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

[oorah]

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. ]

Comments

[oorah]

whiskey counts as please, right?

[ he has a tall bottle of wild fowl waiting for hawkeye back at the clinic, wishing he could partake right now himself. his head is still pounding though and he knows it won't end well. frank holds himself back from sending another mean text and just lays back on his cot over the covers, boots still on, and stares up at the ceiling. this vaccine better work after all he and jess have been through going against this guy. and now that it's lowkey making him feel like he wants to die. for a guy with a deathwish, that shouldn't inspire such dramatics, but. well, here we are.

he'll be in more or less the same spot when hawkeye, max and micro arrive, his device on his chest and his arm thrown over his eyes to block out some of the light. he finally hears the door, silent though it is, and then the patter of dog feet against the floor. his heart swells and he forces himself to sit up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed even as the whole room swims as a result. matt's head butts up under his hand and he pets the dog absently, grateful and happy that he seems no worse for wear. he even looks up at the two men and signs: ] Thank you. [ he even leaves off the 'douchebags' even if it's only because he doesn't have a perfect translation for that one yet. he points to the bottle he set aside for hawkeye and continues petting the dog, feeling some of his tension finally seep away. ]

[gaits]

Got it.

[ and up he goes, david lifting max up by his front paws as they set him carefully on the floor. it takes a little bit, but he eventually steadies himself and they start the slow process of going to the clinic. the whole thing is at least worth it when david sees dog and owner reunite, and he doesn't really remember the last time frank looked this happy since he got here. the things he does for this asshole.

he flashes frank an okay sign and sits next to him on the cot, close for him to lean against if he needs to. he's pretty sure hawkeye deserves the thanks more than him; david didn't have much of an idea of what he was doing, but he's mostly just glad that max made it through. ]

[swill]

[Everything about this is nuts, and maybe that's why Hawkeye feels so at ease with it now that all's said and done and he's​ screwing the cap off the whiskey bottle, pointing the neck to Micro in a silent offering to share. Again, he's keen on putting space between himself and the dog. It gives him a good view of the show. A boy and his dog.

Only the boy is a behemoth and the dog is those blocky-headed kinds Hawkeye has only ever really seen in Boston, not a trusty Labrador. And the background is a makeshift clinic room in rundown France, not some farmer's field somewhere. Norman Rockwell would still be proud of the scene, he thinks. And drinks.

And it's killing him that he can't find a patient chart attached to the foot of that bed, or laying anywhere either visible or accessible, so the doctor catches Mirco's gaze, gestures to their boy, and shrugs.

What's the matter with him? Eh, but he's not worried- for better or for worse.]

[oorah]

[ he rubs max's ears and smiles softly, not paying the other two much attention. he's nearly in tunnel vision as it is, but his dog being here just narrows the focus. for once he's content to let other people "talk" over him like he's not in the room. while he doesn't much care of hawkeye knows about the vaccine, it's probably best to keep the pool of knowledge small even if kilgrave is contained for the time being. ]

[gaits]

[ since hawkeye's offering, david shrugs a little in a why not? sort of gesture, taking a swig and passing it back. he glances at frank briefly before taking out his device to answer the other man. he thinks hawkeye missed most of the kilgrave action, but david figures him knowing about the vaccine might be a good idea if they're going to pass it on to the kids later. ]

Testing out a vaccine
We weren't sure what the side effects would be

[swill]

[Because nothing says bonding like backwash.]

Hhe looks like he's had his second rabies jab

[Hawk figures now is as good a time as any to question which vaccine was so brand-spankin-new it needed testing on this particular human guinea pig.

He makes sure the space is clear and then reclines against the counter. It's just too much work to stand upright​. With how primally exhausted the other two men in front of him look, Hawkeye reckons they'll at least understand.]

are we really really sure the pup is safe I think that tail is beginning to create some lift. And I think our boy might need a leash

[oorah]

[ frank finally picks up his device to try and get caught up, his other hand still on max. ]

the clinic is soundproofed ok relax
he doesn't need a leash
he's a good boy

[ frank signs Good boy at the dog so he might start learning it. ]

[gaits]

Yeah something like that
Pretty sure the guy this vaccine was created for is like a walking case of rabies anyway.

[ david is always exhausted all the time, every day of the week. running after frank is a full time job he never wanted, who knew. ]

I can vouch for the dog
He was good during the procedure anyway, right?

[swill]

who said the leash was for fido?
if this place is soundproofed why isn't anybody talking?
why am I suddenly anxious about cooties?
you guys really know how to make a guy feel out of the loop but you know what, answer the above at your leisure I'm in no rush

I still think​ hotdog would look dashing in leather. classic,
sturdy, thinks its macho but petite ladies have a field day with it anyway

[oorah]

don't call him fido

[ that's what the kitchen irish guy called him before frank cut him from corner to corner :) ]

it's a long story. but it'll turn real short for the cootiemonster himself if this vaccine fucking works.

i do look great in leather though