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Frank never wanted the two sides of his life to meet.
One side is Red, and Red’s friends, and the colorful menagerie of villains the asshole seems to attract. The other side is home, and Curtis, and the Liebermans, and sure, okay, sue him, Madani’s in there too.
He’s been trying his damndest to stop it from happening.
It’s the fucking ninjas that do it.
It seems like ever since he and Red teamed up, all Frank’s been doing is fighting ninjas with Red’s little group of vigilantes.
(Jones is okay, if sloppy, and works best when bribed with whiskey. Rand is basically a child, but put him with Cage, and he’s suddenly hyper-competent in an excitable way. Deadpool, conversely, is a whole other ballpark of mind-fuck, especially when he’s teamed up with Spider-Man.)
Warehouse after warehouse, it’s a never-ending stream of undead assholes who really want to stab them. Frank’s lucky, in a way - his only personal stake in this is Red himself, and he’s got guns. He can perch himself a few meters away and take out anyone that gets too close to either of them.
Red’s still a moron, of course. He fights with the same vigor, the same showy acrobatic bullshit, the same rage as he always has. It’s equal parts invigorating and terrifying to watch: Frank’s not one to get scared by much, but seeing a small man take on that many ninjas is going to give him ulcers one of these days. He’s sure of it.
Nelson says the same thing, and he’s known Red for a helluva lot longer than Frank has.
It’s almost dawn when it finally happens, after an exhausting two hours of shooting, running out of bullets, saving Spider-Man’s ass from four very angry ninjas, and trying not to throttle Red for being a reckless bastard.
Speaking of which:
“Fuck!” Red shouts. Frank pauses in looking for stragglers - that sounded far too pained to laugh off. He then watches as Red executes a perfect judo flip, knocks the guy into a coma, and falls into a Dumpster.
The only issue with this is that Red doesn’t get up.
“Double-D, you good?” Spider-Man calls after a moment, voice high and reedy. He’s webbing up a particularly angsty ninja with surprising efficiency.
“Red?” Frank calls. No reply.
“Red?” Frank tries again, with a little warning in his voice.
“Y-yeah?” Red gasps. “Fucking shit cocksucking ninja Hand bastards.”
“There’s a child.” Frank reminds him, and Red makes a mildly concerning noise.
“Guys, we’ve talked about this.” Spidey sighs, and starts counting on his fingers. “I’m in high school. I’m a mutant. I hang out with Jessica Jones on the reg. I hang out with Deadpool on the reg. I fought the Vulture. I fought Wilson Fisk . Karen Page threatened me into going ghost hunting with her.”
Red hums in agreement from inside his Dumpster. The ranking was appropriate.
“I can handle some bad vibes.”
“You're still a kid,” Frank says as cheerfully as he can.
Spidey audibly pouts.
“Sure you can,” Frank pats him on the shoulder consolingly. “Red, you wanna get outta that Dumpster?”
“No. Also, I can’t, so fuck you.”
“What do you mean, you can’t?” Frank says, and looks into the Dumpster.
Spidey also looks into the Dumpster.
“Holy shit,” Spidey whispers. He pulls off his mask in distress.
“Holy shit,” Frank confirms.
That’s a lot of blood. That’s a lot of blood. Spidey shoves his mask into Frank’s hands and effortlessly flips into the Dumpster. It barely rocks.
“Kid, what?”
“I’ve got webs,” he says, and presses a wad of webbing to what seems to be the source of the bleeding. “Mr Castle, this looks really bad.”
“Yeah. You got the Night Nurse’s number?”
“Miss Claire’s out of town. She’s helping Danny and his friends, they’re in Cambodia.”
“Fuck. No nurse, no Fist,” Frank’s mind isn’t usually this blank. “Sam Wilson’s with Curtis in fucking Canada.”
“What about Mr Stark?” Spidey offers, and Red scoffs. Spidey blinks owlishly at him. “Don’t be an asshole, Double-D.”
“Avengers are all upstate," Frank reminds him, and Spidey pulls a face.
"Deadpool’s still growing back his arms and he’s not happy about it,” Red announces. “It’s affecting my vibes.”
“My aunt’s out of town, too." Spidey's growing increasingly anxious.
"Fuck," Red says, because he's eloquent.
"Don’t you have a friend, Mr Castle? The, uh, Micro guy?”
Sometimes Frank forgets that the kid's basically a genius.
“Frank has friends?” Red mutters nastily. Frank squints at him.
“You want to bleed out in a Dumpster, Red? Don't answer that. Kid, here’s my phone. Call ‘micropenis’ for me, willya?”
The ride to the Lieberman’s house is only somewhat terrifying. Spidey’s a good kid, and can follow instructions to a T, but there’s only so much his webbing can do, and when they get there, Red’s a sickly kind of pale: pallid from blood loss, only awake from sheer stubbornness.
“Kid, you changed?” Frank calls. Spidey makes an assenting noise, and Red opens his eyes again. Frank’s not sure why he closed them, but it made the kid feel better, so he doesn’t question it. Frank takes the ski mask off the rearview mirror.
The sweater and jacket are far too large for him, but it’s better than the suit, and the kid looks moderately thrilled at being reduced to a shapeless blob of khaki. Red tilts his head, and Spidey squints at him.
“Sometimes I forget you’re tiny,” Red muses, and Spidey squints harder.
Frank snorts, and dials Micro’s number. Three rings, hang up, like they agreed.
David Lieberman comes running out of the house, and immediately calls for Sarah to help. They manage to get everybody out of the van without too much trouble, but it becomes apparent that Red can’t walk. He tries, because he’s the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen, thank you very much, but Spidey’s having none of it.
Ignoring the strange look that Sarah gives him, the kid lifts Red effortlessly.
Bridal style.
Red’s offended squawk is enough to draw a very confused Leo into the proceedings. The kid smiles cheerfully at them all, even with Red's grumbling, and follows Sarah into the house. Red gets settled on the couch. They’ve put a thick tarpaulin on it, to cover the expensive suede. Red’s bleeding is sluggish.
At some point in getting the suit off Red passes out, and Frank’s glad. He’s been awake for shit like this - Claire Temple is a mixed bag of hyper-competency and sadism - and it’s not a fun time no matter what Deadpool says. They get him set down properly, and Frank and Sarah begin the task of wiping as much blood off him as they can.
Then the kid clears his throat and announces to the room:
“I’m gonna call Foggy.”
Unfortunately for them all, Red wakes up at that exact moment. “No!”
“Double-D, c’mon. He’s gotta know.”
“No. Pete, please. Foggy said I’m not allowed in Dumpsters anymore, not after Clint and the Italians, Pete, c’mon…”
“Tough,” the kid says, and dials.
“Hello?” Nelson says, sounding confused and slightly drunk.
“Hey, Foggy! It’s Peter. You’re on speakerphone.”
“Hey, Pete. You get a new burner? What’s up?”
“I have news!”
Appalled silence. “What’s Matt done now?”
Sarah, because she has wonderful timing, chooses this moment to pour shitty vodka over the wound to clean it.
Red swears a blue streak that makes even Frank want to blush.
Nelson says nothing for a long moment.
“Red’s been stabbed,” the kid says helpfully.
Nelson still doesn’t reply, but the silence is slightly more ominous.
“I’m using Mr Castle’s new phone, by the way,” the kid continues, far too cheerful, and isn’t that just great. “We’re in a safe place, though, and we’ve got Red some help. He’s gonna be okay. Right, Mrs Lieberman?”
Sarah agrees, and threads her needle. Frank is, admittedly, slightly terrified of her. How she’s basically become a nurse since the last time they spoke is beyond him.
“I see.” Nelson says, slightly muffled, and he hears Karen’s snickering in the background.
“You okay, Foggy?”
Nelson makes a moderately distressed noise, and Karen laughs harder.
“Fogs, s’gonna be fine,” Red slurs, because he’s a fucking moron. Karen actually cackles.
“Thank you for calling me, Peter,” Nelson says kindly. “Will you put my idiot on the phone?”
Red visibly panics, but the kids ignores him. He takes Nelson off speakerphone and jams the phone between Red’s ear and the couch.
“Foggy?” Red’s never sounded so timid before.
The answer is loud, indecipherable, and incredibly angry.
“No, Fogs, I… it was an accident, c’mon… no, of course not… why the fuck would I do it on purpose?”
The answer to that is so steely that even the Devil cowers and lets out a pitiful whine.
The kid is watching with unbridled glee. Frank suddenly understands why he and Deadpool get on so well.
“I’m sorry, Foggy,” Red says, and it actually sounds contrite for once.
Nelson’s reply is something about ulcers that makes Sarah laugh. Karen’s voice joins the conversation, and Red whines again. There’s an expectant silence.
“I’m sorry, Karen. I’ll try…” Red’s breath hitches as Sarah finishes a stitch. “I’ll try not to get stabbed so much.”
Karen sounds approving, but Nelson says something that sounds like ‘try not to get stabbed at all, asshole, what would Sister Maggie say?’, and Frank rolls his eyes.
Oh, the joys.
While Red’s whining about stitches, David takes the phone and gives Nelson their address. Sarah finishes up and moves to the kitchen.
Eventually, they hang up, and the kid’s practically bouncing on the balls of his feet.
Red lets out a sigh of relief. He clearly hasn’t made the connection that Nelson and Karen know where they are. They’re coming for him. They’re going to kill Red with their bare hands and laugh while they do it. The kid seems unreasonably excited by this, and Frank gets the impression that he wants it to be a surprise.
There’s a long beat of silence, where the only sound is Sarah and Leo doing something in the kitchen. Red recovers slightly, and immediately starts complaining about being guilt-tripped by his best friends.
The kid, in response, guilt-trips him into taking some painkillers.
Red takes the pills, immediately complains some more, and then falls asleep halfway through a rant about how Wade doesn’t get treated like this, Peter, why me? Why? Do I look like I need coddling to you?
The kid lets out a long breath. “Thank fuck for that.”
Frank laughs. Wipes a hand across his face.
Sarah comes back into the room and grins. “David’s decided to make lasagna. Frank, help him, will you?”
“Yes ma’am,” he says.
This is his worst fucking nightmare.
Dinner is a fraught affair. Red insists on eating, because he’s high as fuck on the painkillers and apparently he fucking loves Frank’s lasagna. The kid has to carry him to sit at the table.
(Bridal style again, because it makes Red super grumpy, and pissing off vigilantes seems to be the kid’s new hobby.)
Red gets set down far more gently than necessary, pouting the whole time. Sarah and David are visibly trying not to laugh. The kid sits down too, right next to David, and isn’t that a car crash waiting to happen.
“Thank you, Mrs Lieberman,” Red says when he’s served. He’s got no helmet or glasses, his hair is a mess, and he’s wearing Frank’s hoodie, but he still somehow manages charming.
“Enough of that, Matt. You did very well earlier, and now you need to keep your strength up,” Sarah fusses, and Red pretends that he isn’t preening. “You should be proud.”
Frank lets out an offended scoff. “So Red gets stabbed and you’re proud of him, but I’ve fixed half the shit in your house and I don’t even get a hello?”
“Get fucked, Frank,” Red mumbles, and takes a bite of lasagna. He hums in approval.
There’s an awkward pause. David gets this look in his eye, and his gaze darts between Frank and Red like he’s scanning for something.
David ignores Frank’s glare, and looks at Red. “How did you two meet?”
Red considers this. “I tried to drop kick him off a building.”
The kid chokes on his lasagna.
“It was Frank’s fault,” Red continues, smiling beatifically. David makes a confused noise.
“Frank’s… fault?” Sarah says lightly. Oh no.
“Okay, it was my fault. But Frank still bit me.”
“Frank, we’ve talked about this,” David scolds him from around a mouthful of garlic bread.
Frank sighs, and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Fuck you. And I bit you much later than that, Red, that was when you tried to strangle me after Fisk came back the second time.”
Red grins, because he’s an asshole. “Gave me a scar. S’right near my dick.”
David blinks at them for a second. “You tried to strangle him with… your legs?”
“Duh,” Red says, and makes no further comment.
“Why were you trying to strangle Frank?” Sarah says, still in that light tone of voice.
“Have you met him?” Red says. Frank’s not even sorry when the lettuce gets him in the eye.
Nelson and Karen come to pick him up surprisingly quickly after that.
The kid’s put Red on the couch again, to much complaint, and smothered him in blankets.
Sarah opens the door, and greets Nelson and Karen warmly.
David is trying to explain to Red that they don’t have audio description on the TV, but Netflix has it, so if you’ll just let me get my laptop, please don’t rip the blankets, just calm down, man, take a breath...
“Seriously, Mrs Lieberman, thank you so much,” Nelson says, shaking her hand. Red’s trying to extract himself from the kid’s blanket pile, and hasn’t registered anything beyond it and David’s increasingly frantic pleas.
The kid goes to greet them, too, and lets Nelson fuss over him. Karen ruffles the kid’s hair and calls him a ‘tiny wee devil’.
“Call me Sarah, honestly, everyone with this ‘Mrs Lieberman’ bullshit…” Sarah says, and shakes Karen's hand. “He’s just through here. He’s… loopy.”
“Thank you. I’m about to start a scene, fair warning,” Nelson declares.
“Be my guest,” Sarah replies.
Karen waves at Frank. Frank, like a chump, waves back.
Red’s still struggling when Nelson clears his throat.
He freezes, eyes wide, blankets wrapped around him like he's baby Yoda or someshit.
“Matthew,” Nelson begins, and Karen’s already snickering.
“S’not my fault!” Red whines immediately. He's staring pitifully at somewhere near Nelson’s left shoulder.
“We’ve been over this, Matt. So many times.”
“I only got stabbed a little, Foggy, I’m okay!”
“You only got stabbed a little, Matt? That’s really what you’re going with?”
Frank realises that the kid’s actually filming the whole thing, giggling softly to himself.
Red pouts. Sarah and David watch with barely concealed fascination. The kid’s looking far too excited.
“...And what happens then? They could break your skull wide open, Matthew- ,” Nelson hisses.
“Oh my God, that only happened once, and I was concussed, not dead-”
“It happened three times, are you kidding me-”
Karen’s still snickering when she sidles up to Frank.
“Ten bucks Foggy starts crying,” she murmurs, only slurring slightly. Frank stares at her. Then he stares at Nelson and Red’s battle of wills. They both know Red can hear them, and, well. If he talks loudly enough that everyone just so happens to hear him, then surely that's just his ears still ringing from the fight, right?
Right?
“Nah. My money’s on Red. Shoulda seen him in the Dumpster.”
Red honest-to-God growls at them.
“You were in a Dumpster?” Nelson asks pointedly. The kid vibrates with anticipation.
Red pauses.
Thinks.
Panics.
“What’s a Dumpster?”
David leaves the room, and a moment later, choking laughter can be heard coming from the kitchen.
Nelson sighs in defeat.
“You’re a disaster.”
“Careful, you’ll start sounding like Sister Maggie.”
Nelson glares at him. “Don’t bring your mom into this, Matt, you’re still in trouble.”
David comes back into the room, and slips the kid the full bottle of Red’s painkillers and a slip of paper.
It seems to spur Nelson into action.
“Right, okay. Let’s get him out of your hair… Peter, you’re the most adult person here, the Liebermans excluded, of course. Can you help me get him into the car?”
“Sure thing, Foggy,” the kid replies, like he hasn’t singlehandedly been trying to ruin Red’s life all night.
He carries Red bridal style again, because he's a little shit, but Red allows it this time. He sulks, arms crossed over his chest, and looks very deliberately away from Nelson. David bags up both Red's suit and the tarp, and hands them both to Frank in a large refuse sack. The suit'll be fine. The tarp, not so much.
Nelson turns to the Liebermans once they’ve gotten Red into Karen’s beat up old beamer.
“I’m an attorney in Hell’s Kitchen. If you need anything, anything at all, here’s my number.”
“Thank you. Just make sure you’re all safe, alright?” Sarah takes the card, and they shake hands again. Behind them, the kid bullies Red into taking another round of painkillers, and sure enough, Red passes the fuck out.
“I’ll do my best, Sarah. Thank you,” Nelson goes to get in the car, but sees Red's prone form and thinks better. “Actually, one last thing.”
Sarah raises an eyebrow. Nelson grins brilliantly.
“What’s in those painkillers, and where can I get some more?”
Frank realises he’s made a terrible mistake.