Archive of Our Own

Three nights. Frank had managed to keep Red away from rooftops for three nights, but clearly he would not make it to four. Matt and Nelson had won their case, and Matt was clearly on a victory high. He would not be pinned down in bed tonight, not matter what Frank did. And that was saying something because he really liked being pinned down. Ah, fuck, Frank’s thoughts were straying again.

No. He had a mission, and that was getting Matt to put on the gear he’d found: a vest with shoulder pads, arm and shin guards, and a light, fitted helmet he could wear under his usual mask. Not much, not enough, and nothing that would save him from a good shooter, but it was better than the nothing Matt had now, provided Frank could convince him to wear it. It would, at least, provide protection from most blades and absorb some hits. Hopefully. If he wore it.

Frank turned the helmet in his hands and waited. Part of him wanted to keep Matt from ever going back to his vigilante shtick, but, well, he knew he couldn't. He knew Matt wouldn't. It would make Frank a hypocrite if he forced the issue, too. Sure, he tried to be Pete Castiglione, now, but he’d never only be Pete. Especially now that he and Red were, well, a thing. Frank was in too deep.

There were too many traffickers and dealers and mobsters to stop, and not everyone was ready to do what needed to be done. Not that Frank wanted Matt to become a killer, absolutely not. But someone had to clean up after him. Someone had to fish him out of ditches, someone had to be backup, someone – someone was opening the door.

Frank put the helmet back on the coffee table and stood up. “Hey. Hey, girl,” he added when Lucy trotted to him. “Good day?”

“Yeah.” Matt let his briefcase slide down his arm and didn’t even seem to care when the laptop inside made a slightly worrying thunk against the wall. He just… didn’t give a shit. Okay. Okay, Frank could go with it; this was Matt on a mission, Matt still riding the wave of the previous’ day court win, Matt with hunger on his face.

“You want something, Murdock?” Frank definitely wanted something , seeing Matt stalk like that. He was moving like all the bruising under his clothes had disappeared, like he was ready for anything, like he could and would take whatever he wanted.

“Yeah, I do,” and fuck, even his voice had gone low and a bit gravelly and it was absolutely doing it for Frank.

And then they were all over each other, and Frank was pulling on Matt’s tie to drag him even closer and fuck, even the glasses digging into his cheek felt good.

It was all going pretty well until they bumped into the table and the helmet wobbled and fell with a thump to the floor. Matt took a step back, his hands still on Frank, and tilted his head. “Frank?”

“Yeah.” He tried to look away from Matt’s red lips. “It’s, uh. The body armor I found for you.”

“Oh.”

Matt’s hands slid away from him, and Frank sighed. He wasn’t too surprised, but maybe a bit disappointed. “Want to try it on?”

“Yeah, sure.”

Frank watched him go into the bedroom, put his suit on a labeled hanger, dig the old chest out from the cupboard in the wall. “Hey, you’re not going out right now, are you?”

“It’s dark already, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, good. Haven’t been out in almost a week. I got a lot of ground to cover to make up for it.”

“Matt.”

“Yeah?”

“Maybe eat something first?”

“I’m good. Had lunch with a client.”

“That was hours ago.”

“I’m fine.”

Frank tried to loosen his jaw. Didn’t need to crack his brand new tooth just because Red was a stubborn idiot. “All right. All right, Red. I’ll leave something in the fridge in case you’re hungry, yeah?”

Matt stopped fighting with the leg piece. “You’re leaving?”

“You’re going to spend the night out, and I’ve got somewhere to be tomorrow all day. Why would I stay?” Frank couldn’t help feeling vindicated to see disappointment on Red’s face. But hey, it was all true: why would he stay? David’s place was not close, and it was much easier to drive there from the shelter.

“Yeah, you’re right.” Matt had put on everything but the helmet by now, and his eyes were their usual almost but not quite on Frank’s. They always made a little something pinch in him, when he saw them. Then Matt moved around a little, did a few jumps. “Think it’s good. Thank you, Frank.”

“Yeah, well. Don’t get yourself killed.”

“Can I get just a little maimed so you can come and get me?” The little shit batted his eyelashes, too. Frank had no idea where or how he’d picked that up.

“No.”

“Damn. I had hopes, too.”

“Hope away, Red.”

“Aw.” Matt took a few steps back to Frank. “Look, I… I have to do this.”

“I know.” And he did, he really did. They both knew who they were, and they both needed to leave the other room to be. And fuck, it scared him. Frank was terrified, and he hated that he was, and he was pretty sure Matt would hate it if he knew. Because, yes: Matt was never thinking of himself, Matt would rather be killed than kill, Matt had almost died too many times already, and fuck, Matt was blind. It shouldn’t matter. Frank hated it, hated that it mattered, hated that it made him feel a sudden, fierce protective urge sometimes. It was patronizing as shit and Matt would kill him if he knew. He didn’t need Frank, and Frank wanted to be needed. He wanted to matter to someone. He wanted to make a difference, and not only when he put on the skull and went to town on the mob, no. He wanted to leave something else in the world, too. Not only blood. Not only death.

“Frank?”

“Yeah.”

“See you around?”

“Don’t be a dope, Red.” Frank grabbed him by the hair at the back of his skull and dragged him forward for a quick, rough kiss. “Text me when you’re back home, yeah?”

“Who’s the dope, now?” Matt asked. Frank tightened his grip on the hair. “Yeah, all right, I will.”

Frank was pretty sure Matt lingered a little on that last brush of lips, but then he was going up the stairs and out on the roof and Frank and Lucy were left looking at each other in the changing light of the billboard outside.

“Well, guess it’s just you and me now.” She joined him on the sofa as Frank tried to untangle the mess in his head, listening to the light rain that started soon after Matt had left and trying not to think of how it turned everything slippery and even more dangerous. Tried not to think of all the parts of him that were not covered by armor, of all the things that could pierce it anyway.

He wasn’t very successful.

Once back in his small one-bedroom above the shelter offices, Frank tackled the chores he’d neglected in the week. He’d hardly come up here in days, just to get a change of clothes or grab a shower after work. He needed to do laundry, he needed to check what was in the fridge. He needed to change the sheets, maybe. He put his phone face down on the bedside table and got down to it.

The air was cool and crisp early Saturday morning when Frank took Lucy out for a walk, and his phone was a weight in his pocket. He didn’t want to check it, he was afraid of what he’d find – what if it was nothing? Was Matt even home yet? What if he had left a message, but it was a worrying one?

It was ridiculous. Frank knew he was ridiculous, but fuck it, fuck all the what-ifs that were eating at him. He’d forgotten what it was, to care; he’d forgotten and now it was back and it was terrible. Terrible. And the first time around, he had only been thinking, what if Lisa falls from the tree? What if Frank Jr breaks his leg? What if Maria’s brakes give out? Normal, everyday things. Frank had managed to cope, until he learned the hard way that normal, everyday things were not the only ones that could happen. And Matt, Matt was running towards danger.

Lucy nosed his tight fist until he relaxed his hand and he scratched her behind her one remaining ear. Good girl, she was a good girl. She got it, Lucy did. The fear, the tension that ate at your gut and that helped nothing. Helped no one.

He finally got the phone out and saw there was a text waiting. He breathed out, checked the hour – 5am – and read it: Back home. Armor fine. Say hi to Lucy for me. All right. All right, then. Frank could picture him, the kevlar at his feet because he must probably hate it even if he wore it; still in his tight, black clothes, his mask and the helmet dangling from his hand, dictating the message. Frank hoped he’d found the bowl of grains, tempeh, and veg he’d left in his fridge. He hoped Matt would rest today.

Mostly, Frank hated that he cared about an idiot who didn’t , that he cared enough that it felt like a weakness, a flaw. Something that would get them both killed.

He didn’t answer. What would he say?

Leo almost teleported out of the door to Lucy when Frank opened the truck door. He was pretty sure the kids had been waiting for him behind the window after he’d warned he was bringing a dog with him. Zach was trying hard to be cool and bored as was suitable for a boy his age, but his eyes were on the dog and Sarah was glaring at Frank, although her lips were twitching. Yep, he’d get them to adopt a mutt one day soon.

“Hey, man, looking good,” David said.

Frank jostled his arm in retaliation and handed the bottle of wine to Sarah. “Better than you, that’s for sure,” he said.

“Well, his beard is better trimmed than yours, David.”

“Sarah!” David rubbed his chin on his wife’s forehead and she pushed him in the kitchen’s direction to bring them back some chips.

“Ignore him.” She waved Frank to the sitting room where the kids were competing over who Lucy liked best, and held out a wine glass to him. They chatted a bit about the kids, David’s attempts at fixing the shower head (Frank rolled his eyes, took Leo with him and repaired it in about 15 minutes in between two glasses), and how Sarah was doing at her new job.

After they’d polished one bottle between the three of them, Sarah pointed at Frank’s face again. “So, what’s the occasion? Finally got tired of the full-on caveman style, or could there be any other reason?”

“Nah.”

“Come on, Frank. You’ve been acting a bit weird lately.”

“Yeah, you were supposed to tell me what you thought about that book last Saturday and you didn’t come!” Leo had crossed her arms and was frowning at him. Oh, yeah, the book about the tiger and the boat that she’d insisted he read.

“Hey, Leo, I’m sorry. Something came up.”

She looked suspicious. “Something dangerous?”

“You know what? I think it’s not something. I think it’s someone.”

Shit. Sarah looked up at him a bit too knowingly. “Nah,” Frank said.

“Uh huh. No reason. Nothing to do with you, A, getting an actual phone a few months ago and B, checking it every five minutes today. You’re due another little peek right about now, by the way.”

Frank slid his hand out of his pocket. He absolutely was not about to look at his phone. Nope. “Sarah,” he said. But then he didn’t have anything else to say.

“Oooh, gossip. Come on, man, don’t leave your buddy hanging.” David threw an arm over his wife’s shoulders and they both bent a little forward, smiling like the dorks they were. Even Leo had half-turned her head in their direction, because clearly that was way more interesting than trying to teach Lucy to roll on her back on command.

“Look, you know, it’s not like that,” Frank said.

“Aw, David, look at that, he’s blushing.”

“I’m not.”

“Look at that, you’re right,” David said. “Is that why you’ve got a beard?” Frank wanted to punch his face until he put that smartass grin away.

“I hate you,” he said.

“No you don’t.” But Sarah’s face softened a little, and she picked the empty glasses up. “Well, I guess it’s time for some food now, right?”

They relocated to the table and Frank was left off the hook, at least for now. He was grateful for the reprieve, and carefully didn’t check if there was a message on his phone. There wouldn’t be anyway, right?

He left when the night was falling, Lucy’s tail happily wagging after a day of play and belly rubs. Frank watched her run around Zach one last time, her tongue lolling out.

Sarah stepped up next to him on the porch. “Hey, Frank.”

“Yeah?”

“Is there someone?”

“Sarah.”

“Frank.”

He sighed. “Yeah.”

“Bring them along next week?”

He looked down at her. “I don’t know…”

“Look, we’ll make each make a list of what we expect, check who gets the most correct answers and the winner gets to keep all the leftover challah for themselves, all right?”

“Dad! No!”

“Zach! Yes!” David oofed when his kid threw a tennis ball a little bit too hard in his gut and threw it back before Lucy could jump him. “So, what do you say?”

Frank knew he’d lost the battle. Leo had been stealing glances at him most of the afternoon, clearly dying of curiosity, Sarah and David would tease him until he caved, and Zach… would probably be very surprised to see Frank with a guy, and that couldn’t be a bad thing.

“Yeah, okay,” he finally said. “No promises, but I’ll try to be convincing.”

“Not a suburban life fan?”

Fuck no. “You’ll see. Or not.” Frank decided now was a good time to leave for good, before they could get more information from him than he was ready to give. There was no shame in a strategic retreat.

He checked his phone before starting the truck and heard Sarah and David laughing at him. He didn’t have any new messages.

What Frank did have, however, was one Matt chatting with Naye in the shelter office when he got there.

“The fuck are you doing here?”

“I just came to check on the dogs that got surgery this morning,” she said right as Matt said, “I was in the neighborhood.”

He had a gym bag slung over his shoulder and was doing the charming blind lawyer routine for the vet.

“How are they, then?” Frank asked Naye.

“They’re doing well. I’ll pop by tomorrow for a final check, but they should be fine.” She poked Frank in the chest. “So, big guy. Carlie said you’ve been avoiding her for the entire week, but you’re gonna have to spill, you know that?”

“I can give you tips on how we get witnesses to spill on the stand,” Matt said. Frank was going to strangle him.

Naye opened her mouth then closed it when she saw Lucy sit at attention at Red’s feet, and how he absently patted her head. “No,” she said.

“What? She’s a guide dog, Murdock’s a blind guy.”

“Match made in heaven,” she said. Butter wouldn’t have melted in her mouth.

“You leaving?” Frank asked.

“Yes, Pete, I’m leaving. Carlie’s coming tomorrow morning to meet with adopters, so don’t scare them away, all right?”

“I don’t scare people away.”

“Uh huh. You did, the first couple of weeks. We didn’t tell you, because they were clearly not going to be good pet owners and we didn’t want them to adopt anyway, but you definitely did.”

“Aw, is Pete here a scary-looking man?” Matt said. “You don’t sound like it, if I may say so.” Definitely strangle him.

“Pete’s a big guy, and when he does the grunty thing you don’t want to be on his wrong side, you know?” Maybe also strangle her.

“Just go away, Naye,” Frank said.

“I’m going, I’m going. Jeez, you’re touchy, too.” She touched Matt’s arm. Strangle her slowly . “Do you want me to drive you to the subway station?”

“I’m good, but thank you, Naye. I’ll stay a little longer with Lucy, if that’s all right.”

“Sure, she’ll love it. See ya, Pete!” And finally, finally, she was gone.

After stewing for a moment, Frank jerked Matt around to face him. “What the hell?”

“What?” He was smiling, too, the little shit.

“This is… this is… why are you here?”

“To see you.”

“You don’t send a single message in the entire day, and then you drop in on me without warning?”

“It’s… a surprise?” Matt reaches out to touch Frank’s forearm. “Wait. Did you spend the day waiting for me to message you?”

“Fuck’s sake, Red,” and that was it. That was the limit. Frank wrapped the red (red! The little shit, he’d done it on purpose, he knew it) tie around his hand and dragged Matt forward until he could kiss him at last, feel the glasses digging into his cheek and grab a handful of ass and just make sure he was here and his, right now.

“Maybe later,” Matt said, and damn right they’d fuck, no maybe about it.

Lucy’s claws on the floor woke him up early on Sunday morning. Frank looked at his phone, and yeah, it wasn’t even 7. Matt was not quite awake next to him, his eyelids half-open like when he was doing that meditation shit. He claimed it helped, but really Frank didn’t want to know what Matt would look like if it didn’t. Maybe like one of Nelson’s brother’s cuts of meat. Emphasis on cuts.

“Taking Lucy out,” Frank said, and Matt made a vague noise of acknowledgment. Good enough.

They didn’t take long, a quick walk around the block and back after a detour to the little bakery the next block over; when they got back Matt was still lying in bed, fully awake this time.

“Planning on staying there all day long?” Frank asked.

“Mmh. What do you usually do, on Sunday mornings?”

“I don’t go to church, Red.”

“Oh. Found one with a service at 11 not far from here, so plenty of time to convince you yet.”

“I’m not going.”

“All right.” Matt stretched, made a small, happy noise. Frank narrowed his eyes. Nope, still not going to church. “So, what do you do?”

“I go on a run.” Matt made a ridiculous little pout as he sat up. “What, you don’t do cardio?”

“Cardio, yes. But I can’t really run,” he said.

“Parkouring your way through the city, yes; running, no?” What the hell?

“Nah, it’s just… I can’t run on my own, I need a guide. Or, I should need a guide, but really it would still be easier with than without. So I don’t.” He shrugged. “I ran a bit, back in college; there was a gym there and treadmills are mostly fine, but since then…”

“What do you need?”

“What?”

“You said you need a guide. What do you need exactly?”

“Well, I... would you? Really?”

“Shit, Red, I don’t know, since you won’t answer me.”

“Oh, uh. Well, just say if there’s an obstacle, a curb, a dog, that kind of thing; turning left or right, or if the ground is slippery. Usually there’s a form of contact, like a piece of rope.”

“Sounds good.”

“It’s harder than it seems, you have to be pretty much in sync with each other. I think.”

“You think? You never tried it?”

“No.”

“Want to try now?” Frank eyed the gym bag Matt had come with. “What did you bring in that bag, anyway?”

“Well, I do have gym stuff.”

“Why did you even bring your – you know what, I don’t care. Put your shoes on and we’re going.”

“Bossy.”

“You like it, Red.”

Matt didn’t deny it.

Their run was, Frank thought, enlightening. For once, he saw Matt not being entirely at ease in his surroundings, doing something he wasn’t used to do and that his body wasn’t trained for. It showed, and they ran at a pace that Frank would have found ridiculously slow if he’d been on his own. But having to pay attention to everything around him, remembering to call out every little thing he usually took in without even thinking about it… it was hard. Much harder than he’d imagined. They fumbled with the rope before finding a length that worked for them, and Frank had to remember not to drop it. There were a few near misses, too: when a dog escaped his owner and almost tripped Matt and when Frank forgot to tell him to stop at an intersection, but every time Frank had managed to catch Matt before it was too late.

It reminded him that Matt’s senses did not replace sight, and that when too many factors demanded his focus he missed stuff. He’d never ask for help, but Frank could do that. He could be there, be useful, make things a little easier sometimes. Even if Matt could do without, he’d do better with, and that mattered. That was enough.

They were still panting and sweaty when they got back to the shelter, and Matt’s flushed face did things to Frank. He’d left his glasses in the apartment and run with his eyes closed so people would hopefully notice and step away from their path, but now they were open again and slightly crinkled with his smile and it was a good look on him. Frank approved.

He used the rope they were both still holding to pull Matt a little closer, a little closer again, then caught his hips and then his lips. He could feel Matt’s smile against his own, the rope biting around his wrist, the rough wall against his back, and – shit.

“Oh. My. God! Pete, are you making out in front of my office?”

“Carlie.” Frank tried to scowl at her, but Matt’s hair tickled when he let his head fall on Frank’s chest and really, when he felt Matt laugh, it was all too much.

“Wow, and you’re smiling, too. You sure you’re Pete Castiglione, Pete?”

“You here early.”

“Uh uh. Getting a nice eyeful before starting my day, too,” Carlie said. “And wow, nice guns, you guys.”

Frank had a moment of horror – shit, they hadn’t gone on a run packing heat, had they? – before he realized she was looking at their bare arms. Particularly at Matt’s.

Who chose that moment to lift and turn his head and say, “Hi, Carlie.”

“Matt? Pete, your mystery lover is our lawyer? Crap, I owe Naye 20 dollars.” She dug out her phone from her purse before opening the door. “And Matt, wow, way to go. A lot of volunteers and adopters have tried to catch Pete’s eye, you know.”

Frank rubbed the back of his head, feeling phantom eyes on him. “Um.”

“Really?” Matt teased. “You such a looker?”

“Don’t listen to her, she’s talking shit.”

“Am not,” Carlie said, “But I must sadly ask you to go and be cute somewhere else, because I’ve got a couple people coming soon and I don’t want them to be distracted by the pretty, you know?”

She went inside and closed the door behind her, and Frank looked at Matt’s beaming face.

“I think she called us pretty, Frank.”

“Maybe it’s just me.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

Matt was still smiling like an idiot when they got into the shower, but Frank was pretty sure he’d find a way to make him stop. Then Matt said they should hurry if they wanted to be on time for mass and Frank couldn’t figure out if he was serious about it but it turned out that shit, yes, he was.

Frank walked with him to the church but drew the line at actually going inside, and he spent the service in the park with Lucy. Hey, a guy had his limits.

One week later, and there were two toothbrushes in both apartments. At least we’re sharing the toothpaste, Frank thought. We’re not going that fast, right? Who was he kidding. Frank had never gone slow. Maria and he, they’d had Lisa one year after getting together. One year. They’d had different toothpastes, though. Shit, what was he doing, getting all misty-eyed over toothpaste. He’d finish getting ready, and he and Matt were going to go to David’s. There was no escaping it. Time to face the music, yeah.

Matt was on the phone with Nelson when he got out of the bathroom, something about suing a contractor. Whatever. He hung up and smiled at Frank and that was that, they were ready. They were going. Lucy was already waiting at the door.

“Do you think that’s all right?” Matt asked again. He’d brought kosher chocolates from a fancy Jewish shop near the courthouse, and he’d asked that very same question about five times already. Frank was sick of it.

“Yeah, it’s fine.” Frank straightened Matt’s stupid tie. Seriously, who wore a tie to a lunch with friends? Okay, they weren’t Matt’s friends, and he was supposed to only know Pete and not Frank and try not to slip, and fuck. But he’d dressed as if going to work, and Frank had hoped for jeans. Maybe a tight shirt, something like that. Perhaps it was better this way, the suit hid how built he actually was. Still, the tight shirts. He better wear one on Sunday. “You done fretting about those sweets?”

“I’m not fretting.”

“Sure you’re not.”

“I’m not, but you are. You don’t want to show me off, Frank?”

“Aw, shut up, Red.”

Matt, of course, smiled beatifically in the passenger seat of the van Frank had borrowed from the shelter for the entire drive.

Once he’d parked right in front of the house, Frank got Lucy out and opened the door for Matt. He knew someone was peeking from the window, and he wanted to let them stew a little more, hiding Matt from view for a few more seconds. And right on cue, just as they crossed the street, the front door opened and Sarah was there.

“Hurry up guys, wine’s breathing already!”

“Oh yeah, guys,” David said as he came to join her. “Didn’t know you had it in you, man.” He blanched a little. “I mean.”

“Yeah, yeah, we know what you mean.” Frank pursed his lips so he didn’t laugh in his face before even having stepped in.

Sarah looked suspiciously amused, but refrained from saying anything else what with the kids right behind her.

“This is Matt,” Frank said. “Matt, this is David, Sarah, Zach, and Leo.” They all made little noises and Matt turned his head in their direction. Frank could see they were a bit thrown by the blind thing. Well, they didn’t know – and wouldn’t know – the half of it.

“I’m Leo,” the girl piped up. “People usually think I’m a boy but Zach’s the boy.”

“All right,” Matt said. “Duly noted. Um, I brought this,” he said, lifting his damn chocolates.

“Aw, you shouldn’t have,” Sarah said, but she took it and glared at her husband when he tried to swipe them from her grip.

“So sitting room’s that way,” David said, and waved his hand, and then made a face. “To your, uh, right?”

“I’m sure Pete knows the way, and I’ll just hang on for the ride.” Oh, the little shit. Sarah looked like she was in love already, and David’s face was doing calisthenics.

“Yeah, you do that,” Frank grumbled, and Matt only beamed at him.

They settled on the couch and were soon equipped with drinks and finger food, and all four of them were staring at Matt.

“So,” Sarah said. “The deets?”

Frank sighed. “What do you want to know?”

“Ooooh, everything. Was it a meet-cute? How long have you been together? Are you both Lucy’s dads now? Do you share custody?”

“I’m a lawyer,” Matt said, “and I represented the shelter in court. Won, too.”

“Nice,” she said.

“Gay.” All eyes turned to Zach, who was frowning at the table. “You’re gay. It’s disgusting.”

“What’s your problem?” David asked. “That’s not how we…”

Zach made to leave but Frank caught his arm and forced the kid to sit down next to him on the couch. Zach leaned away from him and refused to look at anyone.

“I had a wife before,” Frank said. “You know that.”

“Whatever.”

“Zach.” Matt’s cane turned in his hand as he spoke. “What is it that makes you uncomfortable?”

“I’m not uncomfortable. I’m grossed out.”

Sarah opened her mouth and Frank guessed she was about to send her son up to his room, but that wouldn't solve the problem. He shook his head at her and said, “Okay. What’s grossing you out, then?”

Zach scoffed, and didn’t answer.

“He’s afraid he’s going to catch the gay,” Leo said. “You’re stupid, Zach. And Pete’s not gay, he’s bi.”

Frank smiled a little. “That’s right. I am.”

“So of the two of you, who’s the girl,” Zach said.

“The girl?” Matt turned his head to face in Zach’s direction.

“When you, you know.”

“That's… not how it works. It’s all pretty much the same, whoever you’re with.”

“You wouldn't know, would you?”

“I would, Zach.”

“So you’re, like, doing it with everyone? Taking it up – ”

“Zach!” David said. “Zach, what’s got into you? Shit, Pete, Matt, I’m sorry, I don’t know what… Seriously, that’s not what we’re teaching them.”

“Yeah, well, Sammy at school said that fag- ”

“That’s enough, Zach.” Sarah looked furious. “Go up to your room, we’ll talk later.”

“Whatever. I’m not staying here with – ”

“You stop right here, young man. You go and think about it, and your father and I will decide what to do with you. Give me your phone.”

“I don’t have it.”

“You always have it. Give me your phone.”

Zach finally slammed it into his mother’s outstretched hand and went to his room, stomping on the stairs.

“Well,” Sarah said. “We’re… I don’t know what to tell you. We’re sorry.”

“Sammy’s a jerk,” Leo said. Sarah frowned, but didn’t deny it.

“Who’s Sammy?” Frank asked.

“His new bestie. His parents hate everyone. Even us.” Matt couldn't see Leo’s face, but he could certainly hear her low opinion on them.

“What do you mean?”

“Us, Jewish people. He told them we weren’t.”

Sarah and David looked at each other. “That’s new.”

“Yeah, well.” Leo shrugged. “Sammy arrived after you came back, dad. He doesn’t really know about, you know.”

“Clean slate, huh,” Frank said.

“Well, you can’t entirely erase the past,” Matt said. “Even when you want to.”

“I just don’t know what to do with our boy,” Sarah said. “It’s like whatever we do or say, it pushes him further away.”

Frank tried not to think of a kid never really back from war, blowing himself up in a hotel kitchen. Sometimes, you just couldn’t help. He hoped Zach would come back from his own hell.

David topped up their glasses after a last worried glance at the stairs and they tried to resume the conversation, but it was awkward. Sarah was downing glass after glass, and Matt was fidgeting with his cane.

They started on the meal itself and David went upstairs to bring Zach a tray, but he had to leave it in front of the door. Kid had refused to open.

Frank was munching on some bread when Matt grabbed his wrist.

“What?”

Oh shit. That precise head tilt was Red hearing something bad. “Zach. Is there another way he can get out from his room?”

“No,” David said.

“Yes there is, dad. The tree.”

“Oh, shit.”

They all rushed outside only to see a car leave from behind the house, Zach ignoring them from the back seat. Lucy whined.

“That’s Sammy’s parents,” Leo said.

“Where do they live?” Frank asked.

“Pete,” David said. “you don’t have to…”

“Where.”

“Look, it’s not your job to do that. We’re his parents.”

“They kidnapped your kid. They’re not your regular, boring kind of neighbors, David.”

“We can call the police.”

“David.”

“They’re on Park Drive,” Leo said. “The house with the red roof.”

Frank walked back inside for his jacket with the van keys and grabbed a scarf from the pegs near the door. “Here,” he told Matt when he got out. “Just in case.” Matt took it without a word. “David. You coming?”

“That’s a stupid question.”

“Yeah, I thought it was.” David would die for his kids, he knew. But it wouldn’t come to that.

They left Lucy, Sarah, and Leo at the house and Frank hoped that his eyes had, for once, deceived him. That the patch he thought he’d seen on the driver’s sleeve was not that of the right-wing bastards Curt had told him to look out for after they’d tried to infiltrate his support group. Shit.

David was vibrating next to the car window and finally blurted out, “You could have stayed with Leo and Sarah, you know.”

“I know,” Matt said. “You never know when a lawyer might be useful, though.”

Frank smiled a little. They were almost at the house, and he could see the car parked in front of it. His knuckles were itching. He drove slowly past it, and fuck. That wasn’t a kid’s tree-house or not only. Something metallic was glinting in the lawn, and it definitely wasn’t an abandoned shovel. There were too many antennas on the roof. Fuck.

“Frank.” David leaned forward. “Frank, you just drove past it. Oh shit, Pete, I didn’t mean…”

“We’re not parking in front of their house. And Matt knows.”

“Right. Are you actually a lawyer?”

“Oh, I am,” Matt said.

Frank found a side street where the van would be out of sight of the house, and turned to David. “These people. I think I know who they are, and they’re… Look, we’re going in, and you’re staying here.”

“Zach’s my son!”

“Yeah, and you’re not a fighter, David. They’re after you. You see those gun holes in the treehouse? You see those antennas? For fuck’s sake, they even got five satellite dishes. They're not just after Zach, David. You’re staying here.”

“But…”

“Someone must be ready to drive away when we get back here,” Matt said. He removed his tie and his glasses, put them in the glove box, wrapped the scarf around his head. Slow, methodical.

“We? I mean fine, you can’t drive and I can, but…”

Red smirked. “Drive, no. I really can’t.” He folded his cane and held it out to David. “Hold on to this for me, will you?” And they were out.

They slipped in the little alley between the houses, winding through the trash cans and gardening stuff leaning against the walls, Matt’s hand around his wrist.

“You hear anything?” Frank whispered.

“Kid’s in the basement, crying. I think he’s caught on to who they are, now.”

“K. They’re probably expecting the police through the front door, not us. You take the roof, I take the first floor, all right?” Matt’s fingers squeezed his wrist and he was gone.

They didn’t tell each other to be careful.

It didn’t take long. The fuckers had the gear but none of the training or skills. Frank bashed some heads in, tore a gun off a fumbling teenager and knocked him down with the butt of the weapon, and shot his way through the five or so people there. He heard a window shatter upstairs, probably Matt coming in; the sound of furniture breaking down and a guy’s yell ending abruptly. It wasn’t Red’s voice or Zach’s; Frank didn’t give a shit about anyone else.

They met at the top of the stairs that led to the basement.

“Didn’t find any other kid,” Matt said.

“Me neither. Good.” Sammy mustn’t actually live here, or maybe they’d put him in a safe place for now. Frank looked Red up and down. His jacket was torn and there was blood on his shirt, but no way to tell where it came from. He moved fine, at least. “You alright?”

“Yeah. You sound good.”

“I am.”

Matt rolled his shoulders, and they went down the stairs. The door wasn’t even locked – or rather, it was a flimsy lock. Matt kicked it open and Zach was there, his eyes big and terrified. He’d been crying.

Frank knocked on the open door. “Hey. Fags to the rescue, Zach.”

“I’m...I’m sorry,” Zach tried to say. He didn’t move from the corner he’d been huddling in.

“You ready to go?” Kid nodded, but still stayed there. “Well then. Your dad’s waiting.”

Finally, the kid stood up and crossed the room on wobbly legs.

“Are… are they gone?”

“Well, no one’s going to stop us if we get out now; but we should leave before the cops get here,” Matt said. “Someone must have called them.” He crept up the stairs first, and after listening around gestured for Zach and Frank to come up. “A couple of them are going to wake up soon. Better hurry.”

They made their way out into the alley, Frank pushing Zach in front of him and Matt’s hand on his shoulder so he didn’t have to focus too much on where he was going and could concentrate on listening. It was all weirdly quiet, but Frank would take it over being actually shot at. He shushed Zach when he tried to speak. No need to distract Red; they were relying on his ears to get to the van safe and sound. Right as they were in sight of it, Matt’s hand tightened on Frank’s shoulder and he turned back.

“Run to the van,” he said.

“Matt – ”

“Run.” And then he was jumping from a lean-to to a roof and out of sight.

“How…” Zach said.

“Not now.” The engine was already running when they reached it, and Frank pushed the kid in. Every gunshot behind him made his gut clench. “Drive away, I’m going back for Matt.” He slammed the door shut and ran back the way he’d come. Shit, he trusted Red to distract them for a while, but they were armed, and Matt wasn’t wearing his suit. That was what happened when you didn’t finish off your marks, Frank thought. They got back up and fought again. He should have shot them all.

Once he got back to the house, everything was suspiciously silent. Frank peeked out from behind a tree. Shit, there were five guys pointing rifles at the roof, and of course Matt would be perched up there. They’d got him. Frank crept behind the one closest to him and choked him before he could make a noise, then took his rifle. One down, four (that he knew of) to go. Frank knocked down a second one and stole the knife at his belt, sliced the throat of the third. Just as he was getting ready to dispatch the fourth, a sixth guy ran out and lobbed something at the roof. Frank threw himself face down to the ground, trying not to throw up. The bang was deafening. A shock grenade. Shit, Matt. He would be deaf and blind up there; Frank had to get him. No more time for subtlety.

One batch, two batch - he shot down the three guys he could see in quick succession, the ringing in his ears not really covering the sound of the rifle, and waited to see if anyone else was coming. After a minute he ran into the house, slamming the butt of his weapon in all the heads he found. He didn’t need them to try anything now. He ran up the stairs, found the broken dormer window Matt had used earlier and shimmied out.

Yeah, there he was, slumped against the chimney. Shit. He was out. Frank dragged him back inside, threw him over his shoulder, and ran away before the sirens he could hear could get to the house and spot them. He put Matt down behind the little thicket at the end of the street, and felt for his pulse. It was steady and strong, and he breathed a little easier. They’d just lay low and wait, now. He closed his eyes and listened to Matt’s breathing, the occasional car driving past. One stopped nearby, its engine idling. Frank sat up, on alert.

“Hey, Frank?” Shit, what was David doing back here? “Frank, you can come out now.”

“Shut up!” he hissed.

“Don’t be an idiot. Get out and get in the van, all right?”

Frank glared at David, but carried Matt out and hurried into the back of the van. Zach was there, half-hidden under a old, ratty blanket. His eyes zeroed in on Matt. “Is he…?”

“No.” Frank laid him down carefully and removed the scarf from around his head.

“You’re, you’re all…” Frank looked down at himself. Ah, yeah, he was covered in blood.

“Not mine, kiddo.” Zach’s eyes got even bigger.

“What happened?” David asked. He was already driving away, slowly enough to avoid jostling them too much. “Zach said you kicked ass and took names, but then…?”

“Matt got trapped on the roof. They threw a shock grenade at him.”

“Will he be okay?”

“Probably. But he’s going to be out of it for a while; those really fuck him up.” Frank gently got Matt out of what was left of his jacket. Ah, shit; he was bleeding.

“He got shot!” Zach said.

Frank tore the shirt open and checked the wound. “A graze, but it will hurt like a bitch. Nothing too bad.” He kept his hand on Matt’s skin and didn’t move away when the car stopped moving.

“You’re not going to stay in the van, Frank.”

“Do you often bring bloody men to your place? It’s not Halloween, David.”

“Zach, give him your blanket. There, we’ll hide the most of it and be quick. Just pull that hood down over your face, and you’re good to go.”

“Fine.” And dammit, Matt was waking up. “Let’s go then,” Frank said, and they hurried to the house.

As soon as the door was closed, Leo, Sarah and Lucy were all over them. What happened? Zach, you’re all right! What’s wrong with him? Frank, you’re bleeding! Can I help?

Frank tightened his grip around Matt and focused on David. He couldn't deal with all the voices, all the attention, all the worry flowing all around him. “Guest room upstairs all right?” He didn’t wait for an answer and made for the stairs.

“Yeah, sure. Do you need – no, fine, you’re a big manly man, you don’t.”

No he didn’t. He pushed the door open with his toe and set Matt down on the bed, keeping contact all the way. Lucy jumped on the mattress to settle on Matt, and Frank let her be. He removed Matt’s shoes and sat on the bed, watching Matt’s panic rise along with the realization he couldn’t hear. Matt’s breathing picked up along with terror. Fuck, and it wasn’t even the first time Frank had to see it. He hated it.

He caught Matt’s hand as soon as he reached out to feel the world around him, then the other: put one on Lucy’s head, another on his own face. He didn’t know how else to say, you’re safe, I’m here, you’re good, but it seemed to calm Matt down a little at least.

“Frank? Are you… I can’t hear? I can’t – Frank?”

Most people got less sensitive to those grenades with exposure, but Matt? He shut down. He’d told him one night that sometimes he heard them coming, heard them as they whistled through the air, and sometimes he managed to get away from the worst of it or cover his ears. It lessened the impact, at least. But this time, he’d been stuck on a roof and it had gotten him good. Frank turned his head and kissed Matt’s palm. It made Red smile. That was good.

“Tickles,” Matt whispered. Okay, Frank was never shaving his beard again. Matt’s fingers moved a little, found his split lip and the busted eyebrow.

“How is he?” David asked from the door.

“Deaf, for now. It should come back, it’s not the first time. But while he’s like that, it’s… yeah.”

“Do you need anything?”

“Do you have some first aid stuff?” Frank shifted a little to take both of Matt’s hands in his, inspecting them. “I’d like to clean his knuckles out, to start with.” They were a bit swollen, the skin open in places. “Then the bullet graze.”

“You need some first aid too.”

“It can wait.”

“And you’re… really bloody.”

Frank shrugged. “Not mine.”

“I know.” David waved a hand at Lucy. “Does she always use you as her doggy bed?”

“Sometimes.” Usually she used Matt, and especially when he was not well. Frank had noticed that weight grounded him, that he wore more clothes and put more covers on the bed then. Lisa… Lisa had been like that, too. Frank had held her tight so many nights, when she couldn’t sleep. He was careful not to squeeze Matt’s fingers, but he wanted to. “Got any ice?”

“Yeah, sure.” David turned away, then stopped. “Look Frank, I… thank you. Both of you.”

“Altar boy wouldn’t have stood by and let your kid be taken, you know?”

“Oh, yes. You, on the other hand, you wouldn’t have moved a finger.”

“You know it, David.”

“Yeah.”

Frank heard him go down to the kitchen and looked down at himself. Well, okay, yeah. Maybe he should get cleaned up. But he didn’t want to leave Matt, either. Red turned on his side and Lucy curled into him, and Frank ran his palm up and down Matt’s back. He put some weight behind it, let him feel the pressure. Anchor, he thought. He could anchor Matt right here with him.

“Frank?” He brought Matt’s busted knuckles to mouth yes on them. “Frank, you smell like blood. It’s not yours, is it?” No. He shook his head so Matt could feel it. “You don’t have to stay, you know.” Frank kissed the fingers he was holding.

Sarah knocked on the open door and Matt twitched. “Some ice, and whatever it is I could find in the bathroom.”

“How’s Zach?”

She sighed. “I think he’s going to spend some quality time with a children’s therapist. After David… after, you know, he refused to go. But I think now, well.”

“Yeah.” It was a lot.

She handed him a bag of frozen peas and he settled them over Matt’s hands. Lucy didn’t like the cold so she jumped down from the bed, trotted around it, and jumped up again to lie against Matt’s back.

“David’s on the phone with your Homeland Security friend. He said she should know to keep your names out of it but still get the job done.”

Frank nodded. “Madani. Yeah, she’s all right. As smart as she’s pretty.” Matt’s knee jerked into his hip. Gotcha, he thought.

“I figure you both need to have been elsewhere, right?” Frank nodded. “How is he?”

Frank didn’t answer and waited for Matt to finally say something. “I’m better, Sarah. Thank you.”

“Oh! Oh, you can hear us?”

“It’s… coming back, yeah. Can get out of your hair now.” He made to sit up but Frank pushed him back. “Frank,” he said.

“Oh, no. You’re going to stand up and fall on your face next.” Matt pouted. “I know you, Red. You’re staying put, all right? I’m gonna clean up, you do your meditation thing, and then we’ll see, yeah?”

“Yeah, all right. If Sarah’s…”

“You take whatever time you need, Matt. We owe you.” She put the gauze and antiseptic on a table by the door and looked at Red with a soft, grateful smile that was wasted on him and Frank was absolutely not jealous at all. Fuck, Nelson was right; the wounded handsome duck thing really worked on the ladies.

But Frank was not sharing.

Two hours later, even Leo was giving Matt adoring looks. Shit, she was in her one new crush a week phase, Frank had forgotten. He shared a glance with David. Yeah, Frank’s boyfriend was stealing David’s girls without breaking a sweat and while still looking like a breeze would knock him down, meditation shit or not. Or maybe the newborn colt look was the thing. What did he know anyway?

Matt was gripping his biceps a little harder than usual. Yeah, he wasn’t fully back to himself yet, however much he pretended otherwise. Frank was not fooled for one second. He couldn’t blame him, though; Frank’s shoulder was killing him. One of the assholes had punched a little bit too hard where Gunner’s arrow had almost killed him. He needed to rest, too.

Sarah handed Frank a bag full of leftovers and added a bottle to it.

“Aw, you shouldn’t have,” Matt said to Sarah. Frank gritted his teeth. Did he have to be such a good choirboy?

“Don’t be silly,” she said, “all our guesses on what you’d be like were wrong, so you win.”

Matt started to answer but then David walked down the stairs with Zach in tow and they all fell silent.

The kid had changed into clean clothes, and his face was puffy. Once he was in front of Frank and Matt, he stood there all silent and guilty.

“Are you okay, Zach?” And that was it. Matt had opened the floodgates and the kid started crying and bawling and sniffling and hiccuping.

Matt turned his head a little towards Frank. He probably didn't understand it, all the crying. Frank figured he must have been angry, so angry as a kid, but with the kind of anger that you bottled in and that ate you up and that left you all corroded inside, made more brittle yet held together by that rust all at once. Sometimes, you had to leave the rust be, or it would all collapse. Matt, of course, was not the sort to let anything be. Frank, he’d had the service. It had held him up, given him a purpose, an outlet for that anger. It had made him better, until it had twisted him and spat him out and left him what he was now.

But Zach. “Look, kid.” Frank waited until he looked up. “Look, we’ve been there, you know?”

Kid shook his head. “I’m sorry for what I said. You’re not – what I said. It’s my fault, it’s…” Aw, shit, more waterworks. Frank never knew what to do with those. Whenever Frank Jr cried – but this kid, he wasn’t Frank Jr. He wasn’t Frank’s.

“You’re mad, you’re mad at everything. You gotta… you gotta heal, yeah? Let someone in.”

“But it’s my fault, you almost… it’s my fault!”

“Well, you were instrumental in the dismantling of a terrorist organization, so there’s that.”

“I wasn’t. I helped them!”

“If I were your lawyer, that’s how I’d spin it. It wouldn’t even be a lie, too. Lawyers don’t lie.”

“Do I need a lawyer?” Zach said in a small voice.

“Nah.” Matt smiled like he did sometimes when a kid at St Agnes wanted to talk to him, looking up to him and needing reassurance that they’d get better, that it would get better. It was a smile that said, “I’m not telling you everything but you can make it. You will make it.”

After they’d all said their goodbyes, Frank drove them to Hell’s Kitchen. He didn’t want to risk facing Carlie or Naye the next day, and figured some alone time would do the both of them good.

He had a toothbrush waiting for him there, anyway.