But he also didn't leave before Red got up. Frank's actions have always spoken for him; he's never had need for a bunch of fancy words like Red is so fond of throwing around in front of a jury.
Frank washes his mug. "Told you. I'm gonna clean out." It's put in the draining board and Frank puts his hands on the counter edge, hangs his head for a moment. Exhales. "Wipe it down, all of it. No tracks. Nothing they can use but maybe I'll leave somethin' that'll send them in a direction of my choosing." Something that would point them far away from the place both of them are standing right now. He stands, cracks his neck. "There are a few guys I can shake down for information."
It matters that Frank stayed. Even if it was just practicality and Matt reminds himself of that easily enough. He and Frank collide when it works and often when it doesn’t but it doesn’t mean that he doesn’t worry about what last night means. Being that close to Frank’s little bunker and the ambush they had to lay to deal with it all still lingers in his mind.
“Just be careful.” It’s not a necessary warning. Of course it isn’t. Frank knows what he has to do and right now Matt just needs to heal up or he won’t be any use to him. “I’ll leave the patio door unlocked if you need it.” It’s what passes as a real invitation between them.
Yeah, being able to walk in a door via the rooftop instead of crawl in a window via the rooftop. Almost goddamn romantic, Red, better watch yourself.
Frank claps Red on the shoulder as he passes him. In the bathroom he changes back into his own clothes, leaves the sweatpants folded on the seat of the toilet. He has work to do and he's never careless, even though that's not always the same on him as careful - but right now he's not trying to kick the hornet's nest. He zips his hoodie closed over flak vest.
"I'll see you soon, Red." Soon. Not later, not around. It's an answer to his question, if not a promise. A nine-mil is pulled from behind the back of a couch cushion, slide checked, made safe before Frank tucks it in the back of his waistband. Maybe the sound of it is another answer: last night was something more than practicality for Frank. He heads to the glass doors. "Stay outta that suit."
He would offer Frank a key and the door code if he thought that he would ever use it. That would put him directly in front of security cameras and the sort of things that the Punisher would actively try to avoid. The rooftop access and the patio is the most welcoming practical thing that he can offer in times like these.
He knew the gun was there. He can smell the powder and how it was freshly fired last night. If Frank sought to protect the apartment last night, it’s about as much of a sign of affection he thinks Castle is capable of outside of sex. “I’ll try.” He makes no promises and then Frank is gone. He takes another sip of coffee and decides he’s better off just going back to bed.
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no subject
But he also didn't leave before Red got up. Frank's actions have always spoken for him; he's never had need for a bunch of fancy words like Red is so fond of throwing around in front of a jury.
Frank washes his mug. "Told you. I'm gonna clean out." It's put in the draining board and Frank puts his hands on the counter edge, hangs his head for a moment. Exhales. "Wipe it down, all of it. No tracks. Nothing they can use but maybe I'll leave somethin' that'll send them in a direction of my choosing." Something that would point them far away from the place both of them are standing right now. He stands, cracks his neck. "There are a few guys I can shake down for information."
no subject
“Just be careful.” It’s not a necessary warning. Of course it isn’t. Frank knows what he has to do and right now Matt just needs to heal up or he won’t be any use to him. “I’ll leave the patio door unlocked if you need it.” It’s what passes as a real invitation between them.
no subject
Frank claps Red on the shoulder as he passes him. In the bathroom he changes back into his own clothes, leaves the sweatpants folded on the seat of the toilet. He has work to do and he's never careless, even though that's not always the same on him as careful - but right now he's not trying to kick the hornet's nest. He zips his hoodie closed over flak vest.
"I'll see you soon, Red." Soon. Not later, not around. It's an answer to his question, if not a promise. A nine-mil is pulled from behind the back of a couch cushion, slide checked, made safe before Frank tucks it in the back of his waistband. Maybe the sound of it is another answer: last night was something more than practicality for Frank. He heads to the glass doors. "Stay outta that suit."
Then he's gone.
no subject
He knew the gun was there. He can smell the powder and how it was freshly fired last night. If Frank sought to protect the apartment last night, it’s about as much of a sign of affection he thinks Castle is capable of outside of sex. “I’ll try.” He makes no promises and then Frank is gone. He takes another sip of coffee and decides he’s better off just going back to bed.