#saturday was spent at the vet all day because he pulled some of his stitches

[cold-neon-ocean]

Adjusting to the new day job schedule has been so draining but I’m getting used to the routine. I’ve been poking at comms when I can on my off hours and I’m hoping to have the current queue wrapped up soon, it’s just been slow going, I appreciate the patience ;;

[emily-james-barnes]

Too Much Trouble

Summary: You get to know your neighbor Frank when he needs help

Pairing: Frank Castle x Reader

Word Count: 3,700 (yikes)

Warnings: mentions of violence, language, injuries, medical procedures, blood, broken bones, difficulty breathing, needles… Frank? Is Frank a warning?

A/N: this is for @atari-writes who’s been nagging me for a Frank fic (jk hun I love you) I really don’t think this is very good… but here it is… (also @deanssweetheart23 because you’re my twin and you read all the things)

You didn’t really know much about your neighbor across the hall.

You knew his name was Frank, and that more often than not he looked like somebody had been using him as a punching bag. Not that you ran into him much. Once in a while you’d see him in the hall or the stairwell, and the two of you would say a quiet hello before moving about your business. He was a quiet neighbor, kept mostly to himself, and only occasionally made a hell of a racket in the hall coming home at an ungodly hour. 

Your German shepherd Sam wasn’t too fond of the racket at night, but otherwise he wasn’t particularly wary of Frank. You’d expected him to be more protective of you, since that seemed to be his main purpose in life, growling at anyone dumb enough to get too close. He should have been wary of the hulking man, but for some reason he seemed to like him. He’d wag his tail when the two of you ran into Frank, and more often than not, Frank would glance down at him and you swore something would soften in his hard features. Sometimes you wondered what exactly Frank’s deal was. Maybe he was a professional fighter or something. That would explain all the injuries… but then again, Hell’s kitchen could be a pretty tough place, especially lately. Part of you wanted to leave, to get out of there, away from the violence, but you couldn’t. You could hardly afford your rent, let alone moving again. Being a veterinary student left you with little time and even less money, but somehow you were managing.

Part of you was drawn to Frank, maybe just out of curiosity, or maybe because he seemed so lonely. He never had any company, as far as you could tell, and you never saw him talking to anyone. Maybe that was why Sam  would try to say hello to him; he could sense that Frank needed somebody. But you couldn’t work up the courage to say anything other than a casual greeting. You were someone that played things safe, and in hell’s kitchen, that mostly meant keeping to yourself.

The wide-eyed girl across the hall had caught Frank’s attention almost immediately. It wasn’t that he was interested, even though his eyes would wander down to her ass when she walked by. He just wanted to know who was living so close to him. However, it only took a few brief encounters to know that she wasn’t a threat to anybody. That dog might have been, but he never even blinked an eye at Frank. Useless animal. What was the point of a dog like that if it wasn’t going to protect her?

Within a few weeks, Frank had her schedule down pretty well. Lying awake during the day when he should have been sleeping, he could easily hear her coming and going, almost always with the dog on her heels. She went running early in the morning, spent an hour presumably getting ready for work, and then left again. By the time she came home in the evening, her footsteps were heavier, clearly indicating her exhaustion. Whatever she did, she worked hard. She drove an old beat up jeep, did her laundry on Saturday nights, and went grocery shopping on Sundays. Despite knowing her schedule, Frank found himself running into her sometimes in the hall or on the stairs. She would say a quiet hello, making an obvious effort not to stare at the newest bruises or cuts that were visible on his face or hands, and keeping the dog on a tight leash like she was afraid it might attack him. Frank wished it would. At least then she’d have somebody looking out for her, trying to protect her. And god knew she needed that living near him.

He considered moving again, but it would be a hassle, and he’d just gotten used to the place. As far as he knew, it was still safe. No one had figured out where he lived yet, and he was careful to keep it that way. Unfortunately, things didn’t always go as planned on his evening excursions…

You were coming home from a graveyard shift at the vet clinic when San nearly jerked your arm off.

“Sam!” You scolded, but he was too busy physically dragging you across the sidewalk to pay any attention. You didn’t know what the hell had gotten into him. He was well trained and almost never pulled on his leash, but there he was, yanking you along to a spot just outside your building. When he looked up at you and whined, you knew something must be wrong. “What’s going on, bud?” You asked quietly, glancing around in concern. In that neighborhood, you never knew what kind of trouble might pop up, and it was three in the morning, a dangerous time in any area. But Sam wasn’t growling, his hair wasn’t standing on end like it did when he was getting riled up. He looked concerned if that was possible, and as he turned towards the alley, something made you let go of the leash. “Find it,” you whispered, and your dog darted off into the shadows. You hovered nervously near the front of the building, staying under the streetlight, waiting for Sam to return.

But then he barked.

“Shit…” you muttered, pulling out your phone and turning on the flashlight. “Sam!” You hissed, stepping into the alley and glancing around warily. What the hell could he have found? Another soft whine alerted you to his presence nearby, along the wall. “Holy shit. Frank?” You asked, alarmed. Your neighbor was slumped against the brick wall, one arm wrapped around himself. He looked like hell. His face was all smashed up, he was covered in bruises and blood, and one of his eyes was swollen shut. The other one squinted in the bright LED light from your phone, and you quickly lowered it.

“What are you doin out here, sweetheart? Don’t you know what time it is?” He wheezed, the sound of his voice only making you more concerned. What the hell had happened to him? And why was he in the alley?

“Really, that’s your question?” You asked, kneeling beside him and patting Sam on the head. Your dog was sitting right next to Frank like he was intent on keeping him safe. “I need to call you an ambulance…”

“No!” Frank said urgently, his free hand swatting at your phone but missing, “don’t call the police.”

“Frank you need a doctor-”

“I said no.” You scowled at him, slowly putting the pieces together. Frank seriously looked like he’d been hit by a truck, dropped out of a window and then beaten to a pulp. He was hiding in the alley next to the building, or that was as far as he’d been able to make it in his condition. And he refused to go to a hospital or get the police involved in any way. This really couldn’t be good. There was every indication that Frank was serious trouble. Too much trouble. But he was in trouble. His color was bad from what little clear skin you could see, and there was blood on the hand pressed against his side. Not to mention you were pretty sure that you’d have to physically drag Sam away from him if you tried to leave. And your parents had raised you to be a decent human being.

“Can you stand up? We should at least get you inside,” you said, changing tactics. Frank grunted and staggered to his feet, trying to wave you off. But he stumbled and you ducked under one of his arms, pulling it across your shoulders to give him some stability. The stairs were a trial and a half, since Frank could hardly lift his feet and he weighed half a ton, but finally the three of you arrived on your floor. That was when he decided to pass out. “Fuck!” You yelped as he suddenly became dead weight, doing your best not to let him completely crash to the floor. Sam whined as you looked down at the unconscious Frank and sighed. You certainly couldn’t leave him there, either. God damn…

A few hours later, you collapsed onto your bed with a soft groan, completely exhausted. You were pretty sure Frank wasn’t going to die. In fact, he better not die after all the work you’d just done. He was currently on your couch, still unconscious despite the pain you must have caused while patching him up. You’d set his broken nose the best you could and stitched up several different lacerations, including the nasty gash in his side. After dealing with the worst of his injuries, you’d cleaned up as much of the blood as you could, locating a number of smaller cuts that you’d missed before. Then you’d glued those together, Sam watching diligently the entire time.

You weren’t exactly sure what Frank’s plan had been, coming home so brutally injured. If you hadn’t found him, he might have died out there. And he was really lucky you had medical knowledge. Granted, you were used to working on animals, but people were similar enough that you were moderately confident doing a quick patch job.

You flinched as Sam jumped up onto the bed, startling you. He whined, giving you a worried look before scampering back into the next room. That couldn’t be good.

“Where are you going?” You asked, stopping Frank in his tracks. He was almost to the front door, his back to you, but slowly he turned. The sight of his mashed up face made you wince a little even though you’d just finished stitching him up.

“Home,” he grunted, turning away from you again.

“I don’t think so,” you said sharply, stepping past him to stand in front of the door, effectively blocking the only exit, “not until you explain.” It sort of terrified you to stand there staring up at Frank’s stony expression, waiting for him to speak or shove you out of the way.

“A question for a question,” he offered, his voice a low rumble.

“Fine. What the hell happened to you?” You demanded, making him sigh and return to the couch.

“Got beat up. How’d you do all this?” He asked, obviously referring to all the stitches. You were annoyed about the lack of information but technically he’d answered you.

“I’m a vet student,” you replied, crossing your arms, “why no cops?”

“Pick a different question.”

“No.”

“I’m not answering that.”

“Then I’m not moving,” you said firmly, leaning back against the door. “I just dragged your sorry ass up here and used half my emergency supplies to patch you up. Not to mention you got blood everywhere. I think I deserve some information.”

“You don’t want that information.”

“Try me.”

“Sweetheart.”

“Frank.”

He should have left. He should have pushed her aside and left. Left her apartment, the building, maybe even the city.

But something about the way she was looking at him without any fear in her eyes… The way she’d taken care of him, patched him up.

Something made him tell her.

At first Frank hoped he’d scare her off. But then he found himself telling half-truths. Revealing just enough to give her the information she wanted but not enough to put her in danger. Maybe not enough to terrify her.

And she didn’t run.

The color drained out of her face and she sat down rather hard on the couch he’d just hauled himself off of. But otherwise she didn’t react. All she said was “okay.” And when Frank went to leave, she called after him that she didn’t want to have to fix him up again, but that it had been good practice.

That made Frank chuckle a little, but his smile faded quickly when the movement hurt his face. It was a sharp reminder of who and what he was, that he had no business talking to that girl, thinking about her long after he was collapsed in his own bed. He was dangerous, a threat to not just her, but everyone around him. So Frank stayed away from her. He became more careful about his coming and going, sure to avoid being out and about when she was.

He should have known that couldn’t last.

You jolted awake with a start, eyes flicking over to where Sam was lying on the bed beside you. His head was raised, ears pricked towards the hall. A dull thud made you jump, and Sam hopped off the bed, padding out into the main room. You followed him slowly, peeking around the corner. Sam didn’t seem upset, and he wasn’t growling or barking, but you never knew what could be happening. Another thud made you flinch, revealing the source of the noise to be your front door. What the hell?

You crept over to the door, standing on your toes to look out the peep hole, swearing as you realized who it was.

“Jesus Christ, Frank!” You gasped, unlocking and ripping the door open. You hadn’t seen him since that night you’d found him in the alley, which would have worried you if you hadn’t heard him thumping up or down the stairs every now and then. Even though you knew he was safe, it sort of upset you that he was avoiding you. Maybe he was worried you’d talk to the police about him, tell someone about his suspicious behavior. The thought hurt, especially because you’d been unable to get him off your mind despite knowing he was an incredibly dangerous person to be around. Something about him had snagged your attention. He was quiet and strong and seemed to like Sam, and despite the trouble he got himself involved in on a regular basis, you were quickly falling for your mysterious neighbor. You knew he didn’t think of himself as a hero, but what he did… the man fought criminals. It wasn’t legal in the slightest. The punisher was brutally efficient and he killed people, but he was working for the greater good. 

And it looked like he’d gotten himself in over his head this time.

Frank staggered forward into the apartment since he had been leaning on the door, and you quickly moved to catch him, barely managing to keep him upright. He was breathing loudly but shallowly, his right hand pressed over his left shoulder and he was covered in blood. You were astounded he’d made it all the way up three flights of stairs. “What the hell happened to you?” You asked, kicking the door shut behind him and leading him into the kitchen. He didn’t answer, grunting as you forced him to lie down on the table and swearing when the movement pulled at his countless wounds. “Frank I need to know what happened,” you insisted, snatching your med kit off the counter and pulling out a stethoscope. His breathing was ragged and raspy and sounded strained, and despite all the blood, that was your main concern.

“Shot,” he wheezed, making you glance at his shoulder in alarm, “hit by a truck.”

Well at least that explained it. Working quickly, you listened to his breathing, moving the stethoscope from one side of his chest to the other. And what you heard wasn’t good at all.

“Traumatic pneumothorax…” you muttered, dropping the instrument to hang across your shoulders.

“What?” Frank gasped.

“You’ve got a punctured lung, Frank.”

“Well… Un-puncture it…”

“I’ve never done that before,” you said, “and I work on animals, not people. You need to go to the hospital.”

“No,” Frank growled, making you roll your eyes. The man was ridiculous. With a frustrated sigh, you ripped open his jacket and prodded along his chest, looking for-

“Fucking shit!” Frank exclaimed as you found his broken ribs, jerking up off the table. You shoved him back down onto the hard surface with a scowl, digging through your bag.

“Frank, you broke at least a couple ribs. There’s air in your chest cavity and it’s pressing on your lung, keeping it from expanding. I’d have to get this,” you said, holding up the biggest syringe you had, “between your ribs and into your chest cavity without hitting anything important. That will let the air out, but even then, your lung might be too damaged and it might not work.”

“Do it.”

“I could kill you, Frank.”

“You wouldn’t do a thing like that,” he wheezed, giving you a little grin and making you sigh.

“It’s gonna hurt.”

“Everything hurts.”

“You’re insane, you know that?” You asked, counting along his ribs. You were pretty sure you were supposed to go between the second and third one… pretty sure. And you’d have to practically punch the needle into him to get it through the skin and muscle… fuck you might actually kill him. But the collapsed lung would kill him too. “You ready?” You asked, glancing at Frank, who nodded, and then down at Sam, who was sitting at your feet, watching you both carefully. Well, it was now or never, and if you didn’t do it quickly, you knew you’d never build up the courage. After a deep breath, you lined up the needle, and with a hard jerk of your arm, stabbed it into Frank’s chest.

Frank gasped and snarled, but there was a sharp hiss of air through the needle and out the open end of the syringe. After a long moment, it seemed that you’d gotten it all, and you withdrew the needle. Frank grunted, but he took a deep experimental breath, wincing slightly.

“Feel better?” You asked, exchanging the needle in your hands for the stethoscope again.

“Yeah,” Frank grunted, sitting up with another hiss of pain. He held still as you listened to both sides of his chest again, and then his back, trying not to think about how muscled he was.

“It sounds better,” you murmured, “Not normal, but I doubt they’re ever normal with all the shit you put your body through.” That got you another grunt of agreement, and Frank moved like he was going to stand up. “Hey. Nuh uh. Where are you going?” You asked, standing between his knees and pushing against his good shoulder.

“Home. I can breathe now, thanks,” he grumbled, looking past you towards the door.

“Not until I check out that gunshot wound,” you said firmly, prying his fingers away from it. Frank muttered something that sounded a lot like “crazy-ass woman,” but you ignored him, peering at his injury. The bleeding had slowed, but the wound was still open, which was a problem.

“Looks like it just grazed you,” you said, peeling at the blood-soaked tatters of his shirt.

“Oh yeah? You ever been ‘just grazed’ by a bullet there sweetheart? Didn’t think so. Now quit touchin it, that hurts,” Frank snapped, but you didn’t move, didn’t flinch at his harsh tone. In fact you were pretty unfazed. He was a lot like that snarling pit bull from last week that came in after being attacked by another dog. You smiled a little at the thought of Frank as a pit bull.

“Take off your shirt,” you ordered, moving back slightly to allow him room to move. Frank sat there glowering at you for a long moment. “Frank I need to clean and bandage that. Take off the shirt or I’ll cut it off.”

“Jesus… Fine…” he muttered, wincing as he shrugged off his jacket. He grabbed the hem of the shirt with his good hand, yanking it up towards his head. But with the gunshot wound and the broken ribs, he had a limited range of motion and quickly got stuck. You reached out with gentle fingers to help him get the fabric over his head and then down his arms. Frank’s dark eyes were locked on you as you leaned in close and began working. He didn’t complain and only hissed once when you applied the antiseptic, and soon you felt your cheeks growing hot. Frank was entirely muscle- chiseled chest, washboard abs and broad shoulders, and he was so close to you, so warm beneath your fingers.

Finally you finished, tying off the bandage and taking a step back. Frank’s right arm caught you, keeping you close, standing there between his legs. You looked up at him to find his gaze smoldering and intense. Without any warning he leaned in and kissed you, his mouth oddly gentle against yours. His right hand splayed across the small of your back, pressing you closer. You were a little afraid to touch him, but his neck seemed unhurt so you put one hand there to ground yourself. Frank grunted as he moved his left hand up to cup the side of your face, his tongue darting out to run along your lower lip. But before you could let him in, he was pulling away, eyes even darker than usual.

“Thanks,” he said simply, making you smile a little.

“You know you don’t have to nearly get yourself killed just to see me,” you said lightly, trying to tease him despite your rapid heartbeat. Slowly you eased yourself forward to rest your hands on his chest, which seemed moderately safe.

“Easier n sayin hello,” Frank mumbled, looking away like he was embarrassed.

“You know… It would be best if you stayed here for a little while. For observation.”

“Oh yeah?” Frank asked, the tiniest bit of hope leaking into his voice as his eyes flicked down to your lips again.

“Definitely,” you said quietly, “wouldn’t want you to bleed out just across the hall.”

“Then I guess I’m stayin.”

[creek-cryptid-deluxe]

I fucked up (I know, what's new ammirite?). So, the last dog incident was Saturday night. Monday night rolls around.

Wait, some background info. This doggo (whom the vet confirmed is a great dane lab mix but turns out is closer to 1.5 yrs old) gets 2 walks a day via my dad @ about 3 miles each. One before he goes to work at 5 am and one in the evening around 6 or 7 pm. It wears her out & a tired dog is a well behaved dog. Anyway, back to Crystal's Fuck Up of the Day...

So, Monday night. My dad is a season ticket holder for our local hockey team and they actually managed to squirm their way into the playoffs this year. Monday night was a game (I dunno which one because, frankly, I don't really care & even if I did, I wouldn't be able to remember) and on game nights he generally goes straight to the game from work. Monday night was no different, but that means only one walk for the horse-dog.

Well, as the night wore on, she got rambunctious & mischievous so my brilliant ass was like, 'let's do an abridged walk because that's better than no walk at all. How bad can it be?' (SPOILER: very Very VERY fucking bad) So we start walking and it's ok. She isn't pulling, she's stopping to smell ALL the things, so we aren't going too too fast. It's cool... until it wasn't. A few blocks away from home, I collapse. Woo. So I chill on the sidewalk in front of the sprawling student housing community for a bit at 10:30 pm in my pjs with my Anubis looking mini horse. After 10 minutes, I haul my ass off the concrete and suddenly it hurts. Everything from the waist down feels like it's been run over by a train & poorly reassembled.

"Home," I say, through the tears streaming down my cheeks, to my confused horse dog. I start dragging myself towards the house, walking very much like the undead or Igor from Young Frankenstein. Bailey doesn't pull at all, doesn't stop to smell the skunk carcasses. She walks slowly, just a bit ahead, then loops back to look at me like she's concerned, sniff my leg, lick my hand, and continue onward.

Today is now Wednesday. Tuesday was spent on my couch sleeping off and on until about 5 pm, freezing my ass off while sweating. And I don't mean it was cold or chilly in the house. It was a balmy 70 degrees Fahrenheit, but my skin was cold to the touch and I was shivering. Today was spent in a similar fashion except that at noon-thirty I had to haul my ass to my monthly pain management appointment 70 miles away.

Now, at nearly midnight, I'm actually feeling better aside from the raging headache/neck jazz brought on by the 'dangerous thunderstorm' that Weather Bug has been warning me about for the last 3 hrs.

Mistakes were made. But, as I tell my beautiful teenager, as long as I learn from aforementioned mistakes, they were worth it. Right? Well, either way that's what I'm telling myself.

Not much else going on round here. Oh! Friday I'm going to look into getting a tablet with a stylus & a case with a keyboard. Originally I wanted it for easier web browsing & email composing (hence the keyboard), but I think I may use the stylus and an app to doodle about my life as a sad marionette. If I do, I will post them.

Also, nearly done with a new cross stitch. It's a ridiculously colored sphinx cat with a caption, but I've not settled on what it will say. I picked out a stitch to do for my grandmother's 80th bday in june and have several options that I'm mulling over for my baby momma's baby shower gift.

OH! I NEARLY FORGOT THE MOST IMPORTANT THING THAT HAPPENED THIS WEEK (so far). My daughter resides across town with my cousin (better school, plus watching her independent, strong mom disintegrate was a bit much for both of us) so I see her when she's free on weekends. Well. Monday she snapped me to say that she & her friend (who is a senior & lives near her) are going to a store down the street from me & want to know if I want to go for dinner. HELLS YES! So these young ladies kidnapped me, took me to dinner & ice cream. Between the foods, we went to the bar where my baby momma works to say hi & since it was empty, we played pool. The teen I didn't shoot out of my lady hole had never played before, so they played against each other but each got 2 'mom tag in shots' for the game. It was fun to watch & help. They've decided we're doing it again sometime soon.

I really love when they just drop in like that. It's a lot of fun, plus it's not nearly as draining as when the kids stay the night (or nights) with me. Less time putting on the 'I'm ok i promise' mask. Plus I just really enjoy their company. They're good kids.

[madisonemeryofficial]

Friday, May 26 - Saturday, May 27, 2017

My Dearest Madison,

I love how you let us sleep in by spending time in bed with us in the morning. We got up about 8:45 and got you ready for school. I spent the time taking my traffic school online class and relaxing a bit. I did take a little nap too before picking you up. :)

It turned out to be quite a day for us. We had played outside and you were watching youtube videos on the computer while I was warming up some carrots for us to eat. I heard this horrible noise and went to go see what was happening upstairs with the dogs. I heard barking and when I got up there Blue had Strobey’s ear. I was so scared because a few years ago, Strobey got in a fight with a great Dane who was living with us and ripped his ear in half. I did not want that to happen again. I was pulling on Blue’s collar, trying to get her off, but she wouldn’t let go. I was screaming and crying, smacking her on the head, couldn’t free poor Strobey. I made the mistake of trying to get her teeth off and I got bit on my thumb. It started bleeding but I was still trying to get Strobey free. When he was finally free, he went into the bedroom. I made another mistake of letting Blue go and she went after him again and latched onto his ear. I finally got her off and told Strobey to go downstairs as I put Blue in her crate. 

I came into the kitchen and my thumb was dripping blood, you told me Strobey had a boo boo. I was crying and in pain. I kept trying to call Daddy but he wasn’t answering. I called Grams and she was probably freaking out as I was like screaming and crying, asking her to come over. I called Gammi too and she was going to come over to see if Strobey needed to go to the vet. Daddy finally called and came home not too much longer after Grams. So we decided to have her stay at the house with you while Daddy took me to the ER. 

They gave me a Tetanus shot and three numbing shots in my thumb so they could clean it and then give me stitches. They said they normally don’t do stitches for dog bites because there’s a high risk for infection, but since it was so deep they had to do some. Half of the top of my thumb was out! I got five stitches along the bottom and side, but none at the top where my nail is. They wanted to have some space for drainage. I didn’t feel any of that, but once the numbing agent was wearing off, it really hurt. I could feel my pulse going all throughout my thumb! 

Daddy and I got something to eat and then had to find a 24 hour pharmacy so I could fill my prescription. They said I had to start tonight. It was really late when we got home and you were in bed already. I was able to get ahold of Auntie Stephanie and we are going to be giving Blue back to Neil. Strobey will be ok. He’s in pain and has a little hole in his ear. 

To think all this started over the new dog bowl I got them yesterday. I can’t understand it. They have been so good at sharing everything and water. I tried to do something nice and this is what happens!!

Saturday - We were pretty lazy today. My thumb is constantly hurting. :( You wanted to see my boo boo and wrapped your hand in gauze like Mommy.

You refused to take a nap all day and finally fell asleep on the couch with me about 7pm and slept til 10:45pm. I’m surprised you went to bed after that and slept all night! You look so tall sleeping on the couch. My little girl is growing fast!

I love you!

Mommy