There won't be a universe out there where Matt won't be fighting Frank. They'll always be butting heads. Right now he's busy dying and insisting he doesn't need help, but tomorrow there'll no doubt be something else that Matt will point an accusatory finger at Frank about. They probably don't know how else to interact with each other.

Frank gets a moment's reprieve while Matt reorients himself lying down, his hands feeling out the base he's lying on as his brows furrow in confusion. His head turns as the whirring gets a little louder, but there's no time to panic when he starts feeling like someone or something's sedated him.

He reaches out towards Frank's wrist but his fingertips graze over the soldier's skin and his hand falls limply to the side. A moment of peace seems to wash over him as the tension eases off his shoulders. Somewhere on the way Matt's dropped his communicator, or maybe it's still in the room, but for now nothing's disturbing him as his breathing and heartrate evens out into a slow, steady rhythm.