quietplacelogs | III. (open-ish) i said i've been through a lot of noise

III. (open-ish) i said i've been through a lot of noise

featuring: hotdog & his (close) cr
what's happening? frank is suffering from vaccine side-effects and has been ordered to go to the clinic to take care of it; meanttime max has arrived! and just undergone debarking surgery.
day: march 1 (night) & march 2 all day
content warnings: sick man, sick dog, the whine (not)heard round the world.
notes: if it's feasible that frank or micro would have told your character where he is, then feel free to show up. or if you are sick maybe you are unlucky enough to encounter this jerkbutt. hit me up if you want something specific!

march 1

[ after frank gifted jessica a lovely murder basket, she suspects he isn't feeling himself (joke's on her tbh.) since only just injecting him with the experimental drug that would (with any luck at all) make him immune to kilgrave's powers, she assumes frank's weird behavior is a side effect and sends him to the clinic to get checked out. after akira puts him on bedrest, he's open to visitors, and of course the first person he wants to see isn't a person at all. he texts hawkeye and micro furiously: ] bring me my fucking dog, you assholes.

[ okay, so he might be a little testy. once a sleepy max just out of surgery is brought to the clinic, too, the dog will lay at the foot of his bed, alternating between lazily guarding and even lazier dozing. frank hates being stationary. he hates feeling useless. the aches and pains are taking a toll on him, but not as much as the rising tide of frustration and irritability. even if he's usually not a chill guy by a landslide, today he's especially twitchy. he'll likely be up long into the night fantasizing different and creative ways to make kilgrave hurt. oh, hi kids. didn't see you there. ]

march 2

[ frank hasn't slept much. between the fever and refusing to take anything stronger than aspirin, he's sweating and out of it, an angry red rash climbing steadily up the back of his neck to peek out of his black jumpsuit collar. the blankets are on his feet, but he keeps kicking them off. he hates being sick, and he knows he's a terrible patient besides. maria always used to scold him for acting like a child; or worse than their actual children since they took being sick like a champ, just happy for the day away from school. he could endure torture and pain aplenty, max the dog had witnessed both first-hand. he lived in bunkers buried in the sand and traveled to countries that were just holes in the ground, but a little fever and nausea and he's ready to die. every time a cold shiver wracks his spine, he wishes for it even; picturing the bullet in his skull. the doctors telling him a shift in millimeter increment would have killed him. should have, even the way it is.

max is on the floor now, his big block head peeking out from underneath the cot. he watches the door, alerting frank to any new arrival with a tiny growl before shutting his eyes again. the noise little more than a rattly rumble from the dog's barrel chest. the message is clear: you take this one, dad. i'll get the next. ]

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[ frank hates hospitals too, somehow always causing trouble when he's in one -- go figure. but he's also used to them, their impersonal white walls reminding him of all that he'd lost. of what he'd never get back. will is like a mirage for his fever-addled mind, a tan blur who waves in and out of focus with smaller points of colored light moving between his fingers. it lulls him into somewhere between sleeping and consciousness, laying his head on the pillow for the first time since he arrived. max pillows his chin on frank's ankle, his boots still strapped tight around his feet, and heaves out the tiniest dog-sigh. ]

[The thing about being scared is that it's exhausting. The clinic doesn't get any less upsetting or full of painful reminders for Will, he just gets tired of thinking about them. Besides, there's a dog. He loves dogs.

So, once he's gathered his courage, Will moves from sitting on the chair to sitting on the end of the bed, reaching to let the dog sniff his hand first and prove he's not a threat. He's tiny. So he can fit in the space between Frank's leg and the edge of the bed, cross-legged and hunched over his sketchbook. He's almost finished with -- there we go. Will carefully and quietly peels the sheet of paper from the glue binding the spine together, much less noisy than tearing paper would be, and sets the first drawing up against the foot of the bed.

It's the woods, around back of Frank's house, rendered in spindly brown and red and black lines, with vivid green and yellow leaves, much brighter than they are in the real world. A technicolor version of the view from home. Will pauses to examine his own work critically, reaching to gently scratch at the base of the dog's ears. After a moment he takes the drawing back and adds the dog, stretched out at the bottom of a tree, panting happily, pink tongue lolling. Much better.]

[ one eye cracks open when will shifts to sit at the edge of the bed with max. he would feel bad for not being more entertaining, but between max and will's drawings the boy seems to have himself covered in that department. his other eye opens, attempting to study the picture from across the cot with a bleary squint. he thinks those are trees, he likes the colors. but the swift edit has a persistent smile tugging up one corner of his lips, flashing an OK sign whenever will turns back around. for max's part, he lays his heavy head over the page in will's lap, attempting to show his approval with big brown eyes. ]

[It's all good, Frank, you look kinda...dead right now. Will's not going to bother you too much. He just wants to be close-by, and make sure you keep breathing and all that.

The sudden big dog head over his paper makes Will startle a little, then exhale slightly louder in a very soft laugh. His pencil gets tucked back into a pocket and he gently cradles Max's head between his palms, smushing his face very softly, like big smushy dogs seem to love. A moment more and Will's leaning down, resting his forehead against the dog's, breathing in slowly, evenly, trying to stop trembling all over. Dog breath and smushy dog faces help with impending panic.]

[ dead or not, will is making it hard to stay neutral so he very slowly sits up to watch the pair. he can't help but smile at the way max tolerates the boy's attention, seeming to soak up whatever he can get. no one would ever guess that he was a dog for the mob before frank got a hold of him. he leans forward once he's able and sets his hand on will's shoulder, squeezing gently. he's trying to reassure the boy: he's safe, he's not going anywhere. he can be relied upon. ]

[Max is the best dog, Will's going to steal him, sorry Frank, you can keep the drawing. The shoulder-touch has the kid twitching a little, before smushing the dog's face once more and straightening up. His device is right there, but he writes his question on the notepad instead, holding it up.]

are you sick? you look pretty sick.

[ frank's hand meekly falls away when will straightens up and he nods, not seeing a point in lying. it takes him a moment to find his device on the bed behind him, but then he's typing, showing will after since he doesn't have his in his hand. ]

i'm not contagious don't worry

[Have a look of extreme skepticism.

Will wavers for a moment, before leaning forward, pressing the back of his hand to Frank's forehead, gently. He doesn't quite know why -- it's what his mom does when he's sick. Frank's mom isn't here. Someone has to do it. That's all.

Then, wrinkling his nose and switching to the device (if you INSIST):]

is it the flu? you're all sweaty and pale and stuff like it's the flu.

[ he goes a bit cross-eyed when will puts his hand to his forehead. he's warm, but steadily fighting his fever, thus the sweatiness... sorry buddy. ]

something like that. it should pass soon

[Will is not convinced, brow furrowing, even as he goes back to letting the dog. After a moment, he'll pick out the words he really wants to ask:]

is it that guy? is he back in your head?

[ he swallows, then slowly shakes his head. will wouldn't know if kilgrave had him still, he can't prove it, but... he needs will to know he's okay. because he is, despite his dramatics and how crappy he feels at the moment. ]

no. jess put him under arrest. we don't have to worry about him for a while.

[Will relaxes a little, tense shoulders slumping down from their rigid position.]

okay. good. she told me she was a cop.

did she come to visit you? [Asked with the most knowing eyebrow-arch ever.]

[ that makes him smile. jessica jones and frank castle the buddy cop silent motion picture. what a fucked up place this is. but the question wipes the smile right off his face. ]

no. why would she? [ defensive much??!?! ]

because you're friends. [Will's frowning a little now, like the answer's obvious. Or he's worried. You been ditched, daddo?]

[ oh... are they friends? he wants to think so. he's always wanted that, since the beginning. ]

she's not really the visiting type.

[From Will's perspective, yep. Sure are.]

maybe hospitals make her sad? or scared? or she doesn't want to see you hurt or sick.

[ wow, will. that's... oddly perceptive. and he hates it. thanks ]

maybe kiddo. she's a busy lady.

[That's what Will's here for. Artwork and being too damn perceptive.]

would it make you feel better if she visited?

[ YES, he thinks loudly, biting his lips against an actual verbal response. the vaccine is making him irritable, and perhaps slightly too honest. that could just be the fever too though. ]

i already feel better because you're here [ will and mike his two gifts on this terrible awful no good day. ]

[Will raises and lowers a shoulder in a shrug, but he can't hide the small, pleased smile. Someone he admires likes him! And wants him around! This is literally the first time this has ever happened!!]

when i was in the hospital last year for a long time, everyone i cared about came and visited. it was nice. it made stuff less awful.

[ a long illness explains the sunken eyes and sallow features of the boy at last, but frank is afraid to ask more. is he still sick? what if there's nothing that can be done for him here, in this in between place? frank smiles softly at the story either way, not wanting to clue will into his worry. ]

that's how i feel. i'm not used to all the attention.

[Have a soft, huffy sound, Frank, and Will shifting to sit a little closer, still smoothing his hands over Max's ears, scritching up and down his neck.]

a lot of people care about you. you're nice to all the kids here. a lot of kids here aren't used to that from adults. like eddie and mike.

if it's bugging you, i can tell them to stop, though.

[ he leans forward a little when will scoots closer, not consciously. he smiles at max who looks happier than a pig in shit right now. all these people loving on him. he's never had that either. like these kids. slowly, frank nods his understanding. ]

not saying i mind. maybe we could just keep this conversation between us?

[Have a knowing look, Frank.]

cause you've got a reputation to uphold?

[ STOP CallING ouT youR FATHER. ugh ] somethin like that [ have a cheesy wink for your efforts, will. ]

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