Frank holds her eyes while his hands go to the waistband of his shorts, these too? It's unbelievably awkward after what just happened, but he can't worry about being naked when he's in the worst pain of his life - this from a guy who's technically died twice.

"My... childhood?" he repeats, a little incredulous when her slim fingers carefully navigate around his. They may as well be daggers, but he's trying not to squirm away. He'll feel better once they're off, but this is really not how he pictured his morning going. "I - I was a real shithead, you know? A tough guy. I never appreciated my parents or anyone around me." He's more or less expecting her to say nothing's changed.