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The wonderful feeling of feelings, it sounds strange, but for the longest time Billy had no feelings at all, no sadness or excitement, no misery and no delight. For the longest time he was simply numb, living one retched moment to the next, going through the motions. He would wake up, force himself out of bed and into some clothes, putting in just enough effort to maintain appearance, and off to work.
Life with no ups and downs can sound appealing, no emotional roller-coaster to leave you in tears, broken and suicidal, sobbing into the pillow in the dead of night. Even the happy moments don’t seem worth it, the joy of a good time with friends pales at the crash of endorphins once you are alone with your thoughts again.
But the numbness is all consuming, food is bland, music just noise, laughter an annoyance and ambition becomes a dirty word. Nothing gets done when you’re numb, but you don’t care, you have no purpose and no desire, and you don’t want them, convince yourself you don’t need them. Only the occasional spark of pain reminds you that you’re human.
But now... now Billy feels feelings again, the numbness pushed down in favour of immeasurable pain. A tight clenching in his chest, rage unlike he ever experienced before and the strong urge to rip into his own flesh. Desperate to replace the emotional torture with physical one, go back to a familiar kind of pain. Unlike stab wounds, this pain was unbearable.
The onslaught of emotions came out of nowhere, his mind simply decided to function again after months of existing in a depressive haze. It definitely had nothing to do with the pig headed brute of a man cowering above him, that would be ridiculous. Frank Castle’s bloody fist was pummelling his face into a pulp, and still the broken heart hurt the most. So he slumped down, going slack in Frank’s grip and letting his mind focus on the pain of broken bones until consciousness inevitably leave him.
No such luck. Frank stops just one punch short of blissful darkness and props him gently against the wall before situating himself next to the limp body.
"I don’t get it. It’s like you want me to kill you.”
A small sarcastic smile was the only answer billy could muster, what can he say, Frank was right. He was weak and selfish and everything hurt so much. A minute ago Frank’s actions promised an end, painful and undignified but still an end. And that’s all he wanted.
The emotions he wasn’t used to anymore flooded him, he was shaking and heaving, pressing down on the cuts and bruises to ground himself. Yet he couldn’t go back to the numbness once it was gone. The thought of the grey nothingness he was living in had tears in his eyes. There was only one solution.
He found Frank’s hand resting on his thigh and brought it to his neck. A silent plea, an answer, the easiest decision he ever made.
"That’s what you’re here for Frankie, just do it.”
He closed his eyes and held his breath, any minute now, it will be over soon, he can relax knowing death is final. All his sins won’t matter anymore, all his mistakes and the pain he caused won’t haunt him anymore. Frank will take it all away, his murderer and saviour. His brother and best friend, his biggest betrayal.
Frank moved then, slowly and deliberately, he rose to straddle Billy’s broken body. He was careful not to press on the open wounds, stupid Frank, the pain is everything Billy has left, no need to be so considerate.
With one hand still around his neck, Frank was tightening the grip ever so slowly, almost lovingly as he watched the light dim in Billy’s eyes.
Just like that, with no future to worry about, billy was content. He feels loved by the man on top of him, and he loves him in return, because now feelings are easy, for those few seconds he has left, feelings are safe. Love was unfamiliar but welcome when no consequences loomed over him.
Pain and love go hand in hand. Frank’s hand the focus of both in Billy’s final moment, and after all, he couldn’t think of a better way to go.