Apologies to my readers I've made a small change as Matt and Frank are no longer in a house but an apartment building. The changes are hopefully not that drastic. I don't think they are but this will be the one and only inconvenience as the story goes on. Enjoy!
Frank couldn't contemplate why the kid thought starving was a better option. He was still being torn apart except now from the inside. His own body gnawing at him for the basic needs he wasn't giving it- Shrinking his muscles and stealing away his strength. He'd try to trick his mind by chewing on his nails until nothing remained but short stubs on each finger. Treating hunger like a painful itch he couldn't scratch for the life of him.
He was only holding himself out for a slow and painful death. Frank was sure if it weren't for the layers of clothes and coats he'd be able to see Red's ribs. They both wore as many layers as humanly possible with the cold air leaking into the old building. No heater. No working stoves. The running water also stopped. The fucking dream. It had been a week since Frank had left the apartments.
He managed beforehand to collect as much tap water as possible. Filling any containers and the bathtubs with water. He set containers on the roof hoping to collect rainwater but it hasn't rained. If they ran out he'd just go down to the Hudson river to collect more. But he hasn't left the apartments since Red's episode. They were stocked up with food and supplies so Frank didn't have to worry about it now.
He had other things to worry about. Like Trying to get Red to eat, let alone acknowledge him. while the walker's groans outside mocked him. Urging him to purge the streets- to search for survivors, but he stayed. Matt would cover his ears squeezing into himself. Pushing himself against the bed frame.
Frank would reach out to him, but Matt always nudged him away. He'd leave him opting to scavenge the room instead for nonperishable foods, medicine, tools, and weapons. A lot of the room's fridges began to reak with expired milk and meats and Frank had the pleasure of rummaging and dumping them. Gathering garbage, wooden chairs, and tables. Dragging them all up to the roof and setting them ablaze he started a warm fire going.
Warming up cans of beans and spam. He sat and ate alone. Enjoying the warmth for as long as it lasted. His only company being the stars that filled the night sky, one of the many pleasers he could now enjoy without the city lights. While Matt sat in a corner somewhere sinking deeper into himself. After a couple of days, the kid did leave the room. Wandering aimlessly around the hallway and rooms.
The apartments weren't large, but they weren't small either. It would be easy to lose the kid if Frank didn't keep an eye out for him. He's just glad he's cleared the rooms of the walker's carcass. Having to drag and throw them off the roof and fire escapes wasn't pleasant; but neither was the smell that came with leaving them there. The attempt felt vain as the scent would still linger, seeping through the walls. Blood still stained the carpets and decorated the walls.
Other rooms had broken doors and dented walls. A disorganized mess from people trying to pack in a rush. Clothes pulled out of drawers and half-packed discarded suitcases. Red would of course avoid most of these spots. He preferred one of the bottom floor rooms. It was decorated like an old record store.
Filled with all sorts of musical icons placed all over the walls, vintage record players, warm-colored rugs, Vinyl records, Magazines opened and scattered along the desks. And there Red sat with a headset and cassette player in hand. He'd spend most days blasting songs on repeat trying to block out the world. Looking on the verge of tears but he never cries. After eleven days of eating meals alone and spending them with the company of the stars and the growling of walkers, Frank had enough.
Frank took a seat next to him. Bringing down the opened bag of bread, hot dogs, and those yellow cheese packets that never seemed to expire. Making hot dogs because no one in all the rooms he's checked owned damn hot dog buns.
" I brought some food," Frank said, showing off his makeshift hotdog. He cringed at himself remembering the kids blind." There's also some canned tuna, spam and Beef jerky if you want." Red didn't say anything, his music leaking out of his headset. Frank sighed and put his food aside. He gently pried the headset off Red and put them on. A familiar and catchy tone played in his ears. He read the cassette tape box. 'The best in classic 60's & 70's rock.'
"Nice track you got here." Red, kept staring at the floor. Frank took the time to really look at the view, both of them facing the window. He could see the Hudson River from a distance, along with the top of buildings and the faint silhouettes of walkers that looked like harmless ants from where they sat. Damn Bugs waiting to be stepped on.
He took off the headset. " This your life now?" Frank paused looking Matt right in the eyes. "Whatever happened to the councilor and Karen? You wanted to save your friends didn't you."Red's face remained neutral as he snatched back the headset with a shaky hand. He got up and left the room. Frank went after him. It didn't take long to catch up.
" Nah, where are you going?" Frank said, striding alongside him. Red's strides got faster as he headed towards the staircase. Frank grabbed Red's arm, stopping him, but Red kept tugging." So that's it you're just going to give up on them. You're just going to lay down and die?"
"Let go…"
"No we're going to talk like fucking adults. I'm tired of your shit."
" I said let go!" Red screamed, landing a blow on Frank's jaw. Frank hissed, squeezing Red's arm harder. He preferred him pissed off than moping any day. The kid let out a frustrated grunt swinging with his other arm. landing blow after blow but Frank absorbed them like bee stings. " Talk to me, Red"
"Fuck off Frank," Matt said glaring at him.
"I will when you stop acting like an angsty teenager."
"I know the gun wasn't loaded!" A pregnant pause stilled over them. Matt's body trembled with anger expecting Frank to break it. He didn't. "You never intended to give me a choice did you, Frank? "
"...I did give you a choice. You choose to not pull the trigger."
"That's bullshit!"
Frank let Matt go shoving the kid hard enough to lose his balance. He toppled over like a feather. "You don't want to die, Red. Nah, you're just throwing a temper tantrum like it's gonna make all the shit outside disappear. It's not. " Matt's head tilted up as he pressed into a deep scowl. "This is your life now, no more dressing up in red pajamas and throwing the bad guys in jail. No more being a lawyer in your shit firm that you don't even show up half the fucking time to even run. You're just a stubborn whiny asshole now who isn't good for shit. "
Matt let out a bitter laugh, "You don't know shit about me, Frank. Were not comrades, were not friends, hell we're not even colleges so drop the shit. Or what… did you actually think I wanted your help? That I need you to watch me like I'm some fucking kid. Well, I don't need a damn babysitter. " He slowly lifted himself up.
"When was the last time you ate?"
Matt didn't answer.
"Do you really think starving yourself is a better way to die? It's just as slow and painful as any death a walker could give you. Your organs will shut down, and you'll die slowly in agony. You'll be wishing you'd pulled that trigger instead."
" If it bothers you so much, Frank, why don't you put a bullet in me? Put me out of my damn misery and do us both a favor!"Matt let out a humorless laugh." It's not like you haven't done it before, like that night on the roof." He could feel the kids' resentment hanging over him.
"What would Karen and Nelson say if they saw you right now? This shit show of yours, look at you can barely stand." Frank said, his tone going deeper.
"They're dead."
" What happened to all your big talk about going out looking for them? What happened to your damn sense of justice? Is this all you are without the custom? Mathew. " His name set something off in the kid. Matt clenched his teeth throwing an uncoordinated puch. Frank grabbed it.``Where'd he go, huh? The damn devil of hell's kitchen who ain't scared of shit. I want him. Where he is! At least he's good for something." Frank gripped Matt's fist harder. "Cause it doesn't look like Matthew can do shit."
" H-he's dead," Matt said, his voice quivering with anger.
"Nah, I think he's still in there!" Frank said, locking his fist with Matt's jaw. Sending him flying across the hallway floor. His cassette player and headset clattered to the floor. The kid's eyes flashed like it was the most audible fucking thing he's heard Frank say. He stood up swaying, tasting the warm blood running down his nose.
"Come on, Red. Where's that fight you had a second ago?" Screaming Red threw himself at Frank.
Frank easily evaded the punch, jamming his own into Red's side. The kid's moves were slow and rash. Throwing sloppy punches and kicks. Matt choked on the pain stepping back but Frank was on him in an instant. Clocking Red in the face one, two, three times.
Recovering from the blur of jabs Matt slams his fist into Frank's face hard enough to snap his head back. Frank couldn't help but crack a smile at the force of the blow. The kid still had it in him. They both danced around each other turning the hallway into a boxing ring. Swinging at each other until they were bloodied and bruised panting like rabid dogs.
"That's what I'm fucking talking about There he is!" Frank grinned.
Matt roared, tackling Frank below the waist. They tore through the wall leaving dust and crumbs scattering the floor. Matt was on him, pounding at his face. His knuckles cut Frank's lip. He threw the kid off spitting out blood. They both scrambled to their feet. Frank dodged. Ramming his fist into Red's stomach. Matt coughed, throwing back a weak punch only for Frank to catch it. Throwing Matt against the living room table breaking it. He laid there on the floor huffing like a fish out of water.
"You're in worse shape than I thought if that's all you got."
"Sh- sh-shut up! Shut up, Frank!" Matt said through panting breaths. Frank watched as Red stood up. His entire body quivered this time with exhaustion. He was sobering from the sense of thrill and adrenaline. Frank knew the fight was over; it had been from the very beginning.
"You wouldn't be having such a hard time if you ate something."
Matt steadied himself; he started swaying, his knuckles red and bloody. Dried blood smeared under his nose and the back of his hands. Sweat rolled down his furrowed brow while Frank never even broke a sweat.
Frank licked his cut lip, as Red charged again. He slammed the kid against the wall. Dropping the picture frames. He held him there, the kid struggling in his grasp, he flicked his head trying to headbutt Frank with no luck. Red was dangerously close to hyperventilating.
"Le-let go!" Matt tugged and squirmed against Frank's grasp.
Red stopped struggling his feet giving out under him.
Frank caught him only to be awarded a weak punch. He kept trying to get up as if the sight wasn't pathetic enough the kid still wanted to keep fighting. Eventually, he set Matt down.
"Wh-What's wrong F-Frank. Finish it… Finish this." It felt more like a pled than a command.
He wanted to tell the kid he couldn't make the shit outside disappear or even guarantee if the consular and Karen were alive. He didn't want to entrain the thought that he could be right. That Karen was dead. Or that they were the only ones left in not only Hell's kitchen but everywhere else. He can't say that dying now might be a mercy compared to what's waiting for them outside closed walls either, but he tires anyway. "I'll always have your back out there, Red. You know that." Red tug harder, a frustrated scream erupting from him as his aching muscles began to catch up. "And if I can help it I swear I'll put you down before those ugly bastards can take a bite out of you."
Matt let out a humorless laugh,"th-that won't be long b-because of how fucking useless I am. I can't even take you in a fight anymore, let alone stand!"
Frank pulled a chair and took a seat. The kid looked near passing out. " I'm not asking you to be fearless, Red."Matt tugged at his hoodie string's fidgeting with them. Frank sighed," you know what scares me more. What keeps me up at night.
It's not those damn monsters. It's the same dream, my family getting slaughtered in front of me… You want to know what feeling fucking useless is like! It's not being able to do a damn thing because they're dead. They ain't coming back. Karen, Nelson, your family is out there still, you got a chance to save them. I've lost mine Red, I'm not going to let you sit here and lose yours. And I'm not letting you take yourself away from them."
Red lips parted following a pause before shutting again. His eyes clenched, sinking into himself again. He wanted to run away, but there was no more running. No more hiding.
"I-I can't keep going and you can't make me, Frank," Matt did his best to meet Frank's gaze.``I want this."
"That's a load of horse shit, Red."
"What are you gonna do about it?"
"I'll force the food down your damn throat if I have to."
"And if I jump instead?" The words made Frank's stomach twist with dread. "Or maybe starving takes too long, so I'll just take your advice and put a gun to my head."
"I know what a dying man looks like, you're not it."
"Fuck Frank! One day you're going to have to drop the extra dead weight."
" I ain't leaving, Red."
Matt snapped, "just leave, go out on your supply hunts, and quit acting like you give a shit about me. Why won't you leave!" Red grabbed anything near him, broken picture frames, appliances, a fucking football throwing it all at Frank. "Just go- fucking go, Frank!"
Frank cursed, taking the hits. Something in Frank broke. He got to the kid's side holding his hands down." I ain't going anywhere! You hear me," he moved him until Frank could see his watery eyes. Red squirmed in his grasp. "Dammit Red stop." He kept fighting him." Stop it."
The kid fucking headbutted him hard, making his eyes prick with tears. He cursed, grasping on to the small amount of patience he had. "STOP IT!" Frank shook him hard, making the kid go still. A lump formed in Frank's throat, "I ain't leaving!" Red sat there heaving through clenched teeth, his face pressed into a deep scowl. Frank didn't know where he got the strength to keep putting up a fight.
"You're gonna eat something." The kid gave him a look that suggested that wasn't going to happen, but Frank was going to fight him on it. He pulled Matt up to his feet, and they immediately buckled under him. Frank helped him up. The kid felt light as a feather in his grasp making fear tighten around Frank's heart.
He sat Red down on the sofa heading towards the kitchen he grabbed an already opened bag of chips, crackers, and anything easy on the stomach. Red didn't move; he was just there, having gotten used to his attempts.
Frank opened a cold can of chicken soup. Pouring the kid a cup and set it in front of him. The kid was worn out, it would be easy to restrain him but it left a sick feeling in his chest. He couldn't let this keep going. He didn't have the medical equipment if things got bad. "Come on Red, at least a few bites. Come on." Red sat there, his gaze distant." You don't want this." Matt remained silent. "Dammit, Red! Don't make me shove it down your throat."
Frank grabbed the cup, holding the kid down. Urging his jaw open."Open your mouth, come on." Matt fought him hard, kicking and shoving him; but Frank overpowered him. Finally getting him to drink some of the broth.
Frank kept ignoring the gaging and coughs. He held him there, stopping him from spitting anything out. Until a whimper left the back of Matt's throat making Frank hesitate. Matt used it, kneeing Frank hard in the groin, his eyes pricked with tears from the pain. Matt broke loose and spat all he could out. The cup spilled to the floor.
Frank tried to swallow the growing lump in his throat. The frustration. Red was dying right in front of him, and there's not a damn thing he could do about it. Red laid back catching his breath from the struggle. Flashes of betrayal and hurt in his eyes..
"Come on Red. Don't do this. Don't fucking do this!" Frank screamed, desperation slipping into his voice. Matt's stern gaze met Franks holding his ground. When Frank approached him the kid flinched involuntarily, blinking surprised by his own reaction.
Frank's eyes traced the hole in the wall, the broken picture frames, table smears of blood on the floor, and not far the cassette player and a broken headset. Frank's fists quivered at his sides, his breaths coming out sharp and ragged. He felt as if the walls were closing in on him. Pacing he took one last look at Red before grabbing his coat, axe, and slamming the door behind him. The hallways stretched for miles as Frank walked.
It reminded him of when he first came back home. He'd catch moments where Maria and the kids would look at him like they didn't recognize him. Frank was sure at that moment he held the same look in his eyes. That kid, he couldn't be Red. And every time he caught a glimpse of him it flickered away as soon as it came.
He wanted to scream. To breathe. He tried to blink away the blur in his vision because maybe it was selfish of him for wanting Red to live. For being tired of looking at him wasting away in a corner with his face twisted in pain. He wanted to find the consular or Karen to snap him back into his senses. If only he could find them. No matter how hard Frank tries he knows he's not who Red needs, but he can't fucking fix that. As he exits through the back he feels relief trickle through his skin.
His cuts and bruises sting in the cold breeze. No longer inside the complex's thin walls and creaky floors.
He kept walking, past the empty streets until he was in the center of Hell's kitchen, the deep parts where the dead roamed in crowds. He scraped his axe against the pavement, making noise, banging on car hoods, and screaming. Car sirens went off full blast as Frank smashed the windows. The walkers turned to him, their hands reaching to him and the sounds. All while his heart drummed in his ears.
"Come on you fuckers! I'm right here, come get me!" He ran to them swinging his axe. Splashes of blood coloring Frank and the pavement red, he slid through them. Bringing them to the ground where he kept going. Pounding on their head until there were unrecognizable piles of blood and mush. He turned to his right, swinging the ax down and with a slurch he disconnected it from its head.
Another growled, throwing itself at Frank, he dodged, cutting it down. By that time, he was left breathless. Cover in sweat and blood. His axe dripping with blood. The body of walkers he took down littering the streets began piling up. That the walkers began to stumble over their corpses. And still, they kept coming, never tiring. Frank sucked in a shaky breath, preparing himself for another round. His body begged him to stop. His arms were heavy at his side and his throat aching from all of his screams but he couldn't stop.
Slash. Maria
Slash. Frank Jr.
Slash. Lisa.
Slash. Red.
He kept going, making it to the edge of the Hudson River. He stopped his axe hanging by his side as a peculiar walker slowly approached him. It had no lower jaw, growling at him. Frank let it get closer, shoving it each time it got too close.
Frank growled, locking his fist with its rotting face, he pounded it. Hearing the decaying bones under his knuckles crunch. Before he knew it he was on top of him throwing punch after punch.
He raised his fist but before he could bring it down a brown leather wallet caught his eyes. It was open. A glossy picture glimmering back at him, a family photo. A little boy, girl, father, and mother smiled back at him. The child's smile made the dimples in his cheeks show. The longer Frank stared he saw his family smiling back at him. For the first time, he turns to the bloody gargling monster that was once a father. A husband. And he hesitated.
He eventually pulled himself together, his teeth grinding as he finished it off—blood tainting the picture. He gazed up at the water, the cool breeze blowing, forming ripples on its surface. He and Red could steal a boat, and sail across. There had to be somewhere safe out there, people, help. He thought of Curtis and Billy of what little of a family he had left out there somewhere. To wondering if the men that killed his family were even alive to get his revenge.
Abruptly, he was snatched from his thoughts. Something cold and grimy wrapped itself around his ankle, tugging him down into the murky waters. Swallowing a mouthful of water. The cold instantly burned his skin making it go numb. Adrenaline pumping through his veins, his lungs screaming at him to breathe. He trashed aimlessly, his eyes frantically darting until they met a pair of dark gaping eye sockets.
It had him, its skin peeling off, hanging loosely on strands of muscle. He kicked at it, but it did nothing against the ugly bastard's iron grip. It had chains around its ankles. Frank didn't think they could swim, and he wasn't going to stick around to find out if this one could.
He reached for the gun on his belt, not thinking twice. He fired. The bullet pierced through the water finding its target, ripping through his leg in the process. He hissed. His blood dying the water red. The walker went limp, still Frank couldn't pry its hand off him.
He kept slamming his good leg hard onto the walker's arm until the bitter bone snapped in half.
He broke through the surface greeted with a heavy gust of wind, and white specks of snow. Gasping for air he reached the surface dragging himself onto the dry land. Coughing and spluttering water out of his lungs. He frantically pulled the walker's arm still clinging to him, chucking it into the Hudson. His body is numb, water dripping down his now drenched coat, weighing him down.
He's burning and he can't register the bullet wound in his leg until he tries standing. Warmth trickled down his leg spreading fast. He fucking shot himself in the leg. A bitter laugh escapes him nearing hysteria. Never in his days in the Marines or as the Punisher had he ever done something this stupid. Had he finally gone mad? He tossed his wet coat, tearing a piece of his pants leg as a make-shift tourniquet. Grabbing his gun as his prized axe was now in the depths of the Hudson River along with his dignity.
"Shit." Frank grinds his teeth limping away from their groans. He Leaned against walls and buildings. Trying to suppress his shivers and clattering teeth. But he knew they were vain attempts, he might have stopped the bleeding but they could still smell his blood. He could have sworn they had just as sensitive a nose as Red. The damn kid, he left him alone.
Frank's feet skidded against the pavement, their groans surrounding him slowly. He stumbled, almost slipping on the icy surface. He held on to the parked cars making his way around them like a maze. He forced himself to walk faster listening to their footsteps drawing closer. Almost as if they were reading his moves.
Looking back he tripped over one of the corpses dangling arms. Planting him face down in a blanket of snow and choking the air out of his lungs. He caught a walker's leg from under a car halting before pivoting in his direction. He grunted sliding himself under the car. His eyes traced its footsteps as they made their way to him a few new legs following in suit.
Frank willed himself to breathe quieter, his heart hammering in his chest so loud he swore they could hear it. Slowly their legs disappeared one by one, a few others passing him except for one wearing a navy blue pair of Converse. Frank blinked. When he opened them another pair of bloodshot eyes stared back at him. Before he knew it its hands were reaching to him snarling attracting the rest of them.
He shot it down, more taking its place crawling towards him. He kept firing. Two, three, four. They kept coming. He backed up only to be met with more on the opposite side. He crawled upward, getting under the next car. He fired until the last bullet lingered in his gun. Looking around he was met with grinding teeth and snapping jaws.
Frank turned the gun to himself, picturing Maira and the kids. Having the faintest hope of seeing them again and not just in his nightmares or memories. Frank whispered an apology under his breath, stopping when he thought of Red. He almost broke out laughing instead, cracking a smile at the irony of it all. God playing some kind of cruel joke on him laying here looking like the biggest fucking hypocrite.
"Fraaaank! "
A familiar voice shouted from the distance. He blamed his mind. Still, his name kept roaring back at him with the kid's voice and it only got closer. Making some of the walkers further away turn to the sound. From the corner of his eye, he saw Matt's silhouette. Repeating the same struggle, his finger on the trigger perfectly positioned. Until he couldn't see him. Frank cursed, kicking at the rushing hands and heads.
"Red!?"
He bit his lip stopping the shout of pain from his injured leg. A gunshot rang throughout the streets joined by three more. The walkers pulled back another getting their attention. Just enough for Frank to break free, crawling out from under the car. Just when he thought he was free hands took hold. He turned a wave of relief flowing through him as his eyes meet Matts. Matt struggled to lift him but managed to. He barely had time to process anything. The walkers as Red shot through. Some of them are still squirming with life. It all felt like static in his ears.
"Re-Red?"
Matt let out sharp panicked breaths, his eyes darting at the sounds of the walkers surrounding them both. He held the gun shakily in his hand with a distant look. Fucking great, now they're both going to die.
" Wh-Why did you come out!"
"I couldn't watch you die, Frank."
"Learn to. Better one of us dead t-than both of us."
Frank's wet clothes drenched into Matt's but he didn't seem to mind. Arm to arm, they limped through the rubble and misplaced vehicles and walker-infested streets. No matter where they went they were surrounded. Red had a stern look in his eyes, a look that was trying so hard to cover up the agonizing fear that pulsed through him. He resembles a young soldier out on the battlefield running alongside gliding bullets and grenades, fighting through the dirt and grim with only one thought in mind.
To make it home alive.
Frank let out a hiss, his bad leg buckling under him. He'd be face-planted in the snow again if Matt hadn't kept him upright.
"You're bleeding... Did you-
"Sh- sh shot mylf n' the leg," Frank's numb lips quivered out.
"Wh-what the hell, Frank!" Red spat out trying to sound mad but only worry and fear laced his words." Are you trying to get yourself killed?" Of course, it was the start of another argument. Frank didn't have the words or energy to respond. Focusing most of his energy on staying conscious.
They maneuvered through the cars, avoiding the walkers. Matt's gun remained shaky in his hand. Steam rising from the nuzzle from its use. Frank's eyes lingered on it. They didn't get far before the kid almost fell over trying to catch his breath.
"Jes-oh God. No, no, no" Matt's breaths quickened. He almost stopped dead in his track if Frank hadn't urged him to keep going, to keep moving.
"D'nt listen Red. Do-don't," Frank said the words stumbled out. The kid's hyperventilating. None of Frank's reassuring words calmed him. Still, Red nodded, his eyes squeezed shut as they both limped forward.
"Red!" Frank shouted as they both toppled over, his body too numb to feel the fall.
Frank tried to lift his head. His eyes fixed themselves on the back of the kid's head. watching as the sharp wind ruffled through it. They were going to die, Red's worst nightmare was about to come true. Frank cursed, urging his body to work but the more he pushed himself the more the world spun. He couldn't move.
All he could do was scream. Urging Red to get up. But it only got the walker's attention, their legs scraping against the snow as they grew closer. Frank clenched his eyes, groping the floor with his heavy hand for the gun. If anything- if fucking anything he could at least spare the kid from being ripped apart. He stopped when he saw Red's hand move. The kid's hand gripped the snow, his teeth clenching as he pulled at his and Frank's weight. Letting out a frustrated shout as he put one foot in front of the other.
"You c-can't c'rry me."
Matt ignored him, getting on his feet and pulling Frank up with a broken scream. Heaving through the tear-pricked eyes in frustration.
" le-leave me.."
" Shut up Frank."
"You w-wanna die!"
"I'm not leaving you!" Matt screamed, his voice cracking in pain. Matt said, echoing Frank's words right back at him." I'm a stubborn asshole, remember."
Red dragged Frank barely making it to a nearby coffee shop and barricaded the door pulling Frank against the wall. before Red's body gave out. The tables and chairs were scattered across the floor. A few walkers saw them banging against the display window, their bloody hands smearing the glass.
" Re-Red. Listen. " Frank urged him his eyes clenched. The kid must have heard because he was instantly at his side. He yanked his coat off wrapping it around Frank and rubbing his hands. Frank let him jostle him around, his consciousness slowly melting in sleep's clutches."You-You did g' go-goi-."
"No, no, no, Frank. stay with me."
"Go," Frank mumbled, his head digging into the wall. All Frank wanted to do was sleep, the warmth tugging him under and muffling everything around him. He couldn't understand why the kid kept babbling, why he couldn't just let him sleep.
"I'm taking you back to the complex. Ge-get you out of those wet clothes. Gee-get your wound treated. I just need to re-rest a bit."For a second Frank shut his eyes again despite Red's pleas. Lisa flashed in his mind telling him to read her favorite book before bed." Frank heard himself say," tmrrw' I'll read it tomorrow. P-promise."
Matt let out a pathetic laugh at Frank's disoriented babbling." Okay. Shi-shit." Red's face scrunched in pain, tears sliding down his face." This is my fault, isn't it?" Jesus, Frank this is my fault, isn't it… I'm sorry. I'm so fucking useless.`` The dead banged against the display window cracks beginning to take shape.
