A/N: yo

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Day 3; around 11:30 am

Xx

So, apparently, I'd fallen asleep at the window, but when I'd woke up I was back on the couch. So, either I've resorted back to my old sleep-walking habits, or someone put me back on the couch. I blinked the blurriness from my eyes, trying to focus enough to hear the inevitable soup-slurping.

But the apartment was silent.

That sprung me into panic. Frank is usually here when I wake up, where'd he go?

I sat up with a sharp hiss; my abdomen felt like it'd been ripped the fuck open. Did I care at this moment? No. As quickly as I could, I slid my legs back onto the floor, determined to find Frank, wounds permitting or not.

My thoughts were buzzing with bad news. What if he was taken by Gallagher's men? Or Mayarucci's men? Or Rus- okay, look. I've pissed off a lot of people, and odds are they've got constant eyes on me. I really, really hope they hadn't found Frank.

Leave it to me to kill the one nice man left in Manhattan.

And just knowing that it wouldn't be on my conscience at all seemed to pick at a nerve in my head, so I really had to find him before he got into trouble.

Though, just as I'd set my hands on the coffee table in order to shove myself to my feet, the front door's locks clicked and the door creaked open. So best I could, I flung myself back into a lying position on the couch to offer up the illusion that I was woken by the door.

Apparently, it didn't work, because Frank's eyes were on my the second he walked through the door, "You alright?"

"Why do you have a stick?" He was holding, well, a stick in his hand. The entire length of it was ridged, and it sounded hollow when he tapped the end on the floor. It was pretty tall, going up to Frank's ribs, at least.

He pulled it off the floor, adjusting his grip on it as he closed the distance between us, holding it out for me, "Yours."

It was a literal stick of bamboo. Hollow, like I'd thought, and about two inches in diameter, from the looks of it. I regarded it with an uneasy gaze, "... mine?" He was over by the counter, now, piecing back together my guns, and I got kind of offended, "Hey! Don't touch Delilah-" with an angry grunt, I used the staff to push myself to my feet. Using the thing as a cane, I walked over to him best I could.

My action made him pause, "It works."

"My leg does not work," I huffed. All the weight that was supposed to be on my leg was now on the staff in my right hand, and the whole idea couldn't be working better, really, "Now put Delilah down. Daniel, I don't care if you feel him up but give me her," I held my hand out across the table.

Frank gently set Delilah in my palm, "There you are."

"How did you even-" I hooked her in the drawstrings of the pants I had on, "Whatever. Why do I have a stick?"

"It's a walking staff for your leg," Frank seemed distant right now and it was kind of scaring me.

"Why bamboo, though?" out of all the wood he chose, he picked one from China? Where'd he even get this from?

Frank shrugged, "More tensile strength than steel. Withstands compression better than concrete. Possibly the strongest stuff on the planet. The stuff you get into... you're gonna need a long-lasting staff to keep your ass upright and breathing."

I cracked a small smile, "Thanks..."

"Y'gotta go home, now."

My small smile faltered and disappeared completely, "I need to- I- What? Wasn't it you who was a strong advocate for me staying here?" I took Daniel from him, too, now, sticking him in my pocket.

Hey, he was empty-clipped, it was safe.

Frank waved his hand, "I know what I said. But you got your staff, now, to help with your walkin' so you don't need to be here anymore."

I hate to admit it, but I'm kind of offended. Three days on his couch and he's already sick'a me? "Alright." I wasn't about to argue my case.

I mean, why would I? I didn't want to put him in danger by being here to begin with, I was so stubborn, fighting to get back to my house all the time just for Frank's protection. And now that I had to finally leave I just... I guess I just liked having human interactions.

Liked having someone looking after me for once...

"Yeah," I nodded, turning to head back to the coffee table where only my bandana laid -- Frank must'a took away the bloody shreds of the rest of my clothing, "Yeah, I'll go," I swiped my bandana up, tying it back around my neck. I stuck my new staff in the crook of my right elbow so I could tug the cloth over my mouth and nose, and turned back to face Frank.

He looked a bit taken aback, so maybe I still had a slight fear-factor to me, since he knew... what I did, what I could do.

And since the skull was a bit spooky lookin', strongly countering my innocent-looking features, "See y'round, Frankie."

He didn't correct, this time, "See y'round, kid," Frank stayed behind the counter, watching me slip my boots on, and he called me as I was just about to step into the hall, "Hey."

I poked my head back around the side of the door, "Yeah?"

Frank's mouth quirked up at the corner, and he looked down at the countertop for a moment before finally looking me in the eye, "Be careful out there, kid."

I flashed a quick, toothy grin at him, though he didn't see it beneath my mask; only saw the crinkle of my eyes, "No promises."

I shut the door behind me, and here I was, standing alone in the dark-ass hallway of a scary-lookin' building, being disowned by another man I cared about for the second time in three months.

Xx

Welp damn

She was just gettin' comfy, too, Frank, wth