( OPEN & CLOSED ) I tried and it's never enough.

[oorah]

» WHO? FRANK CASTLE & others.
» WHEN? JULY 8-11, JULY 12, JULY 13-31
» WHERE? Various! His room (6.19), Karen's room (3.19), Alex's room (6.25), Mess Hall, Observation Deck, Gym, Chapel, etc.
» WHAT? After the music stops, Frank is still struggling. And later on, he gets back to normal life on the Station. Feel free to tag in brackets I'll match!
» WARNINGS? dealing with disabilities; depression/suicidal ideations; minor injuries/physical & psychological distress, nudity/sexual themes, violence.

( 7/10 · FOR ALEX ) when you're free you can come for me

It's the third day in a row now of Frank coming to Alex's room at exactly 4 PM. Kamala contacted him when Frank's touch first left and asked if he'd be willing to check him for injuries every day, something Frank was too embarrassed to ask for himself even if he knew he needed it. He's still endeared by the way she said (typed) that he needed to find a guy friend to help him with this, but honestly, there was no one else that sprang to mind as quickly. No matter what mistakes they had made in their past lives and here on this station, he trusts Alex and he likes to think he's been trustworthy to the other man as well.

He raps the Morse code for S-A-F-E into the doorframe as had become habitual by now, but he hits a little too hard, still staring at the red mark across his knuckles as Alex comes to the door. His eyes are wide with fear and apology, but that's normal now. His new normal also has him evading any friendly touch to the arm or shoulder, given or received, sidestepping Alex entirely because he's too afraid of hurting the other man with even the simplest of physical greetings, from a handshake to a hug. He doesn't say anything aloud, but Max is sniffing at Alex's shoes cheerfully, always looking forward to visits with the kind man who sometimes fed him when Frank wasn't looking.

Though the first nights had been hard, today, Frank unzips his jumpsuit numbly (everything is numb now) and strips down to his briefs so that Alex can look him over. A fresh box of kitty bandaids is tossed to the bed in case he's bleeding anywhere and doesn't know it. As it turns out, there's a shallow cut on his back, nestled between old and new scars alike. He must have scraped himself in the shower this afternoon because there's a bloodstain inside his undershirt he didn't notice until now. The rest is all scratches and bruises, he had never realized how much you rely on being able to feel yourself just for walking around and doing simple tasks. He hangs his head and waits for Alex to get through his exam and get his attention.

( 7/11 · FOR ELEKTRA ) just say my name from day to day

Frank makes his way into the gym for his daily ritual, today he'd left Max with Karen intending to go harder than usual. He's finally feeling like he knows his limits (somewhat) with the clever use of timers and relying on the kindness of whoever else was in the space that day. It's strange, walking into a crowded place without all of your senses. Though he supposes, if this is his life now then these are his senses in full and that's truly terrifying. He pushes it aside and makes his way to a mat as he sets the first of several timers before starting out with sideways crunches.

There's a whistling sound whizzing past his left ear as he turns right and he frowns, wondering if he imagined it. But then he goes left and hears it on the right and his heart clutches. It's just like when he lost his hearing in measures that night except in reverse. There's the muffled noise of mag-boots and bare feet, people breathing all around him. Everything is in hyper-focus, but one sound forcibly pries his mind away from its task, an accented voice he instantly recognizes despite the way it's muffled now.

"Francis!" It's a booming call like he did something wrong, and when he looks up at her, he's well and truly cowed. Though he can't feel it, he can hear his heart pounding in his chest. This is somehow scarier than losing everything was. Elektra had been the one person he'd most been avoiding, not wanting to appear weak in front of her of all people. It doesn't take him but a second to steel himself and pop up onto his feet facing her.

"Present," he calls, swallowing past the lump lodged in his throat as he clenches his fists at his side and probably cuts into his palms with blunt nails. His voice sounds hoarse and softer than usual, his eyes wild as they meet hers. The alarm coming from his watch doesn't register at first, though he hears it. He thinks it's a residual ring like he sometimes gets, but he realizes his mistake and clicks it off with a frown.

( 7/11 & 7/12 · FOR KAREN ) i always jumped to hide when i needed your love

After his hearing returned, and Elektra and himself had had a sparring match turned vicious, Karen had been the first person he'd sought out even though he knew she'd be angry. Plus, she had his dog. So here he is at her door, rapping O-P-E-N-U-P into the frame in Morse code, frowning at the smear of his blood it leaves behind. He'd been teaching it to her before he'd lost his senses, and now it's like a strange holdover from a former life. Less than two weeks ago and already a different existence entirely than he's living. This has become routine, him coming to her room for a shower after the gym so she can set the temperature for him and make sure he didn't damage himself. But tonight he is damaged, breast heaving as he prepares for a shrill voice he hasn't heard properly since June. It's a little sick that he's looking forward to the argument, he knows.

He holds the bleeding hand with his other as she opens the door, watching as she assesses him. His broken lip, a scratch high on his cheek, a trickle of dried blood from one nostril. Both his eyes are black again and there are red-turning-purple bruises blooming from under his tank top and down his arms, the top of his jumpsuit hanging from his waist. He's ready for his lecture, looking so forward to hearing it even if he still can't feel a thing.

"Hi, Karen." It's bright, though his voice is dim and deep after that, smiling as Max barrels past her to sniff excitedly at his feet. He hasn't spoken to her aloud in days and soon his smile turns a little goofy, knowing it will only make her angrier but unable to tamp down on it in time.

( 7/8-7/11 · OPEN ) when i was young and stupid

Kamala had set him on a path towards coping with his new disabilities, setting his schedule and organizing helpers for him so that he could abide by life on the station without hearing or feeling anything. It isn't the life he had a week ago, it's hardly even a life at all, but he still has people who count on him against all odds. And Max, of course. He has to stay strong for them if not his own wellbeing. He has to do the same things at the same time every day, or he might hurt himself. In a lot of ways, it's like basic training. It's comforting for the routine but makes him nervous because he can't deviate from it.

At 8-00 he wakes up, and Karen has to be there to set the shower whichever room he happens to be in so he doesn't burn himself or give himself hypothermia. There was a fall one day so she's never far outside, something that's constantly on his mind now as he gets more and more cautious about his condition - not wanting to worry or scare her; or humiliate himself in the process.

Half 8 has him at the Mess Hall, sometimes with Max in his little mag-boots with him and sometimes without, sitting far away from the replicators and eating a protein bar and drinking coffee. It's a challenge to feed himself sometimes, but it's one thing he doesn't want to accept help for, so sometimes he bites his lip so hard it bleeds. Sometimes he spills coffee down the front of his jumpsuit. He's come to accept the consequences of doing things on his own.

9-00 sees him in the Gym to do his workout routine. He has to have at least one spotter even as he looks in the mirror to make sure he's holding the weights right, that his form is right. It's like watching someone else, he's detached from the experience entirely until his lungs start to burn from the effort and sweat pours down his face. That's when he knows it's time to strap himself and Max into the treadmills for dreaded cardio except actually, he doesn't mind as much as he used to. He can't feel his cheeks bounce or his legs cramp and it's no longer the chore it once was, running until the machine tells him to stop because he has to have set on a timer otherwise he'd just keep going and going.

11-00 is another shower with Karen's help and then he gets dressed and prepares to actually socialize, taking to the halls with the dog as they begin to relearn how to communicate with one another and also third parties. Max does better than Frank because he still has all his faculties about him, learning hand signals and to step in front of Frank when he needs his attention on something. It's slow-going, but it's good work, and they end up in the Observation Deck by 14-00 or so. They take a rest and count the stars and they practice the mag-locks on Max's boots, both on the deck and in the elevators.

It's back to the Mess for 15-00 where he usually meets Kamala or Karen for lunch, but he's alone sometimes too. He tries for something more ambitious every day and calls it a victory when he doesn't stab himself with his fork. After his meal, he doesn't leave, instead pulling knitting needles and a scarf he's started with maroon and gold stripes, trying to teach himself how again without feeling the motion. It's hard and often fruitless, but doing the task in public keeps him from giving into frustration or just giving up entirely.

16-00 is when he sees Alex so the man can check him over for all the various cuts, scrapes, burns, bruises, etc. he may have acquired throughout the day without noticing. He often leaves with a Hello Kitty bandaid stuck to his face or somewhere on his hands. And from there it's down the hall to Kamala's room for texting lessons. He had never been a great texter but now that it's his only mode of communication he has to try, even though it's hard not being able to feel the touchpad on his smartwatch.

At 17-00 Max and Frank travel to the Chapel which isn't a place one may have encountered them since he'd discovered the place with Karen. He sits in the center of the circular area and watches the lights in the atrium though there are no plants inside (yet.) He had never been a religious man, even a lifetime ago when he'd had an Italian Catholic wedding that could have put Tony Soprano to shame, the lump of a twenty-year-old crucifix visible through his tuxedo tailor-made for him. Praying had always felt like an empty practice, but today he has something to beg for: death. Mercy. If God were indeed merciful he would have let Frank Castle die a million times over by now, and yet now moreso than ever, he wants it. Not enough to float himself out of the airlock; not enough to claim responsibility for the people who will miss him - who somehow need him even now. But it's enough to sit in church and weep, sniffling quietly with tears rushing down his face he doesn't know are there until he struggles to breathe through mucus and saline.

From there it's to the Mess Hall one last time for a protein bar, but this one he takes back to his room, just as a timer goes off telling him to drink water. He doesn't really do social calls anymore, almost always in his room (6.19) or in Karen's (3.19) and if you knock on his door after 18-00 he won't be able to hear you but Max will, and the helpful pit will come get him to let you in. Max was supposed to be his rescue project and here he is saving Frank all over again.

( 7/13-7-31 · OPEN ) my love left to be a rock'n'roll star

Though his senses have returned, Frank is having a hard time unwinding the schedule set about for him during that time. He's quieter than he's been up until now, used to the eerie nonfeeling of his lips moving so when he actually does speak aloud he startles himself. Everything is another layer of relearning now, so used to being bereft that when his body responds the way it's supposed to it confuses him. He's trying desperately to remember what passed for normalcy before the music and all of this happened to him, but it's easier said than done; and he doesn't do much speaking in the early days of his hearing and sense of touch returning.

He can be found in the Mess Hall knitting or eating at all the same times, but he's back to his hypervigilance, knowing the moment someone approaches and who it is. Where before he went out of his way to be calm and friendly, however, now every noise sets his teeth on edge. If you catch him on a particularly bad day, sitting across from him might earn an apologetic look as he gets up and leaves abruptly with his dog.

The Observation Deck and the elevators are still where he's training Max, crumbled bits of protein bar innards in his pockets as they practice the locks over and over and over again. The pitbull is the only creature Frank doesn't think about talking to or touching, immensely grateful that he can again. When he's with Max is the only time he really smiles or speaks much above a whisper. Due to their diligence, Max is making serious progress with the boots and doesn't seem bothered by them anymore. Max seems happy to have his dad back too, often rubbing against his legs affectionately when he was once a much more stoic animal.

When he goes to the Gym to do his daily workout, he'll beg a fight off anyone he finds in there, just wanting to feel something -- even if it's only pain. Or maybe pain is what he wants most, honestly. Cardio is forgone for brutal beatdown sessions with anyone who will have him. And from then on, Frank is rarely if ever seen without bruises marring his face. Not like it's so different from before, though those fights had a more friendly tinge. Now he's really fighting to survive and not just to work out.

He still returns to the Chapel, though not as religiously. Twice a week, at most. There are no tears or prayers as he stands along the periphery and watches as others make their tribute. Frank can't help but wonder how many of them have a deathwish, the same as he does. Maybe he wants it even more than he did yesterday, or last week. Or when his family was killed. At least then he had a vendetta, a raison d'être. Now all he has is survival and he knows that has to be enough. Frank will only pop his head in for five minutes at a time, but it's enough to remind himself that he doesn't belong in here. He feels like an imposter even stopping by.

He'll be more reclusive, but it won't stop him from sending out a message on the Network as an open call for anyone who needs a haircut. The task seems to calm him, focusing his mind and hands both as he sets to work on the person in his chair. Max has taken to sitting or laying by him in the floor while he works, appraising each haircut and giving a chirping little bark of approval when the person gets up to leave.

Overall, Frank will be less likely to engage people in conversation and often tries typing on his device before remembering he can speak aloud. If someone touches him in any gentle way, they're likely to be shrugged off, his frame immediately seizing up in discomfort.

Comments

[theycalledmeacurse]

[ Good. Honesty is best between them, as much as they can stomach. Frank was one of the first people she told about the war, about what really happened on her world, and that practice has held between them. It's important to her that there's at least one person here she can be that way with, and she's glad that it's him. Frank, who's strong and fragile all at the same time, even if he refuses to let anyone see it. ]

I know the feeling. [ It's a soft statement as she reaches down to give Max those pets he wants, his fur soothing against the bare skin of her hand. A few seconds pass and then she adds: ] Will you two come sit me with a while? I could use someone to talk to.

[ She's pretty sure he could too. ]

[oorah]

[ he's actually pretty powerless to keep people from seeing his fragility, especially here. with rogue it seems moot anyway so he just waits for she and max to get through their reunion before picking up his head in a meek nod. ]

Back in there? [ he posits, gesturing inside the chapel. the place makes him feel weird, but it's empty this time of night at least. ]

[theycalledmeacurse]

[ A reunion with her four-legged friend is just what she needed today, to be honest. Just being around Max buoys her mood, the dog so innocent and loyal that she can't help but be affected by his presence.

She gives a little shrug at the question, really not caring much where they go. ] In there works, or we could head down to my room; no one would bother us there.

[oorah]

[ it probably shows on his face instantly which he'd prefer and he turns away from the doorway back towards the elevators instead. he'd found this room, he wants to feel an attachment to it. but he just... can't. ]

Still in 4-oh-3? [ max turns on his heels too to follow frank, only shaking his paws a bit after each time a mag-boot hits the grating of the floor. ]

[theycalledmeacurse]

Yep, haven't had any offers of a better situation, so I'm still holed up in there on my own.

[ If Frank reads between the lines, he'll be able to tell that she's not exactly thrilled with the arrangement. She doesn't like having the room to herself, even if it's ultimately safer for others to not be exposed to her mutation and opportunities for accidents. Being alone so much is hard to bear, and each day seems to get a little harder in that regard. ]

[oorah]

[ he thinks of karen, living with her for the last week had brought certain things into focus he really didn' t want to analyze. he looks down at his feet as they walk. ]

I'm not doing anything. I could stay a while tonight?

[theycalledmeacurse]

[ She flashes him a grateful smile as they reach the elevator, punching the button to call it to their level. It hadn't been her intention to get that reaction from him, but she's sure glad for the offer. ]

I'd like that a lot. Thank you, sugar.

[oorah]

[ frank just nods. it's not entirely altruistic when it's an escape for him, too, but if it helps them both it can't be all bad... right? he steps into the car with max and engages his boots, then presses the button naomi had rigged on his device to engage max's. when the elevator makes its brief trip into 0G as it descends, everyone's feet stay on the floor. max pants happily instead of looking distressed at floating for several seconds and scrabbling for the floor. they're making real progress here finally. ]

Sorry I haven't been around too much. [ for her. he thought she had erik, and maybe that hank guy? he has to keep remembering that just because people are from the same world doesn't mean they're friends. he's not friends with captain fucking america. frank just isn't used to this many people actually needing him - wanting him around. ]

[theycalledmeacurse]

[ It's really good to see that Max finally got his own pair of boots. She imagines the adjustment period must not have been the easiest for either of them, but he seems to be doing alright now, and it'll be better for him if they ever have another gravity issue. ]

You don't have to apologize. We all have our own things we're dealing with, and you can't take care of everyone. [ Not just him, but all of them. No matter how hard one person tries, they can't protect everyone from every little thing. She knows, she'd tried. It's possibly that failure to do so that has not trying as far as the others from her own world are concerned - that and other, more personal things. ]

[oorah]

[ he grunts noncommittally. where has he heard that before? frank lapses into silence, used to it from his week in isolation and he really isn't looking for an argument now. so he'll just follow along to her room and wait for her to unlock the door. ]

[theycalledmeacurse]

[ Yeah, she can tell he's really buying what she's saying. She's not in the mood for an argument either, though, so she'll let it go for now. With the door unlocked, she waves them both inside to the clean room, neat and tidy with everything stowed away as Amos had advised. There's no personal touch to the space, but that's because she doesn't have anything personal here. ]

Come on up, big guy. [ She gives the bed a pat and addresses Max before turning her attention to his human. ] You can have a seat too, sugar.

[oorah]

[ it takes max a couple tries to get up even with a running start, his boots weighing him down some even in the lesser gravity, but then he's making his way up to rogue's pillows and stealing them for himself. god, karen's made a monster out of that dog. frank nods, distractedly sitting on the edge of the bed where she directs him. ]

How are you doing? Really.

[theycalledmeacurse]

[ Max is more than welcome to her pillows, he'll certainly be making better use of them than she has lately. Unfastening her own boots, she leaves them on the floor and takes a seat herself, curling her legs up on the bed and facing Frank. ]

And here I was going to have us talk about you first. [ It's a gentle tease, followed by her looking down at her bare hands in her lap. She holds up her right wrist with the metal cuff bracelet. ]

I'm not great, but this helps. The charge only lasts a few hours, but while it does I can touch people safely. First time in seventeen years, I've gotta be grateful for that.

[oorah]

[ he turns towards her, folding his legs and twisting his torso so that his boots are still on the ground. someone takes space really seriously. the tease has him looking down again, he's not good at focusing on himself. it's easier to pay attention to everyone else, but that keeps getting him in trouble. go figure.

frank glances up at her cuff as she points it out and he's reaching for her before he can tell himself he should ask first. he touches the smooth metal and frowns in thought before withdrawing his hand back to his side of the bed. ]

That's... good. [ he sounds cautiously optimistic, a common thread for him. it's strange how some things that show up are helpful, like max, her bracelets. the hoodie he's currently bundled in. but so much of it is pain and torment, too. he wishes it would make up its mind, but he doesn't doubt that's the point. ] I'm happy for you, Rogue.

[theycalledmeacurse]

Thanks, sugar. I guess something decided I could use a break after what I went through. [ There's a bit of humor in the words, a hint of a smile on her lips, because it's not lost on her that she didn't get the bracelet or gloves until after she'd died and lost her sight. Sometimes it almost felt like she'd had to earn it, or like it was a way to placate her after she'd been put through hell.

She doesn't flinch or move away when he touches the bracelet, but the fact that he pulls away has her keeping her hands to herself as she looks back up at him, tilting her head slightly to the side as if trying to find a better angle to study him. Her voice is soft when she speaks, gentle and cautious because she's almost afraid to learn the answer to her question. ] What did you go through, Frank?

[oorah]

[ what didn't he go through? he thinks back to all of the embarrassment and loneliness of the past week and bites into the inside of his lip. an impulse that would have left him bleeding only days ago. now he's already used to being a whole person again like it never even happened. frank holds up his hands and looks down at the palms before squeezing them into fists and looking at her again. ]

First, I lost my hearing. During the music. It was nice at first, it let me sleep and keep my head while everyone else was freaking out. [ his hands turn and hit the tops of his thighs as he lets out a thready breath. ] But then the music stopped and I still couldn't... And that same day I woke up without touch. [ so maybe he can understand her even better now. he never knew how much he relied on it until it was stripped away. ]

[theycalledmeacurse]

[ He... How had she not known? A look of horror creeps across her expression as he speaks, and lord but it takes all of her self-control not to pull him into a hug right then and there. His reaction earlier makes complete sense now, the way he'd pulled away when she'd touched him, and it just about breaks her heart. Experiences like those are ones she wouldn't wish on her worst enemy, and he's certainly anything but. ]

Oh sugar, I'm so sorry you went through that. I didn't know... [ Not that that makes any real difference now. She hadn't been there for him, period, but at least he seems to have recovered both senses, if his phrasing is anything to go by. ] And now it's hard for you to touch people, isn't it? Hard for you to be touched.

[oorah]

[ he braces himself for impact... but she doesn't touch him. it's both welcome and disappointing, if only because she'd always struck him as a hugger. slowly, frank manages to nod, trying to keep the flush at bay even while it steadily creeps up his throat as he explains. ]

When my touch came back... [ it was super the worst timing ever? yeah... yeah. sweats. ] It came back in measures like my hearing did, so I thought. I thought it was over. But then everything hurt. Like I was being ripped apart. Any time I touched... anything. Any part of me.

[theycalledmeacurse]

[ If it had just been his hearing he'd lost, she wouldn't have hesitated for even a second and he'd have gotten the biggest bear hug she could manage. But with touch... She understands as much as anyone can who hadn't experienced that exact situation, and she doesn't want to push him for more than he can handle. ]

You were hypersensitive. [ At least, that's what it sounds like. ] I've experienced something like that myself. It's not-- It's overwhelming, that's for sure.

[oorah]

[ it's the validation he'd needed, though he didn't know it. he catches her eyes and holds them this time, like a promise. ]

It was the worst pain I've ever been put through. And I've withstood all sorts of torture. [ even sensory dep like they'd all been put through, but this was on another level. ]

[theycalledmeacurse]

[ What she'd been through wasn't even half of what he'd had to deal with, her own limitations of touch being nowhere near as extreme, so she honestly can't imagine just how bad it had been for him. ]

I hope you never have to go through anything like that again. [ It's all she can offer him, and it feels so useless in the face of everything else, but there isn't anything else. ] How are you coping with it now? Are you just avoiding every touch you can, or are you trying to ease back into it?

[oorah]

I'm... coping. [ he answers lamely, reaching out for max's flank and gently rubbing a hand over his short fur. it feels like it should be stabbing him and he frowns, looking down at his hand again. ]

By ignoring the problem. [ that's how frank usually copes when he can't kill something instead. ]

[theycalledmeacurse]

[ She watches him carefully, the way he reaches out to Max and how he looks at his hand. Yeah, he's coping alright. ]

You can't keep doing that, sugar. I know it's hard, believe me I know, but you've gotta start working toward getting used to things again. Nothing's ever going to be exactly as it was before, but you've gotta figure out what your new normal's gonna be.

[ Setting her hand down on the bed in the space between them, palm up and waiting, she hopes that at least some of this will get through to him. ]

Baby steps are just fine, you know. You don't have to be okay all at once.

[oorah]

[ he nods, looking down at the bedspread. she's right, but that doesn't mean he wants to hear it. ]

I'm never okay, so at least that part is easy. [ another copout. it's just- ] I spent a whole week, letting my friends do everything for me. They had to take care of me like I was a kid. And now I'm just - fine.

[ well, she knows exactly how that is. he looks up, only now noticing her outstretched hand. he looks at her face and back to the hand, like he isn't sure what she wants, though he can guess. ]

I thought I was gonna have to live my whole life like that. I accepted it. [ that some external force could change him so fundamentally, could break him so easily. it terrifies him. his hand slips into hers finally, and he fights the strange pins-and-needles sensation to lace their fingers. baby steps, right? ]