Chapter Text
You didn’t have to get up you know, Bill says. Frank only stifles another yawns, and tries to get the sleep out of his body, I can make my own meals.
I know you can. But I want to, Frank says, which is true, even if it’s still dark out. He wanted to send Bill off to hunt with some home cooked meals-- or, at least when it came to Frank’s cooking ability, some home assembled meals. And fresh coffee. That he could make. Bill was the cook in the family, no doubt about it. Family. They were a family weren’t they. Frank thought it was a good word. Family was whatever you made it after all, I’ve never been hunting. I don’t know why you have to leave so early.
It’s a few hours away, Bill says, looking and sounding like a kid who was very nervous to start at a new school. There was no way that Frank was going to send him out into the wilderness alone. He had to make sure he was confident enough, and if that meant getting up before four, then so be it. He’d just take a nap later, Ain’t been hunting proper for years.
Then you’ll have fun, Frank says firmly, pouring coffee into a Thermos, You seem to get along with those guys. You were all talking about shit I didn’t understand, but you seemed to get along.
You sound like my mother, Bill laughs, I’ll be fine.
Of course you will. You like shooting things. And you can use the meat to cook me something nice for dinner. Listen, I got down some of the gloves and scarves for you. I know it’s still warm, but I worry you’ll get cold at night, Frank says, And don’t say anything about me fussing over you. I’m allowed to fuss over you, that is my God given right.
If that’s what does it for you.
What’s bothering you? Frank asks, because Bill sure as Hell isn’t going to tell him unprompted, Do you not want to go? You can tell them I’m sick and you gotta stay home and babysit me. I don’t mind being your excuse. Plus I do like being around you, just not enough to go sit in a cold cabin for three days in the dark and eat non descript meat out of a can. I’d rather have, you know, electricity.
It’s not that, Bill frowns, looks down at his shoes, and then at the space next to Frank, like he’s actively avoiding making eye contact, I think I have some kind of attachment issues. I don’t want to leave you alone. I’m afraid of leaving you alone.
Because what if the world ends, Frank replies, ensuring that not a single sliver of teasing sneaks into his tone. He doesn’t want Bill to think he’s making fun of him because he’s not. He knows when to reign it in. Bill doesn’t mind a little bit of teasing. He can even admit when he’s being a little overly cautious, but right now isn’t the time to tease. Bill seems genuinely distressed, You’ll only be three hours away. An hour and a halg maybe, if you drive fast enough to go to jail.
Yes.
And I’m pretty well trained in what you’d like me to do in various end of the world scenarios, Frank says, which is certainly not something he could have said two years ago. He usually humors Bill’s survival lessons, where he learns how to tinker with machines, get the generator going, first aid, rationing-- lots of things Frank is almost certain he will never need, but Bill is just waiting for the opportunity to use. He doesn’t mind it really. It’s kind of sweet, how much Bill wants him to be safe, to stay alive if everything goes to hell. Besides, it makes Bill happy to have somebody willing to listen to him and at the end of the day, Frank wants nothing more than to make Bill happy. He likes seeing Bill smile, seeing him laugh. Nobody’s been making him smile for a long time, until Frank got here. He can tell. He’s got to make up for all that lost time, All the big ones. Government collapse. Natural disaster. The works. And to be perfectly honest with you Bill, I’m not sure there’s a force on Earth that would keep you from me if the world came to an end. You’d go through Hell and high water to get back. So I’m not scared of it. I think I can manage until you get back home. I want you to go and have fun and make friends with these guys. It will be good for you to have friends that aren’t me.
Bill finally meets his eyes, Thank you.
For what honey?
You just always know what to say I guess.
I know what to say when it comes to you, Frank reaches out, squeezes Bill’s hand once, You have fun. I’ll be here when you get back. I’m always going to be here when you get home. I might take the time alone to paint that living room. God, that paint needs an update.
Bill laughs, looking a little more at ease. The tension leaks out of his shoulders, and he collects his things off the table, sticks his hat on his head, You have free reign.
I know, Frank smiles, Somebody’s got to do the decorating. I love you. I’ll see you in a few days. Try to make some friends. I personally wouldn’t bring up the end of the world too often, but maybe the situation will call for it. You never know. It won me over.