This story is a Retcon and contains a lot of foul language, a questionable scene (non sexual) involving pee, the death of a minor and two adults, if any of this offends you please do not read any further.

Sixteen year old Frank Castle had just finished up his ROTC training and headed off to the Youth Center to play some basketball with some of the other kids, something he always enjoyed doing after school. He happily gave up a lot of his time to the guys over there who had nothing.

“Hey Frank want to play some ball?” one of the smaller kids asked, and Frank smiled.

“Sure I have an hour or two to kill before I have to head home, why not?” Frank replied.

Frank and several boys were shooting hoops outside the Youth Facility, Frank giving the young boys pointers on how to play the game like he had done many times before, not noticing the black car with black tinted windows across the parking lot. Not like it mattered: a lot of cars parked across the street.

“Hey Frank, isn’t it time you headed off?” Chris Eps, the director at the youth facility, yelled out from the door.

“Yeah, hey I lost track of time. Can you call my parents for me and tell them I’m on my way home?” Frank smiled grabbing his school pack and started to leave.

“Sure Frank, I’ll give them a ring. Oh and be safe out there ok?” Chris smiled as he went back inside to call Frank’s parents to tell them hes on his way home.

The youth center was in a pretty bad area of New York: street gangs almost on every corner, and the mob even worked parts of the area. Frank knew the dangers but didn’t care because what he did for those kids made him happy since nobody else would look out for them, and if it wasn’t for Chris those boys would end up part of those gangs that run these streets. Not paying attention to the black car that was following him, Frank walked home.

Taking the safer route home, Frank was thinking about his day at school. The bullies were just as bad even in his school, and there was this girl and a couple boys at his school that they seemed to target a lot. Someone had to stick up for them, so he took it on himself to do just that.

“You know those fucks are going to try it again tomorrow,” Frank sighed as he talked to himself, “Every single fucking day it seems like the same thing over and over again.”

“You’re late, Francis!” a young female voice chimed in a sing-song tone from an open window as Frank walked up the sidewalk.

“Shut up and tell mom I’m on my way inside brat!” Frank called back to her as he approached the door.

Frank didn’t hate his little sister, but like most older brothers he also didn’t like her that much either, she was the youngest and therefor spoiled rotten, The only thing that saved her in his eyes, was that she was his kid sister and blood is thicker then water.

“MO-OM! Francis is here!” she giggled as she raced off further into the house and out of sight.

Just as Frank turned the door knob there was a click, and suddenly the house exploded around him, sending him flying backwards at massive speed, into the telephone pole across the street.
The black car speed off down the road, the last thing Frank saw before he blacked out was a rocket launcher being pulled back into the car, and the license plate number.

Unknown time and day in an unknown place

“She’s stabilized now. Her metabolism took those shots really well, Wonder how she lived through that blast...” an unknown males voice said.

“Vitals are good” said an unknown female voice. “I think her body’s resisting the sedative. I’m doubling the dose if that’s alright.”

“We don’t need her waking up right now, go ahead, Maria.” The unknown male voice said.

“There. I’ll just leave this here in case we need it.”, the woman named Maria said as she left the sedative shot next to the bed.

Frank Castle went out again. There was light for a second and voices but now it was dark and quiet again left with only his own voice in his mind.

‘God damn it where the fuck am I?’ Frank thought to himself, ‘And who is this girl they have in here with me. They better not be the ones that blew me the fuck up or I’ll kill them too’

Unsure of the time, the light started coming back to Frank and so did the voices, still unable to see anything since his eyes would not open.

“Did the blood work come in yet?” the male voice he heard earlier asked.

“Yes and it seems inconclusive; there’s no answers here.” the woman named Maria responded.

The male sighed, “Well I guess we will have to leave her here, and move to a new location this place is probably dirty by now.”

“Are you sure that’s wise? Just abandoning her I mean?”

“I’ll make sure to leave her with some papers, so she can at least function. It’s what her benefactor asked, Maria.” the man said in a professional tone.

“Yes, of course,” Maria answered, though she had doubt in her voice. “I’ll start packing immediately.”

“Leave some water, and a pack of rations for her when she wakes.” The man leaves the room, and a metal door shuts.

Maria sighed. “If you can hear me, I’m sorry. All I can do is what I’m told. Somebody up there must really like you to go through this much trouble. Hang in there, ok?” she spoke softly, and after a moment, a distinct click of heels echoed through the room as she followed the unnamed man’s instructions then left through the same metal door.

What seemed like days had passed since he last heard the two voices, Frank’s eyes slowly started to open and could see around the dimly lit room. He was on a hospital bed with only a night stand next to it, with four bottles of water and two pouches of military rations, and some papers in a folder.

Grabbing a bottle of water Frank chugged it down, as if he hadn’t drank in months. “God damn where the hell am I, and where’s the girl that was in here with me?” he grumbled his throat raspy and dry, barely an audible growl or gurgle.

Standing up Frank noticed the folder with the papers in it, on top of it was a pink sticky note that read, ‘Sorry about leaving you like this, but we had to move. You will find inside this folder all the information and money you will need to survive. P.S. Please survive sweetie you’ve done a good job so far.’’

“Survive what?” Franks voice still scratchy from not drinking for several days, “I hope there’s a bathroom in here ‘cause I have to piss like a race horse.”

He could see three doors in this room: one metal and two wooden. There didn’t seem to be a mirror or window in the main room, just the bed and the night stand. The rest of the room seemed barren, without even a speck of dust on the floor.

Frank moved to the bigger wooden door first to open it. A standing hospital tub and shower, a handicap toilet and a sink with a mirror lay beyond. Not paying attention to anything else, Frank sprinted over to the toilet to whip his Johnson out to take a piss. Instead of pulling it out, his piss started to run down his leg.

“God damn it!” he growled. “I think I’m still numb from the drugs they gave me or something.”

Frank sighed and moved over to the sink, to wash his hands. Looking up to the mirror out of habit, he stopped and stared, shouting, “Holy fuck! who the fuck is that!”

“No fucking way that’s not me Fuck this shit!” Frank screamed at the girl staring blankly back at him, and punched the mirror shattering it. He didn’t seem to even feel the glass shards as they cut his hand. Frank stumbled out of the bathroom towards the smaller wooden door trying to find his clothes so he could get the fuck out of this place.

Opening the other wooden door, Frank looked inside. “Is this some kinda fucking joke?” he, now she, asked nobody as she inventoried the contents of the closet - a black skirt that came to three inches above the knee, a black shirt with a white skull on the front, black under garments, black, knee high Lolita boots, a gun holster for the legs, and a loaded 9mm pistol.

Grabbing the pistol, she stared down the barrel. “Maybe I should just shoot myself,” she scowled then smirked. “No, I’m going to fucking shoot the people responsible for this shit instead,” she growled, shoving the pistol back in its holster.

Sighing Frank put on the clothes and fastened the holster to her leg. “I guess I better go read those fucking papers too.” Walking over to the night stand Frank grabbed another bottle of water and tossed it down, as she opened the folder.

Inside the folder, was Frank Castle’s death certificate, along with some medical papers, and underneath them was a birth certificate for an Angelica Castle almost the same information as his own except it stated female instead of male along with more medical papers and an I.D.

“You sick motherfuckers killed my entire family then have the fucking balls to give me my sister’s name? I’ll kill every fucking one of you.” Frank barked at the darkness surrounding her, about to throw all but the new papers across the room when ten one hundred dollar bills fell out onto the floor.

“Money.. What the fuck.” She quickly reached down and pulled up the bills. “Why the fuck did they leave me so much money?”

Gathering all the important papers, grabbing another bottle of water, and one of the Ration pouches Frank or should he now refer to himself as Angelica walked to the big metal door.

The first thing to come out of the door on the other side was the barrel of her new pistol. She couldn’t afford to waste ammo to find out if it worked or not - not until she got back to check on the weapons cache her dad had built up anyway, and had to hope the sight would be enough of a bluff if it didn’t. If there was anybody left here, they were going to start answering questions, or experience unexplored realms of pain.

She crept out of the room, turning this way and that. Overhead, a single light fixture with an old bulb flickered a dull yellow. A rat scurried across the floor, very nearly getting lead between its eyes as she spun to face it. Somehow she restrained herself, but as she crept along the wall, she growled.

“Whoever left this fucking get-up for me to wear is gonna get shot just on principle. Could’ve at least left a goddamn pair of pants and some normal shoes!”

She sighed, staring up at the bulky, old elevator. “Oh, hell no. I didn’t just survive an explosion to die of starvation because the elevator got stuck. Just what I need to go to heaven and be like Hey Mom, Dad, here is your new daughter! I fucking lived through the house blowing up, but died in a stuck fucking elevator. On top of it all guys some dicks in white turned me into a girl!”

She laughed bitterly, kicking a dent in the elevator door before walking away. Off to the side, over a metal door with a small rectangular window, an exit sign hung by a few wires. She flung the door open and crept up the stairs, as if stealth were still an option after her rather loud outburst a moment before.

Angelica quickly found herself standing in the hallway of an old hospital. “Of course. This is where the fucking zombies come out to eat my brains right?” she sneered, backing up against the wall and creeping past overturned hospital beds, wheelchairs, and even the odd office chair.

Old papers from a busted nurse’s desk seemed scattered at random all over the floor. The next corridor seemed brighter, and as she peeked around the corner she could see a partially boarded up glass entryway through which an outside street lamp’s light poured through.

Stepping out onto a busy street, no one seemed to pay her any mind. Even a police officer sitting in his squad car ignored her in favor of a sizable slice of pizza. She rolled her eyes and started down the street. “No fucking way I’m taking the subway dressed like this,” she growled, flagging down a taxi.

She gave the driver instructions to stop a block away, in part because she couldn’t be sure she wasn’t being followed, but she also wanted to case the area and assess any threats first, just like she learned from both her father and the ROTC.

She quickly surveyed the area. Not seeing a soul, she passed under the police tape to the only standing structure on the property, the old reinforced shed her dad had built. “At least this is still standing.” she sighed and entered her dads entrance code to open the door.

From the nearby shadows, a female voice called, trying to sound strong. Angelica could see the glint of a steel gun barrel in the street light, but not the girl’s face yet. “Hey, punk chick. This is private property. Have some respect for the dead.”

Turning her head she stared at the girl standing under the street lamp that she hit from the blast. “Who the fuck are you to tell me what to do on my own property?” Angelica asked rudely.

“Don’t bullshit me!” the girl shouted as she stormed closer, keeping her handgun trained on the girl. “Don’t bullshit me, bitch! My friend Frank is supposed to meet me here. So unless you’re some long-lost cousin or some shit, you’d better hit the pavement before I hit your head with it, bitch!”

“Well fucking hell, Felicia, when the hell did you grow balls?” Angelica frowned at the girl, “And if I didn’t belong here how the fuck could I get into this shed when the cops couldn’t?”

Felicia blinked a few times, staring intently at Angelica, as if trying to place her face. She slowly lowered her pistol. “Who … Who are you?”

“Frank Castle, who the fuck do you think I am?” Angelica sighed, “I need to get my dads guns, I’m ganna fucking kill everyone involved in this bullshit.”

“Frank?!” she gasped. “Oh shit. I am so sorry. What the fuck did they do to you? You look... I mean... you’ve got bigger breasts than mine!”

“That’s because you’re flat chested you doff. Every one’s got bigger guns then you.” Angelica smiled slightly, and went into the shed, “If you’re going to follow me you better hurry, and close the damn door behind you.”

Felicia cracked a smile as she stepped inside, pulling the door closed. “Nice shoes by the way,” she teased, as she pulled Angelica’s pistol from its holster, giving it a quick once-over, glancing down the barrel at a nearby wall, and then returning it to her.

“Oh fuck you. This isn’t my idea of the perfect set of clothes.” Angelica frowned. “I’d rather be wearing jeans and my running shoes.”

“Even nicer piece. And for what it’s worth I like the punk look, but I can’t blame you for hating it. Anyway, I’d like to help.”

“No fucking way, I wont have you getting killed over bullshit that’s not even yours, Besides you would only slow me down.”

In one swift motion Felicia snatched Angelica’s knife, aimed, and flung it, burying it hilt-deep in the bulls-eye of a target hanging on the far wall. “It’s not that I can’t handle myself Frank. It’s that under normal circumstances, I can’t fight back - literally. If I did, my family would catch hell from the gossip rags. But you’ve always stood up for me, even though you never had to. I want to return the favor. And this sure as hell is not normal circumstances.”

“Fuck it. The first time you squeal and faint from the slight of blood you’re out you got it?” Angelica frowned at her.

“I’ll remember that when I’m sewing up your shoulder, pal,” she smiled, trying to cheer her up. “So do I still call you Frank?”

“According to my new documents, they named me after my fucking sister. The balls of these people you know? First they fucking kill my entire family, then they give me my dead sister’s name.” Angelica grabbed her dad’s Marine Corps knife and tossed it without looking, hitting right next to the cheap knife Felicia tossed almost blade to blade.

Felicia nodded. She sensed that now wasn’t the time to press the subject any further than that, and turned to approach one of the gun racks, quietly running her hand over the MP5.

Angelica grabbed her dad’s duffel bag and started to load it with the guns and ammo, “I need to find a place to hide, a warehouse or something, there’s a few that are shut down near here, I think I might take up shack in one of those.”

“Sounds like a plan. I’d offer to put you up, but the press is having a shit fit over the governor’s daughter running away from home.” Felicia trailed off, smiling innocently.

Angelica shook her head. “I hope you at least grabbed a laptop and some cash on the way out? Never know what you might need.”

Felicia nodded. “I’ve got everything I need; trust me.”

Cleaning out all the guns and ammo into the Military duffel , Angelica, smiled a faint smile, “Lets go find our new home then I guess... Partner.” saying the last bit with a sigh.

Felicia chuckled to herself. “You won’t regret it. Once we get a computer set up I can start getting you kitted out with something less … mundane on the weapons front. You’re on your own for clothes though. What you’ve got now is pretty bad-ass though. And I mean that.”

Angelica let out a sigh as they both exited the shed for the last time ever. Turning to the house she muttered under her breath, “The guilty shall be punished.”