"we hunt differently,
i take it slow,
while you sink your teeth
right in through the bone.
we are not pure."
- One of My Kind,
Cece And The Dark Hearts & AG

╳

Frank keeps a firm, supportive hand around my waist as we stumble out of the bar.

Sirens echo in the distance as he lays me down in the back of his van.

Frank retrieves a gun from a black duffel bag beside me before pulling himself into the drivers seat. He starts the engine and immediately accelerates out of the carpark.

With Frank's focus now on the road, I stop the pressure on my wound, so my body can push the bullet out. Hopefully some time soon..

I sit up slowly, pleased to find the dizziness from the tranq has at least worn off. My knuckles however, remain split.

"Hey, Jean? Jean, can you hear me?" Frank calls from the front of the van.

"Yeah."

"I know it hurts, but you're gonna be all right. You need to know that." he reassures me.

"I know." I mumble.

He's the one that needs to know that.
He's fearful for my injuries, and while it's touching and endearing, he needn't worry at all. But how can I tell him that?

I breath out a sigh and make my way to the front of the van.

"You're gonna be all right." Frank continues. "I just have to find the nearest hospital-"

"No! No hospitals!" I gasp, perching myself between the front seats.

"What are you doin'?" a startled Frank chides, looking me up and down.

"I can't go to a hospital. Please, no-"

"Lay down." he grumbles, eyes back on the road. "You're gonna be okay."

"I won't be if I go to a hospital." I stress, ignoring Frank's worried protests as I climb over into the passenger seat. "Just let me out, okay? Then maybe get yourself to a hospital-"

"No." he cuts me off.

"Oh, so you don't want a hospital either, huh? But you're gonna make me g-" I stop talking when my eyes catch headlights out the back windows, fast approaching. "We're being followed.."

Frank glances in his mirrors and then presses the accelerator to the floor. Until another vehicle springs from a side street ahead, blocking the road in front of us.

The van's tires screech as Frank hits the brakes, while the car behind us pulls up, blocking us in.

In front of us, three people hop out of the vehicle and stand together, guns in hand.

Frank is quick to wind down his window and spray them with bullets.

Putting the van in reverse, he continues to fire his gun until he collides into the car behind us. The car is spun to the side and Frank hits the breaks once again.
He puts the van into park and hops out, limping his way over to shoot the people still inside smashed car.

As he climbs back into the van, I notice his seat is damp and dark with blood. As too is the side of his jeans.

"Frank, you're hurt.." I comment, brows furrowed. But he ignores me, forcing the van into gear.

We drive past the cars and the bodies, and off into the night.

╳

"You did it again." I mumble, while Frank steers the van back onto the correct side of the road.

It's the third time he's drifted lanes trying to fight off sleep.

He's exhausted and we've been driving for hours in the pitch black of night, the only light on the road coming from his headlights.

As expected, Frank says nothing and ignores me.

"You should really let me drive." I offer for the tenth time.

"You ain't drivin'." he mumbles gruffly.

"Why? You keep falling asleep. You'll end up driving us into some ditch and we'll freeze to death in the middle of nowhere." I argue, speculating a little dramatically.

He continues to ignore me, staring at the road ahead with heavy eyelids.

"Look, you should at least stop and get some rest.." I insist, more gently.

"Are you gonna keep an eye on me? Make sure I don't bleed out?" Frank asks sarcastically.

He doesn't exactly trust me after what happened back at the bar. But clearly he trusted me enough to step in and help me. Just not enough for me to help him..

"Of course." I assure sincerely. "It's the least I can do."

Frank just scoffs and continues driving.

"Fine." I huff, and angle my body away from him to face the window. "Kill yourself just to prove a point. How very male of you."

He lets out a wry laugh and I shoot him a glare, offended and annoyed that he won't let me help.

We continue on in silence.

I run my fingers over the knuckles on my right hand. Feeling through the dried blood, it seems they're finally closing. But they're still far from healed.

My attention's drawn back to Frank as he shifts beside me.

He runs his hand down his neck and chest, his fingers slipping under his shirt, searching for his necklace. He looks down at his vacant chest.

"..Goddamnit." he mumbles under his breath, so low, a normal person would've missed it. He raises his head and leans it back on the head rest, looking defeated.

"Oh.." I mutter quietly.

I'd forgotten about that until now.

I dig into my pocket, pull out his chain and offer it to him. "You lost it, during the chaos.."

He glances repeatedly between my hand and my face, before taking the chain from my palm, his fingertips grazing my skin.

"..Thank you." he mutters softly, and drops it into his shirt pocket.

Then we fall back into silence. But I do feel his eyes on me while I stare out the windscreen.

A short while later, we pass a road sign, indicating civilisation mere miles away. Frank takes the exit to Larkville, and at dawn, we pull into a motel and park outside the 24 hour reception.

"How's your shoulder?" Frank asks lowly.

"It's fine." I answer dismissively.

"Okay. Go get us a room." he tells me.

"Just one?"

"Just one." he affirms.

He offers me cash but I don't accept it. And not just because his money is stained with blood. After all he's done tonight, I'm not about to make him pay for a room, too.

Hopping out of the van, I hear a little ting on the pavement. I look down and see the bullet from my shoulder next to my shoe.

"Hey?" Frank says and I whirl around to him, worried he's noticed.

"..Yeah?"

"Don't do anything stupid, you got it?" he says.

"Too late for that, isn't it?" I comment, before shutting the door and heading inside.

I pull my hair forward to cover the bullet wound in my shoulder, and stick my hand in my pocket, to hide my knuckles.

I greet the receptionist with a friendly smile.

"You want a room?" she asks with a bored and tired tone.

"Please."

"Single or twin?" she asks.

I briefly flirt with the idea of one bed, but I'm sure Frank and I could both use the space. I've already been enough of a hindrance for him.

"I'll take a twin, thank you."

I hand the receptionist the cash and while she's processing my payment, I look out the glass doors at the van. Frank watches me through the windscreen.

He looks truly exhausted..

I feel overwhelming guilt for his condition. I'm glad he's finally decided to rest. Otherwise, I think I would've had to knock him out.

The receptionist hands me the room key and tells me where to go. After thanking her, I walk back out into the cool morning air and climb into the warm van.

"Room number seven, around back." I tell Frank, and he restarts the engine.

We make the short drive around the back of the motel and hop out.

Frank's limp has worsened and his pace is slow.

He tries to pick up his big duffle bag but I grab it before he can, and heave it over my good shoulder.

"Hey-"

"I got it, Frank." I tell him, passing him the room key.

He slowly limps over and unlocks the door, pushing it wide open. "Get inside." he orders lowly.

I walk in and drop his bag on the first bed, while he slips the Do Not Disturb sign on the door handle, before locking it.

He should've been wearing one of those around his neck when we met..

Frank turns around and we look at each other in tense silence.

This is going to be very different to our last motel experience..

A/ N

references: adapted dialogue from episode 2, 'Fight or Flight', from The Punisher, S2.

Also, the song of this chapter is like the title track for this fic. It's the song that inspired the title of my story. 

Thanks for reading! And I hope you have a lovely day!

- K