Sick 'n Tired

Chapter 6

Where Frank was going once he stormed out of Matt's apartment, he didn't know. What he did know was that Matt Murdock was the most stubborn and emotionally stunted man he knew. He walked around the block absently, debating going back.

Why the hell did he even care about what happened to Matt? He was a pain in the ass who only ever ruined Frank's punishing. No killing, my ass, Frank thought. It always came back to this with them two. The Punisher killed and Daredevil didn't. Matt couldn't seem to let that go between them. While Frank didn't think that Matt's method of vigilantism was effective, it's not like Frank shoved his methodology down his throat every chance he got. Okay, maybe he had tried to get Matt to kill a couple times, but it never worked. Matt was too stubborn to change his mind about anything.

Frank shouldn't care about Matt, he was a grown adult who could make his own choices and should be capable of taking care of himself. Yet, something inside of Frank still wondered, worried even. It reminded him of his own kids when they would get sick. He would drop everything to take care of them, accommodate their every need, made sure they were comfortable and that they took their medicine. Maria always told him he was going over the top, that it was just a common cold, they were fine and that he needn't worry so much, but Frank couldn't help it. It was just his nature.

As he walked around, he realized that this nagging feeling in his gut wasn't going to leave him any time soon. He saw how messed up Red was, and how insistent he was about not getting proper medical attention, devil suit or not. Frank couldn't leave him to care for himself, couldn't trust him to. This was the reason why Frank was helping him, he told himself. Matt, while a pain in the ass, was a good vigilante; he helped clean up the streets somewhat, and, to be fair, he came in handy during those rare instances where Frank found himself in over his head. Couldn't have an asset like Red succumb to some flu.

Frank continued walking down the block, passing the entrance to Matt's building that he had circled a couple times by that point. He walked for a while, passing dive bars that were open at this ungodly hour of, Frank checked his phone, 3am. Not much would be open this late, only the sketchiest of convenience stores. Which, coincidentally, would be perfect for Frank to keep a low profile. It was probably 20 minutes of walking before he stepped inside one, the gritty interior as welcoming as his secluded safehouses. The fluorescent lights washed the whole place in the familiar warped reality feeling that typically accompanied late night convenience store runs.

Frank walked down the few aisles that were there, grabbing every over the counter medicine that would help alleviate any symptoms. He grabbed some microwaveable soups off the shelf, some gatorades, saltine crackers, and tissues. Walking to the checkout counter, he placed all the items down to be scanned.

"Will that be all for you, sir?" the uninterested cashier asked, hardly glancing up at Frank.

Frank did a quick sweep of the store, "Actually," he said, quickly darting from the counter over to the refrigerated sodas. Coming back, he plopped a 7-Up down next to the small pile of supplies and smiled at himself in satisfaction, "That's all."

The walk back to Matt's building was uneventful, peaceful even. As peaceful as a walk in the early morning with only the moon to light the way can be. He couldn't have been gone for much longer than an hour. Pretty quickly, Frank stood in front of Red's apartment, his hand hovering in hesitance above the door knob. He listened for any sign of Matt. There was no sound, he was probably in the same state as Frank left him, asleep. The silence of the early morning did nothing to ease his mind. Frank sighed, he just needed to make sure that Matt didn't end up killing himself, make sure he got out of the virus-filled woods that so densely grew around the man's immune system.