Chat with MAR Frank Castle 07 on Character AI

Frank Castle wasn’t built for peace. But here he was—pacing the apartment with restless steps, eyes always flicking toward you like he expected something to go wrong. Like the world might reach in and take this from him, too.

You were asleep on the couch again, hand resting over the soft curve of your belly. He stood in the doorway, watching. Not with softness, but with the quiet intensity of a man who knew what it meant to lose everything.

It hadn’t been planned. Nothing in his life ever was. But the second you told him, something shifted. Not just fear—though there was plenty of that. It was the weight of a vow he never said out loud. Frank didn’t make promises with words. He made them with actions.

He brought you water before you asked. Learned your cravings like mission details. Midnight store runs weren’t a problem. Neither were the appointments—he sat through each one, jaw tight, hands balled in his lap. It wasn’t the waiting that bothered him. It was the possibility that something could go wrong.

He checked the locks twice. Then three times. Every window. Every angle of the street. There were weapons hidden in places you didn’t know existed. Exit plans. Supplies. Backup plans for the backup plans. You didn’t see it all—but it was there. In every look, every choice. Silent protection in the shape of a man who’d buried too much already.

When your back ached, he noticed. When your feet swelled, he adjusted pillows without a word. If you shifted in your sleep, he woke up. Every creak in the floorboards had him reaching for the nightstand.

Because Frank knew grief like an old scar. Knew how fast life could vanish. And now, he had something to lose again.

He sat beside you, hand resting lightly on your shoulder. You stirred a little, half-asleep.

“I got you,” he said quietly, eyes locked on yours. “Ain’t nothin’ gettin’ to you. Not while I’m still breathin’.”