1. Frank Castle is standing over the gravestones of his family, arms hanging loosely by his sides, a handgun clasped in his right hand. It's a gloomy, fairly archetypal day for a visit to the cemetery; overcast, threatening rain. His jacket is zipped up; the insignia that strikes fear into the hearts of criminals is hidden - this is not the appropriate place for it.
It's difficult, isn't it?
2. Frank turns his head; an old, frail looking man, visibly struggling to remain upright even with his walking stick, is approaching him, a sad smile on his face.
3. Frank, not one to engage in such discussions, refocuses back to the gravestones. But Henry Travers doesn't take the hint and takes up a position beside Frank, held up precariously by his walking stick.
She's been gone seven years now, and still I wake up every morning expecting to see her by my side.
I still find myself making tea for two.
4. We're looking at the graves; at the gravestones of Maria Elizabeth Castle, Lisa Barbara Castle and Frank David Castle Junior.
We never had children.
Tried, sure; a number of times. I suppose it just wasn't meant to be.
But we had each other and that's all that mattered, and then one day...
5. On Henry; he's tearing up at the memories.
One day she just left me.
Passed away in her sleep.
I said Good Night to her and when I woke up there was no Good Morning, there was nothing, there was just...
6. Henry's looking at Frank, who has remained stoic throughout this conversation.
But see, I'm an old man.
You, you're young enough to find someone again. Young enough to find a few more years of happiness.
You don't want to live your life alone, son.
Not if you can help it.
7. Tight on Frank. Cold, emotionless.
I'm not alone.
8. He holds up the gun for Henry to see.
I've got all the company I need right here.