The city's bustling streets are a stark contrast to the quiet haven Mary has found in her small apartment. As she walks through the crowded sidewalk, Bubs by her side, she's reminded of the chaotic world she's trying to distance herself from. The distant sound of sirens and the constant hum of traffic serve as a reminder that danger is never far away.

Lost in her thoughts, Mary rounds a corner into a narrow alleyway, a shortcut she often takes to reach her destination. But today, something feels off. She senses a presence behind her, a lingering feeling that she's being followed.

Instinctually, her body tenses. She knows how to defend herself, how to fight and win, but her newfound commitment to pacifism holds her back. She's trying to leave that life behind, to prove to herself that she can choose a different path.

The footsteps behind her grow closer, and a shadowy figure emerges from the alley's entrance. Mary stops, her heart pounding, her mind racing. She can feel the tension in the air—the potential for violence, for a fight that she knows she could win.

The figure steps into the light, revealing a man with a menacing grin. He's blocking her path, clearly intending to intimidate her. Mary's instincts scream at her to fight back, to defend herself, but she fights against them. She reminds herself of her decision to choose peace over violence.

"Nice dog you got there," The man sneers, eyeing Bubs with a mixture of interest and malice, "Would be a shame if something were to happen to him."

Mary's grip tightens on the leash, her knuckles turning white. Her heart pounds in her chest, torn between the urge to protect Bubs and the desire to honor her commitment to pacifism.

"What do you want?" She manages to say, her voice steady despite the fear that courses through her veins.

The man's grin widens, his intentions clear.

"Your wallet, sweetheart. And anything else of value."

Mary takes a deep breath, her mind racing. She knows she could easily overpower him, take him down without a second thought. But that's not the person she wants to be anymore. She's trying to break free from the cycle of violence, to find a different way.

With a deliberate movement, Mary reaches into her bag and pulls out her wallet, handing it over to the man. She feels a surge of frustration and anger, but she pushes it down. She won't let him take away her newfound sense of control.

The man takes the wallet with a triumphant grin, his gaze still fixed on Bubs.

"Good girl," He taunts, clearly enjoying the power he holds over her.

Mary's fingers curl into fists, her instincts screaming at her to fight back, to show this man that she won't be a victim. But then, her gaze shifts to Bubs, who looks up at her with unwavering trust. In that moment, she knows what she needs to do.

"Keep the wallet," Mary says, her voice steady as she steps forward, her body positioned protectively in front of Bubs, "But you're not taking anything else from me."

The man's expression changes, his amusement turning to frustration. He takes a step closer, his intentions clear. But Mary stands her ground, her heart racing, her palms sweaty.

For a tense moment, they stare each other down, a battle of wills in the narrow alley. And then, with a muttered curse, the man turns and disappears back into the shadows.

Mary lets out a shaky breath, her body trembling from the adrenaline. She reaches down to pet Bubs, her touch grounding her in the reality of the moment. She chose peace over violence, and she's still standing.

As she continues on her way, her steps steadier now, she reflects on the choice she made. It wasn't easy, and the pull of her old life was strong. But she's determined to stick to her commitment, to find strength in choosing a different path.

Mary walks briskly along the dimly lit street, Bubs by her side, their evening walk a peaceful routine that brings her a sense of normalcy. The city's energy feels muted in this quiet corner, and Mary is lost in her thoughts, enjoying the solitude.

As she turns a corner, her heart skips a beat. She senses someone behind her, footsteps that seem to echo her own. She quickens her pace, her instincts on high alert. But the footsteps only quicken as well, closing the distance between them.

Mary's grip tightens on Bubs' leash, her mind racing. She's been in situations like this before—someone following her, someone who might have harmful intentions. Her instinct is to fight, to take control of the situation, to show this person that she won't be an easy target.

But she's determined to stick to her commitment to pacifism. She's determined to prove to herself that she can find another way, that she doesn't have to resort to violence.

She takes a deep breath, steadying her nerves. Bubs looks up at her, sensing her tension, and she gives him a reassuring pat. She won't let fear dictate her actions.

"Hey, beautiful," A voice calls out from behind her. Mary's stomach tightens as she recognizes the tone—a man trying to hit on her, to invade her personal space.

She doesn't respond, keeping her gaze focused ahead, her steps deliberate. But the man persists, his footsteps drawing closer until he's walking beside her.

"Come on, don't be like that," He says, his words oozing with entitlement, "I just wanted to talk to a pretty lady."

Mary's heart races, her discomfort growing. She's faced threats before, but this situation is different. This man isn't directly attacking her, but his unwanted advances are becoming increasingly threatening.

She feels the instinctual urge to push him away, to make him back off. But she clenches her fists and forces herself to stay calm. She won't let fear drive her actions.

"Leave me alone," She finally says, her voice firm but controlled.

The man smirks, clearly enjoying the power he holds over her.

"Come on, sweetheart, I just want to get to know you better."

Mary feels a surge of anger, frustration boiling within her. But she suppresses it, focusing on her breathing, on the sense of control she's trying to maintain.

Bubs shifts beside her, sensing her tension, and she takes comfort in his presence. She won't let this man's actions shake her resolve.

But as the man's advances become more insistent, his words turning crude and threatening, Mary's patience wears thin. She feels the fire of anger burning within her, the urge to fight back almost overwhelming.

And then she remembers Bubs. She remembers the commitment she made—to choose peace over violence. She takes a deep breath, her fingers loosening their grip on the leash.

With a calm but unwavering tone, she looks the man in the eye and says, "I said, leave me alone."

" Aw, come on. Don't be like that, beautiful," The man taunts with a sickening grin, " Smile for me, will ya? I bet you have such a pretty smile."

" Not happening," Mary utters as she turns to walk away.

Yet the man refuses to give up.

" Where you going?" He asks as he continues to follow her, " You shouldn't be walking alone. Come on back to my place. I can show you a real good time."

Mary opts to ignore the man as her mind mentally maps out the streets, trying to take an alternative route home in hopes that he'll eventually stop following her. And fortunately, he does. Whether by his own impatience or ignorance, he gives up.

The night is dark and unforgiving as Mary walks through the dimly lit alleyways of New York City. Her senses are on high alert, trained from years of survival. She's come a long way from that life, seeking redemption and a chance to leave the violence behind. But some nights, like tonight, the shadows seem to follow her, refusing to let go of their hold on her past.

As she rounds a corner, her heart skips a beat when she spots a group of menacing figures approaching. She reminds herself that she doesn't need anyone's help, that she can handle herself just fine.

But as the group closes in, something inside her hesitates. For a moment, she feels that familiar rush of fear, the same fear that once controlled her life.

Just as she's about to brace herself for a fight, a sudden noise from behind startles the approaching thugs. Mary turns to see a man stepping out of the shadows—a man clad in black, his face obscured by the brim of a hat.

Before she can react, Frank takes swift and brutal action, swiftly incapacitating the approaching thugs. They scatter, realizing they've picked the wrong target. Mary watches in awe as Frank's skill and efficiency put an end to the threat.

But her admiration quickly turns to frustration as he approaches her with a knowing smirk.

"You need to be more careful, kid," He says, his gravelly voice filled with a hint of amusement.

"I don't need your help," Mary retorts, her pride stinging at the implication of vulnerability.

Frank rolls his eyes, seemingly unimpressed by her defiance.

"Suit yourself," He replies with a dismissive shrug, "But don't expect me to save you next time."

With that, he turns to leave, leaving Mary with a mix of emotions swirling inside her. She doesn't need his help, but something about his cavalier attitude irks her.

As she continues on her way, her mind still lingering on the encounter, she spots movement out of the corner of her eye. Turning her head, she sees another figure, much larger and armed with a knife, approaching Frank from behind.

Without a second thought, Mary's instincts take over. She sprints toward them, her heart pounding in her chest. She knows she should walk away, that getting involved with someone like Frank could drag her back into a life she desperately wants to leave behind. But she can't let someone get hurt, not if she has the power to stop it.

As she reaches them, she pushes the man away from Frank with surprising strength, using her forearm to deflect his attack. The man stumbles back, surprised by the sudden intervention.

Frank raises an eyebrow at Mary, who stands between him and the attacker, her breaths coming fast and her heart racing.

"What the hell are you doing?" He demands, half amused and half annoyed.

"I didn't need your help," Mary snaps, her voice defiant as she faces the assailant.

Frank's eyes flicker with something she can't quite place—admiration, perhaps? But there's no time to analyze his expression as the attacker charges again.

Mary's training takes over, and she expertly dodges the knife, delivering a swift and precise strike that disarms the man. He falls to the ground, defeated and disoriented.

Frank smirks at Mary, his eyes glinting with a newfound respect.

"Not bad, kid," He comments, nodding approvingly.

Mary doesn't respond; she's already walking away, leaving Frank Castle and the life of violence he represents behind.

Weeks pass since Mary's chance encounter with the Punisher. She has managed to keep a low profile, avoiding any unnecessary entanglements and focusing on her determination to leave the life of violence behind. The city's energy still buzzes around her, but she's learning to find moments of peace in the quiet corners of her apartment, where she's surrounded by the comforting presence of Bubs.

One evening, as she takes Bubs for a leisurely stroll in Central Park, she spots a familiar figure in the distance. Frank stands there, a formidable yet intriguing silhouette against the setting sun. Mary's initial instinct is to turn and walk the other way, but something stops her.

"Hey, kid," Frank calls out as he approaches, once again using the term that infuriates her.

Mary's eyes narrow, and she takes a step closer, asserting her independence.

" Don't call me that," She utters.

" Fine. What would you like me to call you?" He huffs.

" My name."

" Which is?"

" Mary."

Frank's lips curl into a half-smile, seemingly amused by her feistiness.

"Alright... Mary," He concedes, his tone still tinged with sarcasm.

Despite her annoyance, Mary can't deny the strange pull she feels toward him. There's a familiarity in his eyes that she can't quite place, as if he understands more about her than she's willing to admit.

"You should be more careful," Frank adds, his expression growing serious, "I've seen the kind of people you attract."

"I can handle myself," Mary retorts, her voice firm.

"Clearly," Frank concedes, eyeing her curiously, "But why put yourself in those situations in the first place?"

Mary hesitates, unsure of how much she should reveal. She doesn't want Frank to know about her past or the reasons she attracts danger. She wants to leave that part of her life behind and live in peace.

"I'm just trying to live a normal life," Mary says, avoiding his gaze, "I don't want trouble."

Frank studies her for a moment, his eyes searching hers.

"Trouble has a way of finding people like us," He says cryptically.

Before Mary can respond, Bubs makes his presence known, bounding up to Frank and wagging his tail enthusiastically. Much to her surprise, Bubs seems to take an instant liking to Frank, nudging him with his nose as if to say, "Hey, you're not so bad after all."

Frank chuckles, scratching Bubs behind the ears.

"Well, well, look who's got good taste," He remarks, earning a playful bark from Bubs.

Mary can't help but smile at the sight. She's never seen Bubs warm up to anyone so quickly. Maybe there's more to Frank than meets the eye. But her smile quickly fades the moment Frank's eyes meet hers.

"You know, you should be grateful I was around that night," Frank says, his tone still teasing but with a hint of seriousness underneath.

Mary crosses her arms, feigning nonchalance.

"Grateful? Please, I didn't need your help."

"Oh, so you just happened to step in and save me from that knife-wielding lunatic out of the goodness of your heart?" Frank raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying her act.

"I didn't save you," Mary retorts, her voice dripping with sarcasm, "I just didn't want the hassle of explaining to the cops why there's a dead body lying in the middle of the alley."

Frank smirks, clearly amused by her quick wit.

"You've got quite the mouth on you, Mary," He remarks, "I like that."

Mary's cheeks flush slightly at the unexpected compliment, but she quickly brushes it off.

"Yeah, well, I'm not looking for your approval," She says, her guard back up.

"Fair enough," Frank replies, his tone softening, "Just be careful out there."

For a moment, Mary's resolve wavers. She knows he's right, but she doesn't want to admit it. She's tired of fighting, tired of running from her past. All she wants is to leave it all behind and start anew.

"I can take care of myself," She insists, trying to convince both herself and Frank.

Frank's gaze lingers on her, a mix of understanding and concern in his eyes.

"I don't doubt that," He says quietly.

Mary opens her mouth to protest, but her words catch in her throat. There's a vulnerability in Frank's gaze that mirrors her own, and for a brief moment, she feels a connection she can't explain.

With a nod, Frank turns to leave, leaving Mary with conflicting emotions swirling inside her. She watches him walk away, unsure of what to make of their encounter. She knows she should stay away, that getting involved with someone like Frank could drag her back into a life she desperately wants to leave behind.

But as she watches him disappear into the shadows, she can't deny the strange sense of comfort she feels in his presence. Maybe he's not as bad as she initially thought. Maybe, just maybe, he's someone who understands the darkness she carries inside her.

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