Right here and now, Frank trusts Matt to do what needs to be done. He doesn't really have a choice one way or the other, but no matter who's lying down right here, he knows Matt would do his damndest to save them. The guy's got a good heart, even if he can be a complete asshole most of the time...
Digging out the bullet is agony and Frank almost wishes he'd just pass out and make things easier for both of them, but adrenaline kicks in and keeps him awake, his breathing coming in faster now, a little harsher. The pained groans and grunts coming out of him are agony, but it's the most "awake" he's been this entire time. Fuck. Fuck, that fucking hurts.
Thankfully, Matt is methodical and not panicking (at least on the outside), able to clean and stitch the best he can, while Frank tries not to squirm. The pain of a home stitch is more bearable than the wound being dug into, and Frank's breathing evens out again, even as his hands start to tremble and feel cold. It doesn't get any better once he's in bed, still covered in his own blood, but at least he isn't actively bleeding out. Despite how loopy he feels, he tries to keep his eyes open and on Matt, following his blurry figure around the space. There's a pantry stocked with shelf-safe items and one small fridge with a few essentials, but Frank's too practical for anything beyond that.
"M-... Red," he says again, quieter this time, but focusing on him is helping keep Frank awake by sheer willpower. His body is shivering under the blanket. "Need water."
Water. Right. Matt feels around until he finds a cup and fills it with water, then he helps raise Frank up enough that he can drink it without spilling it everywhere. He fills the cup again and sets it next to the bed. Now, he thinks, he can start to relax. He won't fully come down until he knows Frank's fully in the clear, but it's a start.
Matt locks up the door and goes back to Frank, sitting on the floor with his back against the bed. He reaches up his hand to squeeze Frank's.
His skin is still covered with dried blood but the moment Matt takes his hand, Frank's fingers twitch in an effort to squeeze back. Pain is throbbing throughout his body but that's nothing compared to the frustration that this happened at all, and the anger the Irish pricks of all people got to him. Sloppy.
His breathing evens out but it's still not ideal, his heart still slower than usual, his lungs rattling. Eyes stay fixed on Matt and his tense body language, and Frank feels a different kind of guilt through the haze.
"Fuck..." He murmurs with a slurred grumble, wanting to say more, but his body is so exhausted all he can do is close his eyes and try squeezing fingers again with a weak grip.
When he finally does pass out it feels like a relief, purely because he has a dreamless rest.
Matt doesn't sleep for a while. He stays awake, listening to Frank and the sounds of his body. He'd never forgive himself if he let himself sleep and something happened. At some point he gets up and lays out a new set of bandages, along with what he'll need for some new stitches. He ends up sleeping at some point, waking up on high alert when he hears the sounds of Frank starting to come to.
"Hey -"
He gets up off the floor, going to replace the water from the night before and grab what he's determined are some sort of painkillers. He hopes they're the heavy duty kind, because Frank's gonna need them.
When he comes back, he grabs Frank's hand again, reassuring him that he's still there.
He definitely feels like shit when he wakes up, sore and aching all over, like life is giving him one big punch to the gut as a good morning. His head is still a little fuzzy but better than the state Matt found him in, just in pain more than anything. Pain is something he's used to though, something he can work with.
If anything, he looks at Matt with a mixture of relief and distress, fingers still weak when they cling back, but better than before.
"Hey," he finally responds, voice croaking and thick with pain. Even now, all he can say is: "You doin' alright?"
Matt huffs out a laugh, mostly relieved as the tension starts to slip away from him.
"I think I'm supposed to be asking you that."
He brushes his fingers through Frank's hair then coaxes him to sit up a bit, enough that he can gulp down the water and the painkillers.
"I'm gonna stitch up your side, okay? Then maybe I can get you into the shower before the new bandage goes on."
The smell of old, drying blood is thick in Matt's nostrils. It's coming off both of them, but he's only concerned about Frank.
"I think now we don't go into anything alone, either. They might have stacked up their defenses expecting both of us." How else could they get such an easy drop on Frank? "Maybe now they'll ease up. We can take advantage of their egos once you've recovered."
It's not a straight answer but kind of expected from Matt. It tells Frank more than enough anyway, and he knows he's given the other too much to worry about.
He grunts with discomfort when sitting upright but the pills will help, even on an empty stomach. He downs the glass of water and tilts his head back to the wall, eyes drifting shut.
"Definitely were armed better," he confirms while sounding annoyed and frustrated. Frank is usually fine with surprises but he's been holding back for Matt's sake, not going in the way he normally would. One explosive and the whole operation would be down, damn it.
"How the hell did you find me anyway?" he finally asks, fingers restlessly grasping at Matt's, voice quiet. "Pretty sure I was gonna bleed out for good there."
He sits on the edge of Frank's bed and shrugs, running a blood-stained hand through his own hair.
"I was heading from a late night at the office and heard what sounded like someone in trouble. I didn't realize it was you until I got closer. You really scared me there, Frank."
The sight of his own blood staining Matt's hands and clothes is disturbing, mostly because he's dressed down as Matt Murdock, no Devil in sight, even if they are one in the same. His memories of last night are a bit hazy but he knows Matt pulled at least one slug out of him, and he's been patched up better than Frank would've managed in that state. He's grateful for him.
"Guess someone up there is looking out for me," he says bitterly, though his thumb brushes over Matt's knuckles. "Or I'm a lucky piece of shit."
Lucky he's on a list of people Matt could recognize out of a crowd easily, anyway.
"I'm sorry," he adds quietly a moment later, and he actually means it. He turns his head away from Matt to stare up at a stain on the ceiling instead.
"I don't think you have anything to be sorry about."
Matt gets it. He understands guilt and regret in their line of work. He'd be feeling the same way if their roles were reversed, but he also knows Frank would be telling him the same thing.
He'll take the out for what it is, grateful, because yeah... Frank would do the same for him. Still, relying on others for help has never been easy for Frank, especially someone close to him he cares about.
"Yeah, a little," he says gruffly, knowing he should. "Maybe after you stitch me up, so I don't puke it back up again."
Whether or not he's serious is questionable, and yet...
Matt's not willing to take that risk, even if it might be just a joke. He gets the supplies along with some antiseptic, and carefully peels away the tape and bandaging he put on the night before.
"What the hell happened last night, anyway?"
Matt figures he'll make conversation to vaguely distract Frank from how bad this is going to be. It's good to have the information anyway. Some gauze gets soaked in the antiseptic and Matt presses it to the wound for a moment before he starts wiping the area to clean it up. Well. Clean it up as much as he can without seeing it.
Better to get this over with than wait for an infection, because then it'll really suck. He's too exhausted to offer to help, putting all his trust in Matt's hands in this moment, as he prepares himself mentally for the pain.
He bites his cheek and clenches his fists up in the bedding as Matt cleans the wound, the sting from that alone excruciating, but he puts up with it. The conversation will help but he needs a moment to not feel so loopy before responding.
"I found one of their dealers," he explains, his voice low and strained, taking deep breaths. "Wasn't planning on a full ambush. I was going to confront the guy, but there was a deal going on. It's like they were expecting me. I was expecting maybe five assholes at the most, but it's like half the goon squad was in that shithole."
He bites his tongue against saying he should've been there. If he was there, he'd have known how many were in there. But he knows it'll fall on deaf ears. Frank will probably say it's better Matt wasn't there, and neither of them have the energy for an argument right now.
"So we have to take them by surprise."
Easier said than done, maybe, but Matt might be willing to let himself go a little bit when they run in with the Irish again.
"Make 'em think they won, I guess." He grits his teeth again, not liking the idea entirely, but what choice does he have in this state? Of course he will push himself too hard and ignore what hurts for the sake of getting shit done, but he won't be at full capacity for at least a couple days. His own fault for underestimating the new Irish assholes, but he'll have to just deal with it.
Frank sucks in another deep breath and then lets it out with a harsh sound, like he's hyping himself up for how much this is going to suck.
"Now or never," he answers, wishing he had a drink or something first, but not a good idea on an empty stomach and pills in his system.
"You're too good at this," he continues just to talk and ignore the stinging pain. "You make cleaner stitches than I've seen from marines."
Matt feels carefully along the wound. He can only imagine what it must actually look like, but he'll be glad once it's closed up.
"I used to fix up my dad after fights. Got used to steady hands and how to do it to make the least ugly scar."
There's a flicker of a smile on his face, even though he knows this is shitty for Frank. This is their lives, though. No urgent care clinics, no hospitals, which means they have to make due with what they have and that doesn't include anything to numb the pain.
"Once you get your energy back you can clean up and we can redress it."
It's not a pretty sight for certain, a deep gash that'll probably scar ugly, but what else is new? Both of them are accustomed to ugly scars, even if Frank thinks Matt makes his own look pretty by default. Asshole.
The mention of his dad perks Frank's ears though and he takes that to heart, even as he's currently being stabbed without any numbing. Matt doesn't talk about his family much, though Frank knows snippets from over the years. "Didn't think you'd ever use that skill for a bastard like me instead, I bet."
He hisses through teeth at a particularly difficult stab, tearing his hand into the bedding, but he doesn't move otherwise, in control despite the pain.
"You- You need to clean up too," he responds after a moment, voice strained again. "I'm- fuck- all over you."
"Normally I like when you say that. Maybe just not under these circumstances."
He lets a cheeky smirk cross his face, and he leans in to press a grateful and firm kiss to Frank's lips. Matt can only imagine what he must look like, but he's sure it's not anywhere near how bad Frank probably looks right now.
"I'll take care of it before I go."
And he doesn't intend to go anywhere any time soon, not until he's sure Frank's in the clear.
God damn it, he really ran face-first into that one, yet it's so unexpected it pulls a laugh out of him. Ow that hurts though, and Frank groans in between chuckles, letting out a low sound of frustration amidst the amusement.
"Don't- ugh- Don't make me laugh, asshole."
More deep, ragged breaths, but he's getting calmer and calmer as the pain numbs him in a different way, getting used to the sting, something familiar.
"Gonna need your help getting in there anyway," he says after a minute, regarding the shower. "May as well stay."
He feels bad making Frank laugh, but not too bad. The last few hours haven't been all that great, and Matt needs to lighten it up.
"Eat something first."
Matt gives Frank another small kiss before he goes to look through the cans and pouches of what Frank has. He finds something that smells like canned tuna, which will at least give Frank some much needed protein.
"Try this. And remind me to bring you some vegetables some day."
Frank's "kitchen" is a sad state of organized rations more than tools for a proper meal, but he's always been this way. Right now, he'll eat just about anything Matt picks out, and tuna is something easy and nourishing at least. He manages to eat most of it and gets some more water in him, so that's at least something. His diet definitely needs more of a variety.
Slowly, he drags himself to haul legs over the side of the bed, just to change positions and sit more upright. Pain blooms from his side and leg but it isn't as bad as before, the pills starting to gradually kick in. Half his clothes are ripped or hanging off of him, and he tosses his bloodied vest to the floor to deal with later. The entire bed needs to be stripped and changed, soaked in his blood.
"Thanks, Red." He looks up and over to him, once again wondering how the fuck they got here. "Might be slow for a couple days. Try not to have too much fun without me."
Matt's reckless, but he's not about to rush into anything alone now that he knows how Frank ended up. He can at least gain some information for them in the mean time, come back to Frank, figure out a plan.
"There must be something bigger than illegal weapon dealing. They wouldn't invest that much man-power if it weren't something worth the effort and money."
His wheels are turning but he tries not to get ahead of himself. The intel will keep him busy for at least a couple of days and he can stay out of trouble until then.
"Drugs, maybe. Or some other cargo." Something more precious. There's a tightness to his voice at the thought, tense, and a lingering frustration that he can't get back out there right way the way he wants.
He reaches for a table near the bed to lean onto, trying to stand on his own without asking for help, because he's a stubborn asshole. Getting onto his feet after so much blood loss is a trip though, leaving him dizzy, and he groans as he staggers and grabs the edge with both hands so he doesn't fall.
Matt's at his side quickly, giving Frank something more solid than a table to lean on.
"The last thing I need is you slicing open your head because you passed out."
But he's not going to force Frank back into bed, because he knows better. Frank's just going to have to put up with the fact that Matt's not letting him walk anywhere without him.
It's expected and Frank is honestly grateful that Matt is here, but he can't keep revealing as much or else he'll start feeling frayed at the edges. It's bad enough Matt found him half dead at all. Still, Frank understands when he's a little in over his head and winds up leaning into the other heavily.
"Just... need to take a leak. And to wash some of this blood off," he sighs. "I'll be fine once I get there."
Just, you know, he's very unstable right now. Begrudgingly, he puts an arm around Matt for support, not prideful enough in the moment to deny the help.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Digging out the bullet is agony and Frank almost wishes he'd just pass out and make things easier for both of them, but adrenaline kicks in and keeps him awake, his breathing coming in faster now, a little harsher. The pained groans and grunts coming out of him are agony, but it's the most "awake" he's been this entire time. Fuck. Fuck, that fucking hurts.
Thankfully, Matt is methodical and not panicking (at least on the outside), able to clean and stitch the best he can, while Frank tries not to squirm. The pain of a home stitch is more bearable than the wound being dug into, and Frank's breathing evens out again, even as his hands start to tremble and feel cold. It doesn't get any better once he's in bed, still covered in his own blood, but at least he isn't actively bleeding out. Despite how loopy he feels, he tries to keep his eyes open and on Matt, following his blurry figure around the space. There's a pantry stocked with shelf-safe items and one small fridge with a few essentials, but Frank's too practical for anything beyond that.
"M-... Red," he says again, quieter this time, but focusing on him is helping keep Frank awake by sheer willpower. His body is shivering under the blanket. "Need water."
no subject
Matt locks up the door and goes back to Frank, sitting on the floor with his back against the bed. He reaches up his hand to squeeze Frank's.
"I'll be here all night. You'll be fine."
no subject
His breathing evens out but it's still not ideal, his heart still slower than usual, his lungs rattling. Eyes stay fixed on Matt and his tense body language, and Frank feels a different kind of guilt through the haze.
"Fuck..." He murmurs with a slurred grumble, wanting to say more, but his body is so exhausted all he can do is close his eyes and try squeezing fingers again with a weak grip.
When he finally does pass out it feels like a relief, purely because he has a dreamless rest.
no subject
"Hey -"
He gets up off the floor, going to replace the water from the night before and grab what he's determined are some sort of painkillers. He hopes they're the heavy duty kind, because Frank's gonna need them.
When he comes back, he grabs Frank's hand again, reassuring him that he's still there.
no subject
If anything, he looks at Matt with a mixture of relief and distress, fingers still weak when they cling back, but better than before.
"Hey," he finally responds, voice croaking and thick with pain. Even now, all he can say is: "You doin' alright?"
no subject
"I think I'm supposed to be asking you that."
He brushes his fingers through Frank's hair then coaxes him to sit up a bit, enough that he can gulp down the water and the painkillers.
"I'm gonna stitch up your side, okay? Then maybe I can get you into the shower before the new bandage goes on."
The smell of old, drying blood is thick in Matt's nostrils. It's coming off both of them, but he's only concerned about Frank.
"I think now we don't go into anything alone, either. They might have stacked up their defenses expecting both of us." How else could they get such an easy drop on Frank? "Maybe now they'll ease up. We can take advantage of their egos once you've recovered."
no subject
He grunts with discomfort when sitting upright but the pills will help, even on an empty stomach. He downs the glass of water and tilts his head back to the wall, eyes drifting shut.
"Definitely were armed better," he confirms while sounding annoyed and frustrated. Frank is usually fine with surprises but he's been holding back for Matt's sake, not going in the way he normally would. One explosive and the whole operation would be down, damn it.
"How the hell did you find me anyway?" he finally asks, fingers restlessly grasping at Matt's, voice quiet. "Pretty sure I was gonna bleed out for good there."
no subject
He sits on the edge of Frank's bed and shrugs, running a blood-stained hand through his own hair.
"I was heading from a late night at the office and heard what sounded like someone in trouble. I didn't realize it was you until I got closer. You really scared me there, Frank."
no subject
"Guess someone up there is looking out for me," he says bitterly, though his thumb brushes over Matt's knuckles. "Or I'm a lucky piece of shit."
Lucky he's on a list of people Matt could recognize out of a crowd easily, anyway.
"I'm sorry," he adds quietly a moment later, and he actually means it. He turns his head away from Matt to stare up at a stain on the ceiling instead.
no subject
Matt gets it. He understands guilt and regret in their line of work. He'd be feeling the same way if their roles were reversed, but he also knows Frank would be telling him the same thing.
"Do you think you can stomach eating something?"
no subject
"Yeah, a little," he says gruffly, knowing he should. "Maybe after you stitch me up, so I don't puke it back up again."
Whether or not he's serious is questionable, and yet...
no subject
Matt's not willing to take that risk, even if it might be just a joke. He gets the supplies along with some antiseptic, and carefully peels away the tape and bandaging he put on the night before.
"What the hell happened last night, anyway?"
Matt figures he'll make conversation to vaguely distract Frank from how bad this is going to be. It's good to have the information anyway. Some gauze gets soaked in the antiseptic and Matt presses it to the wound for a moment before he starts wiping the area to clean it up. Well. Clean it up as much as he can without seeing it.
no subject
He bites his cheek and clenches his fists up in the bedding as Matt cleans the wound, the sting from that alone excruciating, but he puts up with it. The conversation will help but he needs a moment to not feel so loopy before responding.
"I found one of their dealers," he explains, his voice low and strained, taking deep breaths. "Wasn't planning on a full ambush. I was going to confront the guy, but there was a deal going on. It's like they were expecting me. I was expecting maybe five assholes at the most, but it's like half the goon squad was in that shithole."
no subject
"So we have to take them by surprise."
Easier said than done, maybe, but Matt might be willing to let himself go a little bit when they run in with the Irish again.
"Ready for the stitches?"
no subject
Frank sucks in another deep breath and then lets it out with a harsh sound, like he's hyping himself up for how much this is going to suck.
"Now or never," he answers, wishing he had a drink or something first, but not a good idea on an empty stomach and pills in his system.
"You're too good at this," he continues just to talk and ignore the stinging pain. "You make cleaner stitches than I've seen from marines."
no subject
Matt feels carefully along the wound. He can only imagine what it must actually look like, but he'll be glad once it's closed up.
"I used to fix up my dad after fights. Got used to steady hands and how to do it to make the least ugly scar."
There's a flicker of a smile on his face, even though he knows this is shitty for Frank. This is their lives, though. No urgent care clinics, no hospitals, which means they have to make due with what they have and that doesn't include anything to numb the pain.
"Once you get your energy back you can clean up and we can redress it."
no subject
The mention of his dad perks Frank's ears though and he takes that to heart, even as he's currently being stabbed without any numbing. Matt doesn't talk about his family much, though Frank knows snippets from over the years. "Didn't think you'd ever use that skill for a bastard like me instead, I bet."
He hisses through teeth at a particularly difficult stab, tearing his hand into the bedding, but he doesn't move otherwise, in control despite the pain.
"You- You need to clean up too," he responds after a moment, voice strained again. "I'm- fuck- all over you."
no subject
He lets a cheeky smirk cross his face, and he leans in to press a grateful and firm kiss to Frank's lips. Matt can only imagine what he must look like, but he's sure it's not anywhere near how bad Frank probably looks right now.
"I'll take care of it before I go."
And he doesn't intend to go anywhere any time soon, not until he's sure Frank's in the clear.
no subject
"Don't- ugh- Don't make me laugh, asshole."
More deep, ragged breaths, but he's getting calmer and calmer as the pain numbs him in a different way, getting used to the sting, something familiar.
"Gonna need your help getting in there anyway," he says after a minute, regarding the shower. "May as well stay."
no subject
"Eat something first."
Matt gives Frank another small kiss before he goes to look through the cans and pouches of what Frank has. He finds something that smells like canned tuna, which will at least give Frank some much needed protein.
"Try this. And remind me to bring you some vegetables some day."
no subject
Slowly, he drags himself to haul legs over the side of the bed, just to change positions and sit more upright. Pain blooms from his side and leg but it isn't as bad as before, the pills starting to gradually kick in. Half his clothes are ripped or hanging off of him, and he tosses his bloodied vest to the floor to deal with later. The entire bed needs to be stripped and changed, soaked in his blood.
"Thanks, Red." He looks up and over to him, once again wondering how the fuck they got here. "Might be slow for a couple days. Try not to have too much fun without me."
no subject
Matt's reckless, but he's not about to rush into anything alone now that he knows how Frank ended up. He can at least gain some information for them in the mean time, come back to Frank, figure out a plan.
"There must be something bigger than illegal weapon dealing. They wouldn't invest that much man-power if it weren't something worth the effort and money."
His wheels are turning but he tries not to get ahead of himself. The intel will keep him busy for at least a couple of days and he can stay out of trouble until then.
no subject
He reaches for a table near the bed to lean onto, trying to stand on his own without asking for help, because he's a stubborn asshole. Getting onto his feet after so much blood loss is a trip though, leaving him dizzy, and he groans as he staggers and grabs the edge with both hands so he doesn't fall.
no subject
Matt's at his side quickly, giving Frank something more solid than a table to lean on.
"The last thing I need is you slicing open your head because you passed out."
But he's not going to force Frank back into bed, because he knows better. Frank's just going to have to put up with the fact that Matt's not letting him walk anywhere without him.
"What do you need?"
no subject
"Just... need to take a leak. And to wash some of this blood off," he sighs. "I'll be fine once I get there."
Just, you know, he's very unstable right now. Begrudgingly, he puts an arm around Matt for support, not prideful enough in the moment to deny the help.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)