Frank squeezes his eyes shut in the constant tug-of-war he's got going inside his own body, feeling like the sheets should be soaked through with his blood, but it's all inside his head. Isn't it? What isn't is Karen's watery tone and before he can stop himself his hand is darting out, closing around her arm and holding desperately onto her through it all. Even when it feels like his hands being sawed off, he doesn't let go.

"I'm holding you to that," it's gruff, closer to his usual tone, but even deeper and darker to match the depth of his gaze as his eyes open to take her in all over again. She's his rock, if she couldn't see that after this week especially, then he doesn't know how better to demonstrate.