Frank Castle laid in his bed, staring at the ceiling. He'd been removed from his duties with SWAT due to an injury sustained while on duty a month and a half ago. He'd been bored out of his skull, staying at home, watching cartoons.

Still, it had given him time to spend with his family. He'd actually got to spend more than a week straight with his kids for the first time since his son's fifth birthday, six years before. He smiled at the thought of the fishing trip they had planned for the weekend that was coming up. He went back to work the next day, so he'd promised he'd take his son out one more time since he'd had to miss his eleventh birthday party.

He sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed, pulling on a white sweatshirt to go with the black joggers he was wearing. He walked out of the bed room, through the corridor and into the study.

They'd inherited the house from his father nine years before, and he had refused to change any detail of the study. During his time off, he'd been using it to write his memoirs and do some reading. He'd also taken to maintaining the gun collection his father had kept in there, especially the colt M1911s.

He remembered helping his father customise them twelve years before, while his wife had been pregnant and had her moments of not letting him in the house for one reason or another, often due to her not wanting him to see her binge eating due to the cravings. Both had had the hammers replaced with ring hammers and the grip customised for added precision. One had the barrel extended by three inches, increasing both fire power and range. The other had a similar modification, though the extended barrel also served as a silencer, which had decreased the range a bit.

He took the silenced one down and pulled a cleaning utensil from the desk and began cleaning the gun, first cleaning the barrel out and then the rest of the gun. Once he'd finished, he placed the gun back on the display and repeated the process with the other gun.

Once that was completed, he placed it back on the display and walked out of the study and down the stairs to the kitchen, pulling out a carton of milk and opening it. He took a swig and then pulled a glass out of the cabinet beside him, pouring himself out a glass before putting the carton back and pulling a candy bar out of the cupboard above the one he'd pulled the glass from, taking the snack through to his living room.

He sat down in front of the TV, grabbing the remote and flicking the news on.

"…and in other news, NYPD today apprehended known mobster Billy Russo. He is reported to be currently in police custody for holding pending their trial."

Frank smirked. He'd been the one to get them the intel on Billy, during one of his undercover ops. He'd known that the two were being brought in soon. The plan had been to wait for Frank so that they could bring him in. Obviously, Billy had been getting cold feet or he wouldn't have been brought in so soon.

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Billy sat in his cell in the NYPD precinct house, whistling to himself. It wasn't like he'd be in there long. He was one of New York's biggest mob bosses, his guys would have him out within twenty four hours, if that.

He knew who'd ratted him out. A man named Francesco Castello had been working with him recently, only on a few jobs, but he'd got close enough to get inside information. He'd done some checks on Castello and found that he was a pseudo name being used by an undercover operative, Frank Castle with the NYPD. The advantage of having people inside the police force meant he had access to their databases. He'd known they were coming.

Now, he knew what he was going to do. Castle was returning to work following some sick leave on the Monday coming up. Then, his family would be vulnerable. Then Frank Castle would be punished for crossing him.

…………………………………………………………………………………………..

Frank woke up to find his wife sat at the other end of the sofa. He'd fallen asleep in front of the TV. His son was watching cartoons while his daughter laid on her stomach, playing games on her Nintendo DS.

"Whoah. What time is it?" He said, stretching as he straightened up, trying to shake off the stiffness in his muscles.

"Seven." His wife replied "You were asleep when me and the kids got in and we didn't want to wake you. How's the arm?"

"Feels great." He said, grinning at his son "Perfect for casting out a fishing line."

"Good, because you wouldn't get out of it even if it fell off." His son said laughing.

"I wouldn't even try." Frank replied with a grin "You take after your mom in that you scare me more than the bad guys that I get sent to catch any day of the week."

"Woo hoo." The boy replied happily "I scare dad, I scare dad."

As he said that, he pointed a finger at frank, his other three fingers clenched with his thumb sticking up. He brought the thumb down and made a gun like noise, which Frank responded to by bringing his head back and playing dead. The boy walked up to him and poked him, only to have Frank jump on him, tickling him, causing him to laugh.

A couple of hours later, after putting his daughter to bed while his son stayed downstairs, inevitably falling asleep on the couch, Frank came down and picked the boy up gently, carrying him upstairs and putting him in bed. He brushed the boy's dark hair out of his face before walking out of the room, closing the door gently.

When he got downstairs, he found his wife with a bottle of wine and two glasses. He smirked.

"We celebrating?" He asked.

"Yes, we are." She replied, smiling mischievously.

"What are we celebrating then?" He said, curious.

"That we have a good life, good kids and a good home." She said as she walked towards him "Any better reasons?"

"Nope." Frank replied, taking the bottle and glasses from her as he kissed her "Anyway, we should probably have this then go to bed. I need to be up tomorrow for the fishing trip."

"Yes you do." She said "I love you."

"I love you too." He said as he poured out the two glasses, gulping his down and pouring out another, finishing the bottle "Now, let's goes to bed."