situation?" he asks.

"My point exactly." I comment.

I stop shuffling and push the three cards closer to him. Frank points to the card in the middle and I flip it to reveal a jack, for the fourth time in a row.

"Are you kidding me?"

"You're not seeing it." I tease.

"What do you mean I'm not seeing it? You're cheating." he says and I laugh.

"Everyone knows Three Card Monty is a scam." I tell him. "You hardly ever see women playing this. Only men. The frustration keeps them playing. They want to win. Or they need the money. Every marker has his reason."

"Yeah, what's mine?" he asks, looking amused.

I lean forward on the bench top, towards Frank. "You think you can beat anyone, no matter how stacked the deck." I say, no longer talking about cards. "And you're bored. And you drink way too much coffee."

Frank snickers. "What's the alternative?"

"Be smart. Don't play." I tell him, looking him dead in the eyes.

"That's not an option." he counters casually.

I give him a disapproving look and deal the cards again. And once again, Frank picks a jack.

"You're palming the queen." he accuses.

"No, look.." I say innocently and flip the queen that sits in front of him. 

"You gotta be kidding me.." he groans, shoving the card towards me and I chuckle.

"It's just a simple sleight actually." I reveal, picking the cards back up.

"Yeah?" he says, with half a smirk and a frown.

I hold up the queen, and one of the jacks, in one hand and show him. "See, show the queen, but throw the jack." I say, tossing the jack down first. "That's it."

Frank scoffs. "That pisses me off."

"Just been lookin' in the wrong place." I comment.

He looks at me and I smile at him.

It feels as if we're back at the bar, getting lost in each other again. And Frank has a glint in his eye, similar to the one he had before he invited me to his motel..

I want nothing more than to be close to him again. But I've promised myself not to. Not until I'm completely honest with him. And I planned to be honest this morning, until Evan shot me with the serum shit. Now, I have to wait for it to leave my system again.

I breathe out a silent sigh of longing and lean back, putting an extra few inches of distance between us. "I appreciate your willingness to help me, Frank. Truely." I tell him. "But I can't let you. You've risked enough already. Madani, too. And she doesn't even know it."

"I ain't lookin' for permission." he replies.

"Frank, I'm serious. This isn't just criminals, just bad men with guns-"

"You got that right. That shit you brought back.." he says, nodding his head to the silver guns at the end of the counter. "..why's he huntin' you with tranqs? This is New York City, not the fuckin' Savanna."

"He wants me alive."

Frank nods, looking thoughtful. "Why does he want you to work for him? Why doesn't he just find someone else?"

"I told you, I'm an asset." I answer.

"And I told you that's vague." Frank counters, dark eyes staring into my soul for the truth.

I chew on my bottom lip. 

I can't just tell him. A man like Frank needs proof. And at the moment, I have none.

"I can't tell you right now-"

"Can't or won't?" he questions.

"Can't." I affirm. "I want to, I do. But it's not something I can just tell you. I need to show you. And at the moment, I can't show you."

"Show me? Show me what? You can just tell me." he insists.

"You won't believe me if I tell you."

"Try me." he states. "I've seen a lot of shit, Jenavieve. Even fought a blind guy in a red suit."

I can't help but feel giddy hearing my real name fall from his lips, and I have to force myself to focus on our conversation.

"..Fine." I sigh and stand up straight, staring him in the eyes as I divulge my truths as plainly as possible. "My body has the ability to rapidly regenerate, my skeleton is coated with an indestructible metal and I have retractable blades hidden under the skin of my hands and feet."

Frank narrows his eyes at me, suppressing a smirk. "Very funny."

"You'll see. When my healing's back, I'll show you." I assure him.

"When it's back? Why can't you heal now?" he asks mockingly.

I release a deep, calming exhale through my nose. Walking to the end of the bench, I retrieve the two silver guns I took from Evan and walk back to Frank.

"This, is a tranq gun." I tell him, showing him the gun in my right hand. Then I wave the dart gun in my left. "And this, is a dart gun. The doctor today also shot me with a dart which contains a green serum that suppresses my healing ability."

"Uh-huh." Frank comments, false seriousness in his eyes.

He's not believing a word.

I watch as he snickers into his cup, taking another mouthful of coffee. My jaw tenses at his very valid ignorance.

"They shot me with one of these back at the bar, too." I inform him. "Remember how you wanted to take me to the hospital for a gunshot wound?"

He nods as he swallows.

I drop the guns on the counter and pull back the fabric of my clothing from my shoulder to reveal my perfect, wound free skin. As Frank's eyes dart between my face and my shoulder, I tilt my head and raise my eyebrows.

"You said it wasn't deep, didn't need stitches.." he tries to rationalise.

"And still it healed completely in days?" I question his reasoning.

Frank shrugs off my querie, earning an eye roll from me and he suppresses a smirk at my frustration.

"Think you've read one too many comic books, Jen." he comments lowly. Then gestures for me to deal the cards one more time.

I narrow my eyes at him and pick up the deck.

Frank waits for me to deal, only to pick a jack again. He frowns up at me.

"Knowing the move won't help you." I tell him, my tone void of all humour. "If I know you know.."

Frank flips the other cards, finally finding the queen before he scoffs in defeat.

"Like I said, the only way to win, is to not play." I tell him, staring him down.

"That's not an option." he counters, staring right back. "We just gotta make sure that we're the dealer."

"You can't be the dealer when you don't have the whole deck.." I say quietly.

"So give me the whole deck." he replies, matching the volume of my tone.

I look at him for a moment, then exhale yet another deep sigh.

"A little over a year ago, at the end of my Afghanistan tour, a man named William Stryker came and recruited my unit. Told us we'd be a part of a special mission that was going to make a difference, serve our country, protect our families. Of course we all jumped at the opportunity. But it was all a lie." I finally divulge, and Frank hangs on every word. "There was no special mission to help our country. The special mission was for Stryker to create perfect assassins, for personal gain. He informed our families back home that my unit and I were killed in action, while he held us captive. We were subjected to experimentation, torture and hard training." I continue, Frank's eyes never leaving mine. "His final step was to erase my memory to ensure compliance and obedience. I escaped. I ran home. And my family was killed for it, right in front of me. So I ran again. All the way to that little bar in Michigan."

"..And this happened here in New York?" he asks after a moment.

"It started in Afghanistan, but then moved to New York, yes."

"Where exactly?"

"I'm not sure.. I escaped in a frenzy." I answer. "I hadn't seen the sun for months, I was disoriented and desperate. I just ran until I saw something I recognised, then set course for home."

Frank nods, and I can almost hear the wheels spinning in his mind.

"He's coming after me to finish what he started. That's it, that's the deck." I say. "So, just how do you plan on dealing?"

"We locate him. Take him out." Frank states.

"And how do you plan on doing that?"

"I know a guy. He might be able to pinpoint just where the hell these came from." he says, gesturing to the guns. "I go from there."

"We go from there." I correct.

"Look, out there, I will not have time to look out for you-"

"I don't need you to." I cut off his protests. "You're not doing this on your own. We split the deck.."

"You done with the card metaphors?"

"Frank.."

"It's late. We can talk more in the morning." he dismisses.

"Frank." I try again but I can see in his eyes, he doesn't want to press the matter.

"I think you should get some sleep." he says, ending the conversation.

I narrow my eyes at him for a moment and then scoff before heading to the bedroom.

Well, now he knows.

But he doesn't believe.

So really, it's like he still knows nothing.

But I'll show him.

Bring on tomorrow.

A/ N

references: adapted dialogue from "One-Eyed Jacks," episode 5, The Punisher season 2.

- K