Broken Glass In The Morning Light

Chapter 32

Frank had no idea where Poison had gone.

After he'd barricaded himself in his room earlier that day, he'd heard them stomp down the stairs right after him and out of the diner. Hours and hours had passed and there was no sign of their return. He'd eventually ventured out into the main room, expecting Kobra or Jet to have an inkling as to where they may be, but the two hadn't even noticed they'd gone. The hours had ticked by and before he knew it, Frank was sitting at the booth, beer in hand, waiting anxiously for them to come back. The rest of the dinner's inhabitants had retreated to their rooms quite some time ago, but Frank had no intention of sleeping until he made sure they were back home safe.

He hadn't told the other two what had happened on the roof, and realistically he wasn't even a hundred percent sure himself. He'd always suspected Poison's slight dependence on their mask, but he'd never thought it would be as extreme as this. He'd been so stupid, he'd seen how their body language had changed when he'd first touched the mask, yet it was his own selfishness that had forced him to ignore it and he'd kept pushing. He had kept pushing, and he had pushed too far. He'd done this, he was the reason Poison hadn't come home. If he'd been able to control himself maybe he wouldn't be in this position. If he'd controlled himself maybe Poison wouldn't have run, maybe he could have had what he'd actually craved for most of all in that moment. He'd seen it in Poison's eyes too, the longing he'd felt for so long reflected in them, and it made him feel sick to his stomach that he'd wasted his chance.

Then again, did Poison want the same thing as him? Frank had to be cautious here, he knew he'd seen something in their eyes, but whether or not it was the exact same as to what he was looking for he wasn't so sure. He wanted to believe it was, and had Kobra never had that talk with him all those weeks ago he probably would have run with that belief. But because he had, he didn't. He didn't want to get hurt, to ruin whatever it was they had going, and he'd rather wait it out and allow them to make up their mind than to rush into it and hope for the best, only to be let down.

He let out a groan and let his head dip, falling into his open hands. He was in a right fucking mess.

Then he heard the footsteps outside the diner door. He froze, listening, noticing how uneven they sounded, as though whoever it was outside was drunk, stumbling. Was it Poison? He found it hard to believe, he'd never seen Poison being more than slightly tipsy, so it seemed unlikely. He slowly raised himself from his seat, grabbing a ray gun from the counter beside him (Jet's one as far as he could tell) and pointed it directly at the door. He heard the door begin to creak open, slowly, and he steadied his aim. But, when he saw the familiar red hair peek through the entrance, he let out a sigh of relief.

"Jesus Christ, Poison, you scared the life out of-"

He stopped. Something about the way Poison had stalled at the door made him worry. They were holding their hand up to their nose, looking down at the ground while clutching onto the doorframe.

Frank took a tentative step forward. "Poison?"

They lifted their head and Frank's jaw dropped for a moment. They looked like hell. Their face looked battered and bloody, lip split and nose bleeding heavily (what their hand had obviously been trying to stop). They had dirt smeared on their cheek and Frank could just barely make out some cuts on their knuckles from where he stood.

"Holy shit", he said as he rushed over, not thinking twice about it as he wrapped one arm around their waist and the other pulling their own arm around his shoulders. He heard them let out a grunt and he pulled them over to the booth where he's previously been sitting, setting them down gently on the seat.

They were in a pretty bad way. "Is Kobra still up?", they asked, lifting their hand up to their nose once more.

Frank shook his head. "No, he's been asleep a while now".