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.
Twisting the knob and opening the door, Frank stepped inside. It was dark, not that Frank expected for the lights to be on, but the contrast from the lit hallway caused for it to take a second for his eyes to adjust back to Matt's apartment, even with the billboard lighting up the entire living room. Frank closed the door and made his way to the kitchen. He set the bag of supplies down and emptied them onto the countertop, separating them into separate piles for medicine, food, and drinks. Before he could go to put the drinks in the fridge, he glanced up at the bed across the open apartment. The sheets and comforter were strewn across the mattress and there wasn't a Matt in sight.
"What the-" Frank started, setting the gatorade in his hand down and making his way to the bedroom. Plenty of concerns crossed his mind, death occurring in about 99% of the scenarios he came up with. Of the not so deadly circumstances Frank could walk in on, Matt was simply going to the bathroom. On the other hand, it's entirely possible that Matt woke up and decided to go back out as Daredevil, this time actually falling off the roof like he almost did earlier. And while Frank really didn't want to walk in on Matt taking a piss, it was the best case scenario he could find himself in.
Frank whipped around the corner of the broken sliding door to Matt's room, to find the bathroom door ajar. He stopped in the door frame and took in everything he was seeing, starting on the fresh vomit that covered the floor and the toilet seat. The smell hit him like a truck, causing him to automatically cover his nose with his shirt and breathe lightly through his mouth.
"Seriously, what the fuck," he muttered, barely noticing the pile of clothes next to the mess on the floor.
He quickly focused on the tub and saw some knees sticking up out of the tub. Frank sighed, at least he wasn't dead.
Wait a second, Frank thought, realizing the asshole's head was nowhere to be found above the water. Shit!
Trying his best not to step in or slide on the vomit, Frank rushed to the side of the tub, not hesitating for a second to rip Matt's body from the water. He grabbed under Matt's arms, lifting him enough to drag his hips over the ledge, his legs following. Frank's mind immediately went over CPR procedure, but before he could perform it, he was met with the thrashing of the body beneath him.
"Wh-what's happening!?" Matt all but yelled. His eyes were frantic, his head tilted, twitched multiple times as he tried to get a reading on his surroundings. His hands pushed Frank's arms from underneath his own, held them by the wrist away from his torso.
"Easy, Red," Frank tried to calm him for the second time that night.
Either Matt didn't notice or didn't care because he curled his legs to press his feet against Frank's body, and kicked out with all his force, using the floor as an added leverage to put behind the kick.
"Matt!" Frank huffed out as he was pushed up and stumbled backward. With a splash and another groan, he fell into the still filled tub. "Shit!"
"F-Frank?" Matt stilled.
"Yeah, it's me! I thought you were drownin' or some shit."
"Oh. Sorry."
More splashes could be heard as Frank got out of the tub. Matt remembered how naked he was and did the best he could to hide himself while still lying on the floor. Frank must have noticed his embarrassment because he spoke again.
"I've seen it all in the marines, Red. And trust me, I ain't lookin'."
That didn't stop Matt's face from turning beet red, he could feel the blood rushing into his cheeks. A towel hit him in the face with a wap! and he gratefully used it to make himself decent.
Now that he wasn't worried about the threat of an intruder anymore, Matt slowly got up off the floor. He shook his head a few times to rid his face and hair of any water droplets. As he did so, a feeling crept its way inside his right ear canal. It continued in, effectively blocking it up.
"Shit..." Matt muttered to himself.
"What?" Frank said, still next to him in the bathroom.
"I have water in my ear. It's throwing off my senses a bit."
"How bad is it?"
"Manageable. It'll clear eventually, but for now I'm just gonna be a little... less coordinated, I guess," Matt explained.
Frank nodded, not sure if Matt could tell. Neither of them said anything for a moment.
"Oh, shit, you must be soaking wet!" Matt suddenly remembered their encounter from a few minutes ago. Man, he was really not in the clearest headspace. "Let me go find you something to change into," he continued, moving to exit the bathroom. "I know that you're larger than me," he smiled to himself, "so I'll grab the largest clothes I own. Hope they'll fit"
There was silence as he rifled through his drawer. Matt's smile faded absently. Why was he trying to make pleasant conversation with Frank? More importantly, why was Frank back in his apartment?
"I don't blame you," Frank's voice broke the silence.
Matt coughed before responding, "Huh?"
"For kicking me," he took the clothes that Matt had handed to him. "I don't blame you, I would've done the same thing. In your situation. I mean... not being able to see, in situations like this..." Frank took his time to find the right words, "that's probably disorienting as shit. And I just grabbed you out of nowhere. So, yeah, I don't blame you for reacting the way you did."
Matt had already turned back around to grab clothes for himself. "It's not always like this, I'm normally more on my game. But, yeah, I'll admit," he faced Frank again with his own clothes in hand, "being forcefully yanked out of a tub while you're sick and incapacitated can be a little disorienting."
"Yeah, alright, smart-ass. I thought you were drowning," Frank smiled. He took a second to glance around Matt's room, "You get dressed in here, yeah? I'll uh... I'll go in the living room."
"Sounds like a plan," Matt said. They could both feel the strangeness in the air, how unfamiliar this dynamic felt between them. This wasn't normal, it wasn't expected. It was entirely new, a scenario neither of them could imagine, yet here they were, struggling to navigate it. The short bursts of playful banter followed by an awkward pause or shift in subject or tone, it was hard. Yet neither of the two ended it.
Well, admittedly, Matt had tried. But Frank came back. What was with the people in his life doing that? He always pushed them away yet his friends always came back to help him. And now the Punisher was included in that list of people. Maybe he's not really a friend, but... an acquaintance of sorts. Is this what normal people did? How normal relationships worked? Matt was always envious of normal people. Not of their sight, but their normalcy. He only had 9 years of life to be a normal kid, and even then that word felt foreign to him. He never really formed significant relationships to anyone growing up, his secret weighing him down and pushing everyone out. He tried, sure, but it ultimately grew too much to bear. But not for Foggy. Not for Karen. They came back, they tried to understand, tried to help. Was that normal? Matt could never say. What he did know that wasn't normal was him standing in his bedroom with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist, face to face with the Punisher. Yeah, definitely not normal.