He held the gun in his hand, his finger lingering on the trigger before he was thrown to the ground. It was on him gurgling, its unhinged jaw snapping with blood lust inches away from his face. Matt held it back, his heart pumping with adrenaline. Giving him the strength he didn't have. He sucked in a sharp breath, trying to scream to fight against the panic blurring his senses. His mind screams at him he's going to die. One bite is all it takes, one freaking bite.

Before he could blink, blood speckled his face. There Frank stood, pulling the knife out of the walker's head with a squelching sound. Matt let out a panicked yelp, shoving the carcass off him. His stomach churned at the smell, the rotting flesh, the blood, its brains all on him.

" Red!" Frank knelt next to him, his hands on him only making his breaths come out quicker and faster. "Did it get you? Red!" He couldn't breathe, it felt like someone stole his lungs. He gripped at his chest, trying to dig through the fabric, tear through the skin, to breathe. Frank was talking, trying to get Matt to let go of the clump of fabric balled in his fist. "No no- come on Red not here not now." Frank's hands were on Matt's head, his fingers rubbing through his hair. "Breath, Red breath."

Matt's eyes darted towards the sounds of the walkers a few feet away, to the ones across the street, to those on the edge of Hell's kitchen. Frank's voice tugged him back. Matt's hand was now on Frank's heart, he didn't remember it being there.

" Don't listen to them, listen to my heart. My heart. Focus Red."

Matt nodded, clenching his eyes, he listened to Frank's frantic heart thumping wildly in his chest, almost as fast as his. He sucked in a shaky breath.

"Good. Good. Keep going." Frank let him go, leaving him there as he took more of them down, their bodies hitting the pavement. Matt kept focusing on Frank's heart through it all. Once Frank was done, Matt's breaths were less shaky and deeper. "Red?" Frank's hand found him again. Matt shoved him off trying to hide his lingering panic but falling. " I–- I'm fine!"

Once Frank saw Matt was okay his gentleness left, replaced by the Frank Red knew. He picked up Matt's gun. "What, the hell was that!" He yanked him up on his shaky feet. "Why'd you hold back! Why didn't you take the shot!" He gripped his shirt collar, giving him a sharp jolt."It's not human. That thing isn't a person anymore! What's it gonna take for you to fucking understand that!"

Matt stilled in his grasp, his head tilting away from Frank in shame. Frank hissed, clenching his jaw, stopping the next wave of fury-laced words. He let Matt go, Frustration oozing out of his clenched teeth." We're going back." He turned and started walking.

Matt's face crumbled."No no, Frank, I can keep going I swear we came this far!" They were close, not close enough he knew, Manhattan was still a walk away but dammit he could almost taste it." I'm not turning back."

Frank jolted back around until Matt could feel his hot breath against his face. "You almost got yourself killed! We're going back!"

"I can keep going!" I can shoot them. I can!"

Frank dragged him by his collar, Matt squirmed in his grasp but Frank's grip didn't falter. "Let go!" Matt tugged against him, his feet sliding on the pavement. He grunted in frustration, his arms failing to exert any force, his legs already buckling under him.

" Frank?" He could smell them, the walkers one was close by no– they were getting closer to it. It growled limping towards them.

" Go on," Frank said, steadying him. His gun was placed in his shaky hands."Take the shot."

Matt's hands curled around it, taking in a sharp breath, the feeling of the cold metal against his hands making his skin crawl. He needed to do this, what if Karen needed him, or Foggy. How could he keep them safe? Focusing on the sound he closed his eyes. He could hear its feet scraping against the pavement, its jaw snapping as its groans got louder.

His heart hammering against his sternum, and Frank's heart next to him. Opening his eyes. He raised the gun, finger on the trigger perfectly positioned for the bullet to rip through its skull. Still, he froze, the walker now six feet away.

"What's the holdup Red, pull the trigger, and will keep going." Matt sucked in a breath." Take the fucking shot Red!"

Matt shook his head, the gun wavering in his hand. It's not human, it's not human. All the traces of what was once human are gone. The walker as if smelling his hesitance lunged at him. A gunshot echoed as Frank put it down. Blood and chunks of brain splatter against the pavement.

Matt's stomach lurched; he couldn't hold it in as bile rose up his throat. The scent of its rotting flesh and blood all burned in the back of his nose. He hunched over his stomach lurching as he puked, mostly dry heaving with how empty it was. His eyes pricked with tears at the sick aftertaste in his mouth. Yellow bile dripping down his chin.

" Bullshit," Frank breathed.

Matt's legs kept shaking as he wiped the bile from his lips. Cursing his sensitive nose. Willing himself not to break down with how fucking useless he felt. He could handle the gashes, the taste of his blood, and getting beat to a pulp being Daredevil. He could take all the hits and get back up, but when it came to a person's brain splattering across the pavement it snapped something inside him. For the first time making him want to stay down. For good.

He turned his head towards Frank still heaving, he felt his eyes on him. He felt naked, his glasses not there to cover his eyes. He couldn't interpret the ways Frank's expression could be scrunched in ridicule or pity. It made him feel vulnerable, his thoughts turning against him trying to fill all the possible blanks that Frank's wavering heart couldn't be answering. He waited for Frank's fury, but it never came.

"Come on, we need to keep moving."

Unfaced, without a twinge of hesitation Frank kept putting one foot in front of the other. Taking down any remaining walkers in their paths with as much ease as swatting a fly. An ease Matt envied.

They walked deep into the kitchen's empty streets. It was filled with broken signs, cars with lifeless engines, and Graffiti, echoing the cries of their damned city and those who once were. A city once lit ablaze with lights and filled with life; is now quiet. He led Frank away from the growls of nearby crowds, leading them into areas with fewer walkers. They found themselves on a deserted street, a deserted apartment complex three stories up. Frank broke down the door scouting the rooms, but Matt put a hand on him, stopping him.

"There are twenty rooms that are cleared throughout the building. We don't have to kill them... Not now."

Frank sighed," lead the way."

They made it to the second floor of the building before having found one of the clear rooms to settle down in. Frank kills a few walkers while taking the stairs, Matt wincing at the sounds of the putty-like sound the knife made.

They stepped in their bags empty again and were greeted by pictures of what was once a family filling the walls, dirty dishes in the sink that would never get washed, video game systems, and toys that would never get played.

Frank pushed the sofa In front of the door, wiring it shut with cables from the game systems. Once satisfied, he began rummaging through the saved supplies Frank collected on the last trip out. While Matt dumped himself on the sofa his gaze unfocused on the floor.

Matt couldn't come to terms with killing them. He'd force himself to believe they were long dead, yet having the gun wrapped around his hands felt wrong. He felt like a killer, he grew afraid the line between the dead and living would soon become blurred with how much ease came with pulling a trigger. Effortless, less bloody, maybe he could use it to trick himself into believing his hands weren't bloody. Still Frank allowed him to have the gun, despite being low on ammo and their attraction to sound. It was better than stabbing a hole through their skull, yet, he couldn't urge himself to pull the trigger.

For them, the days were starting to blur into each other; becoming foggy in their memories. The life they knew before all hell broke loose slowly slipped away, a life they could never have again. It had to be around November because the cool air outside was getting stronger. Making supply hunts more difficult, the only good it did was make the walker's movements more rigid and slow.

They were stuck together, the last remaining in Hell's kitchen the rest having fled long ago. When the streets were filled with the dead, blocking them in. Matt wasn't giving up on Karen and Foggy. They were out there somewhere, maybe they evacuated with the rest; somewhere safe.

He was thrown out of his thoughts catching a wet rag Frank threw. He began Wiping the blood and filth off his face as Frank sat next to him, the couch creaking under his weight. His hand offered a crumbled-up granola bar. When Matt didn't move to take it Frank nudged him. Matt shook his head.

" You need to eat something."

" Not hungry."

" Tough, I ain't asking. I didn't bust my ass getting this for you to starve."

Matt took the offering. His hands played with the foil, trying to wrap his mind around everything. It felt unreal. Frank opened his and started eating, unfazed by the blood that still covered his coat. After a moment of silence, Matt spoke."Doesn't it bother you? We are desecrating people's corpses, shoving knives and bullets into their skulls. It's not right."

" Well, they should have stayed dead then."

Matt laughed, but it carried no humor, his tone going dark and bitter."Yeah, I guess this is nothing new for you anyway. It's just another day for you, isn't it? What was I thinking, talking to you as if you were a normal person?" He was sitting next to a damn sociopath who also kept saving his sorry ass. Frank stayed quiet, unfazed.

Taking a bite Matt's stomach churned. This is the only thing he's eaten in days. He squeezed the granola bar in his hand." Frank, about– about what happened. It won't happen again- I just. I need to be out there searching for them."

"I'll keep an eye out for them."

Matt's grip tightened," you can't keep me here, Frank. I'm capable of doing this I just need–" Matt paused, grunting in frustration.

"You ain't capable of shit Red!" Frank crumbled the wrapper," You almost got yourself killed today. Let's say you found the counselor and Karen. Walkers come on around the corner and you hesitate, someone gets bit. Because you couldn't take the shot and they turn. You gonna put them down! Are you going to take responsibility and-"

"That won't happen!"Matt's hands curled into fists, squeezing them so hard his knuckles turned white.

" Yeah, it will. Unless you get them before they get you. You pull the trigger Red! Why is it so damn hard for you?"

"What if you were Frank! What if you got bit!"

Frank didn't hesitate," Then you put a bullet in me, and you keep moving… I need to be able to count on you to have my back out there. If you can't do that you need to prepare for the consequences." Frank stood up," I'm not letting you go out there when you keep falling apart."

"We don't have time for this!"

"Not until you get your damn shit together."

Frank walked away leaving Matt alone to his thoughts. Eventually, Matt walked upstairs shutting the door. A grunt of frustration left his lips as he bashed his fist into the wall, it went through. He yanked it out, throwing everything off the dresser.

"Don't fuck this place up, Red!" He heard Frank howler from downstairs.

Matt growled, throwing the rest of the dresser down."How the fuck is that Frank! It's already a shithole anyway, all of it!" He sat on the floor, his head on the bed frame, heaving angry breaths. Fucking Frank treating him like a damn kid. He banged his head against the frame, cursing himself for being so damn weak. For being so damn useless. Because dammit Frank was right.

Frank should have just let him die. Realizing how hard his jaw was clenched he breathed trying to soothe himself, loosening his jaw and relieving his tensing muscles. He finally registered a faint throb of pain from his knuckles. He was in the kid's room, an adolescent boy's by the sound of the dangling aircraft hanging from the ceiling. The desk is covered in papers, journals, and drawings.

Heavy books scattered on the floor, he picked one up running his fingers over the glossy cover. A football at his foot's side, he nudged it lightly. The room was a mess, it reminded him of his room as a kid, studying like a devil to make his dad proud. College days with Foggy, then late nights at the office with him and Karen. One thought sent him spiraling to another, slowly calming himself with pleasant memories of when things were normal.

They all came crashing at the slamming of the door downstairs. Frank mumbled faint curses under his breath as his footsteps got further away. "Yeah, that's right leave, see if I fucking care!" Matt screamed, but by then Frank was long gone. It weighed on him, he was alone with those things outside. He could hear their jaws grinding; snapping; moaning and growling. A whimper escaped his throat as he hugged his legs to his chest. Covering his ears, begging for them to stop as tears pricked his eyes. Praying they would stop. They didn't.

He sat there, for hours curling into himself as the sun began to set outside; its warm light seeping in. Frank still wasn't back, he was beginning to get worried. What's he thinking staying out this late. Matt nudged his head out from the crook of his arm, uncurling himself.

He got up and slid his hands onto the window opening it. Greeted with a cool breeze the wind flowing through his hair. He stepped out, sitting on the fire escape. The wind comforted him in the way it made him shiver, the way it made him feel alive. He breathed, waiting.

Maybe Frank had left for good, or what if he was dead? Panic built up inside of him until he heard footsteps approaching from the distance. Franks. He came back carrying the scent of rotting flesh and gunpowder; making Matt's nose scrunch up. He sank in relief, letting out a breath he didn't know he was holding. For the first time, it was good to see Frank.

Frank saw Matt from the distance, He couldn't help but mumble in annoyance as he wasn't wearing his coat. "That you Red? Get down from there you're gonna get yourself sick," he said entering and shutting the door behind him.

Matt didn't budge, he could hear Frank settling downstairs checking the supplies. By the sound of his bag ruffling, it went better this time. Before Frank came up he'd have cleared the entire building of walkers. The building was now fully theirs and the remaining dead carcasses that called it home.

" Red brought food. You gonna come down?"

Matt didn't answer, He heard Frank mutter under his breath giving up. He turned on the sink, running his hands through the water. Surprised it still worked, it wouldn't be long before it stopped. Matt could smell copper from his bloody cut-up hands. After wrapping them he ate alone downstairs before it went quiet again.

Since that day Frank let him be. Not a day went by that Frank wasn't out doing something. He'd still tell Matt when he got back and when he'd leave. Those were the only times he'd hear Frank's voice, though he'd never respond. Sometimes hearing Frank stumbling through the door silently cursing, and at times screaming in his sleep.

Matt wouldn't get much sleep either, the knot in his chest clutching painfully at his screams and whimpers. Something more terrifying than the walkers outside haunting him, Matt didn't have to think hard on what.

Despite it, all Matt found comfort in hearing Frank shuffling outside his door, In feeling his presence. Knowing another living breathing human being was with him, that he wasn't alone. Even if it was Frank.

As the days passed Matt's mind felt more numb, no longer going to the fire escape. He took solace in the empty bed, shutting out all thoughts of the previous owner as the covers weighed his body down. During the days Frank left him alone made his heart beat faster and all the walkers outside grow louder. The hairs on the back of his neck stood, imagining their jaws on his neck clamping down.

He'd have Nightmares of Foggy and Karen begging for his help as the walkers surrounded them, but he just stood there, wide-eyed with his legs shaking under him as they got ripped apart, their screams terrorizing him but what hurt more was their looks of betrayal. He'd try to scream to cry out, but his throat was always clamped shut. Then their hands would be on him, pulling him down as he screamed hoping he'd wake up before their teeth sunk into him. With each waking moment, he would cry, hating himself for being so selfish, so weak. When they needed him.

How he's failed them like he failed his city.

He'd try to keep his eyes open but each time sleep would tug them shut. He'd end up right where the dream left off. He could feel himself wasting away, losing track of the time.

Weeks passed until Frank finally had enough of his damn moping. The kid hasn't stepped out of the room not once, not even while he was out. The moment Red no longer sat on the fire escape, was the last fucking straw.

" Red." Frank knocked, "We need to talk."

"Go away Frank," Matt muttered, his voice small and raspy.

Frank sighed." I'm coming in." The door opened bouncing against the dresser. Frank's eyebrows furrowed, his eyes settling on the dresser blocking the entrance. He pushed harder, the door finally opening. Once his eyes skimmed past the mess on the floor and the hole in the wall.

They settled on the bump under the covers facing the wall.

" You just gonna keep laying there?"

"Isn't this what you wanted," Red mumbled from under the covers.

"I wanted you to get your shit together," Frank said, tugging the covers off him. Matt tugged back, the covers still slipping from his fingers. Red was almost skin and bones, bags forming under his eyes despite never leaving the bed. He looked near death and too fucking small for Frank's liking.

Matt growled, " My shit is together! I'm out of your way, supply hunts are going better. What more do you want from me, Frank!"

" Get up, I want you to eat something first. Then we head out. I gotta show you something."

"You gonna throw me at another walker?" Red deadpanned.

" Something like that."

Matt scoffed, shaking his head."There's no point, were as good as dead can't you see how fucking pointless this all is."

"Don't start this shit Red, don't you start."

"Start what Frank? Being realistic. You see those things out there, You go about like it's just another fucking day, like we're not in Hell. Dead people are roaming the streets; and I'm what- supposed to go on living like nothing?"

"What do you want me to do, Red? Want me to bitch and moan about it?"

"Yes, Frank!" Matt sat up."That's exactly what I want. At least pretend to be scared, act like you're not a sociopath who gets his fix from smashing people's heads open. Be human!"

"I am scared," Frank said, his voice gruff with emotion." You don't think I know what those things were?" Frank's heart jolted against his chest. "I saw damn kids, Red. Kids turned into monsters. They're already dead. Nothing more we can do for them but lay them to rest."

Matt's face twisted in frustration," You don't hear them! I hear all of them, crowds of them, hovering all over Hell's Kitchen, I hear them all Groening. Every corner; every building. Every night I hear them. Not a second goes by I don't. Will never win, we could never-" Matt's breaths quickened, willing himself to not cover his ears.

"So what now. You gonna leave Karen and Nelson out there because we're outnumbered?"

Matt stilled."What if- what if they're already dead?"

"Nah, Karen's strong. Nelson's strong! You don't remember all the shit you put them through? What makes you think they can't handle this."

"Frank, I don't even remember the last time I heard another human being. What if we're the only ones left." Matt paused, gripping the bedsheets." I'd rather- I'd rather die than be ripped apart by those- those things.``

Frank's heart skipped a beat. "This is what you've been doing. Starving yourself?" Frank's voice hardened but Matt could detect the hurt, the fear. It made Matt physically wince." You wanna die that bad Red!" Frank pulled out his gun, tossing it on the bed."Go ahead."

Frank watched Red turn to him cautiously then towards the gun like he was playing a sick joke on him. He snatched the gun hissing like it burnt to hold it in his hands. He was giving him what he wanted, a chance to end things here. By his own hands, Not by a walker's jaw piercing through his skin. Still, the moment Red pressed the gun under his jaw with heavy breaths Frank did everything to keep his hammering heart still. Not wanting Red to hear. Not seeming to notice Red clicked the safety off. Muttering a series of words under his breaths Frank realized what they were.

God forgive me. God forgive me, God forgive me. He kept repeating over and over as if he wasn't there. He knew if he pulled the trigger he'd be damned, if he didn't he'd still be damned. The kid's grip faltered, his face scrunching up in pain, his resolution withering away. "No,no! Come on," he pressed the gun deeper, shutting his eyes.

Frank knew that look, the way the gun shook in his hands. He held that same look, pressing a gun to his temple when he came home and Marie and the kids weren't there. He knew it all too well, like a memory playing out in front of him. Red growled in anger, a choked-out sob left his throat dropping the gun. It clattered to the floor and Frank's heartbeat settled. The kid was crying.

Frank sat next to him, the bed creaking under him. He pulled the kid into the crane of his neck. Red let out a muffled growl trying to shove him off, to loosen Frank's grip on him. The kid was too weak, with a final hitched breath the sobs stopped as he sank into him. Frank pulled him closer, squeezing the back of his neck, trying to urge the kid to let it all out. Red let out a strangled breath but he kept quiet, the tears streaming silently into Frank's shirt, seeping through the fabric. "Scr-screw you, Frank." Red choked out.

"Yeah," Frank said, rubbing the kid's back in soothing circles. In a familiar soothing motion, he'd do it for his kids. He shook away those thoughts, pressing Red closer to his side."I got you. I got you."

Frank lost track as they sat there, Red pressed against his side his head now deep into his collarbone. His crying stopped long ago, now silent except for the remaining sniffle and hiccups. He looked down at Red, curled up to him making himself smaller. Red, the same kid that used to run around in red pajamas punching men into comas, the same kid able to take him in a fight where so many couldn't. The same Red that took on the Kingpin. Now practically clinging to him as the world falls apart around them.

One thing was certain in Frank's heart, the kid wasn't going to regret this. He wouldn't let those fucking bastards touch him, not if he could help it. Frank shuffled, so he could see Matt's face. his hand rubbing through Matt's messy hair." Come on. Let's head downstairs and get you something to eat."

Matt shook his head, a soft whimper in the back of his throat.

"I-I can hear them, Frank. There gathering closer ther-"

"It's alright," He pulled Matt closer." They can't come here. I won't let them."

Red must have known it wasn't a promise anyone could keep, but he went slack in his grasp, easing into him anyway. Trusting him to keep him safe, to keep them away. He helped Red up, guiding him downstairs. He was greeted with boxes of canned goods scattered everywhere, prepackaged snacks, and clothes close to his size.

Red didn't eat that night, sleep took hold of him before Frank could press him any further. He was curled up on the bed again. Looking at his sleeping face Red looked more at ease, the pain and fear cleared from his features. Frank sat there for a while, watching his chest rise and fall with each breath. He ran his fingers through his hair, Red leaned into the touch drool going down his chin. It made a sad smile tug at Frank's lips. "You need a haircut."

Frank made it back downstairs placing the reloaded gun on the marble kitchen table. His hands rubbed at his tired face. The kid gave him a good scare, he didn't know what he'd do if he pulled the trigger. The knot in his chest clenched harder, begging him to lay down to rest his aching body; but there was work to do.