Frank accepts the hand-wave, though his mouth opens, stays quiet, closes. He knows there's shit out there that's happening that doesn't involve him. That he doesn't want to be involved in. Metas. Crazy shit. So what if it includes resurrection?
Yeah. So what.
"I don't think there's many things in this life anymore than can break me, Red." Frank roughs a hand over the top of his own head before settling his chin in his fist and letting go of a long, slow breath. "But that would do it. Gettin' Maria back, just to--"
Doesn't involve him. Never gonna. There wasn't enough left of her to come back. His hand in his lap is shaking; he curls it into a fist. "I'd eat a fuckin' bullet." The words are nothing but breath and gravel, too low for anyone to hear aside from this man keepin' him company, wrapped in a goddamn blanket and head-injury. Frank gets to his feet, scraping his face with a palm before dropping the ice pack onto the table and moving away. The bathroom door slams behind him.
no subject
Yeah. So what.
"I don't think there's many things in this life anymore than can break me, Red." Frank roughs a hand over the top of his own head before settling his chin in his fist and letting go of a long, slow breath. "But that would do it. Gettin' Maria back, just to--"
Doesn't involve him. Never gonna. There wasn't enough left of her to come back. His hand in his lap is shaking; he curls it into a fist. "I'd eat a fuckin' bullet." The words are nothing but breath and gravel, too low for anyone to hear aside from this man keepin' him company, wrapped in a goddamn blanket and head-injury. Frank gets to his feet, scraping his face with a palm before dropping the ice pack onto the table and moving away. The bathroom door slams behind him.