Clothes

Every Sunday evening, Sid gave Frank's muggle neighbors a sight to see. Rattling along on his skateboard, all 6'5'' of him, Sid precariously balanced a homemade pizza in one hand and a box of beer in the other, whistling a 3 Owl Standard tune, badly. It was dangerous considering Sid was better on a broom then a skateboard and either way, he was far too unwieldy to do it properly. Somehow he made it to Frank's apartment, like always, without much difficulty.

Tucking his board under his arm, still whistling, Sid jogged up the stairs to his mate's apartment. Arriving at flat 34, Sid put down the beer and hammered on the door. When Frank didn't open it and greet him, and especially his homemade pizza, with a smile, Sid frowned a little and hammered on the door again, this time a bit harder "Hey Frank... Frankie... Open up! " He shouted through the door, his frown growing when he realized that the door remained locked.

This wasn't like Frank. For years they had been meeting on Sundays for pizza, beer and some good old Muggle video games. Except when Frank went out of town, but he always told Sid before hand. Something in his stomach clenched and Sid's brow furrowed in worry. Glancing up and down the hall, Sid pulled out his wand and tapped the knob, muttering "Alohomora" A click told him that Frank, as usual, never added any enchantments to protect himself. The fact didn't make Sid feel any better.

When the door swung open to reveal Frank's dim apartment, Sid's fears were not dispelled. The state of the apartment only made them intensify. It was trashed, or at least, messier then normal. At first he thought that, perhaps, Frank had to leave suddenly. But his backpack, which he always took with him, was still left on the floor by the couch . He had to still be there. "Frank?" He called, flipping on the lights and putting the pizza and beer on the table. Shrugging out of his coat, Sid tossed it on the couch and called again, his voice a bit louder, but a bit more nervous "Frank? Dude... you here?"

Licking his lips nervously, Sid made his way back to the bedroom. The door was ajar and swung open freely with a light push, revealing a very disturbing sight. Stretched out on his bed, fully clothed in torn and filthy clothes, was Frank. He looked like shit. His perpetually messy hair was even messier then normal and it looked like he hadn't shaved in months, even though Sid had seen him the week before. His pallor was sickly and he smelled like body odor and something metallic that Sid's nose couldn't place. Was that.. blood? Was he even alive?

A shuddered groan from Frank's general direction sent a wave of relief through the youngest Dervish and Sid crossed the space between the door and the bed in seconds, slapping Frank's unshaven cheeks and shaking him slightly "Frank... FRANK! Wake up! Wake up, man! You're freaking me out..."

Sleep. That was Frank’s weapon for now. Or his fatigue was using it against him. Either way, he had been partaking in it for a couple days now, preferring that to whatever his brain tried to tell him was reality. And the pain… that had woke him up at the oddest times of the day, a gasp or yell escaping him as he startled to, choking down another gulp of pain potion before rolling over and falling asleep again.

He’d hardly felt up to eating, and hadn’t gotten out of bed for the past twenty four hours—he was lucky he had some water near his bed to keep him hydrated. The energy it took to take his clothes off had escaped him. All that mattered was that he’d gotten an owl off to Fiona, somehow, and was excused from work with an imaginary case of dragon pox. Aside from that, he’d lost track of days.

Deep in his sleep, Frank didn’t hear the incessant knocking. Nor did the voice call his attention from his dreamless sleep. His mouth hung ajar against the pillow, drool pooled on his pillow. He grimaced and shifted just slightly, a groan escaping him; a spasm in his back ignited. The slap made him startle a little, and the shake forced another groan out.

“Frank… FRANK!”

A louder groan escaped him and he pulled away from the shaking weakly, slowly forcing himself off of his pillow. Then the voice penetrated his haze and his eyes blinked in realization, turning towards his mate’s voice. A shaky hand reached up and he rubbed his forehead, rolling slowly on to his side. The bruises were sore, his arms and legs didn’t want to move, and he felt like he’d been mowed down by an entire Quidditch team.

“Ss…” He couldn’t even get enough spit to talk. Licking his dry lips, feeling the wispy beard, Frank turned his head into the pillow. “Stop…” His voice was soft, didn’t carry very far, and was muffled against the material. Finally he had control of himself long enough to roll on to his side. What was Sid doing there? “What’s… what?” His hands helped push him up to a sitting position on the bed. “S-sorry. I just… Dragon pox.” Did he look like he could have that? Turning away suddenly, he put his legs off the side of the bed, feet on the ground to steady himself.

He felt like he was going to be sick. “I can owl you w-when I’m fee-feeling better.” What was that awful smell?! Making a face, he rubbed his eyes and hung his head, feeling the pain in his lower back shoot outward, gritting his teeth as he tried to relax.

“What’s… what? S-sorry. I just… Dragon pox.”

"Uh... huh."Sid may have been gullible and naive when it came to people teasing him, but he was more then cynical enough to see through such a grade school excuse. It helped that his brothers had tried to convince him he had Dragon Pox when he was 8 and that he had to be proven otherwise by his mother and several magical malady books. Whatever Frank had, it wasn't the Pox. Not that what was afflicting him wasn't serious though. He looked and acted like he had been run down by the Knight Bus.

"Well Dragon Pox gives me all the more reason to haul your ass out of bed and down to Mungoes, doesn't it..." He chuckled, slapping Frank on the back lightly "... You look like you need a shower and some decent food. I'll go get the stuff to make soup... you take a shower. Please." Standing, he made his way to the door and paused, glancing back at Frank. Something was really bothing him and Sid didn't like that he wasn't telling him. It hurt that he didn't trust him.

"When I get back... I want to know what the hell you have been doing these last couple of days." He stated in an uncharacteristically serious voice. Turning, he added as he left "... I'll pick up a Prophet while I am at it...."

It didn’t sound like Sidney was going to believe Frank’s excuse. At least not Dragon Pox. The upside to using that excuse on his boss was that she wouldn’t risk coming over and checking up on him. She had a kid to look out for, after all. It wasn’t like Frank had ever given reason for her not to trust him either… Steadying himself as his head spun, sitting at the edge of the bed, he wondered briefly when he would feel normal again.

“Well Dragon Pox gives me all the more reason to haul your ass out of bed and down to Mungoes, doesn’t it…”

His eyes snapped open and grew wider, a quick intake of breath and a “No!” starting to escape him with the idea of going to St. Mungo’s. The slap on his back, however lightly, caused his protest to cut off halfway through, and another breath came in quicker with the sudden pain that brought. Wincing and tensed up, Frank listened; he needed a shower, he could agree with that. Though to be fair, he wouldn’t need a shower if Sidney hadn’t showed up…

The idea of food, though, made him a little queasy and a bit hungry. Loosening his hold on the sheets, Frank had his breath back enough to speak. “Ok.” He nodded slowly to show he had heard his mate and agreed. A shaky hand reached for his face, running over from his forehead down, slightly horrified to feel the unkempt beard and how much it had grown. “Sure.”

“When I get back… I want to know what the hell you have been doing these last couple of days.”

Wincing at that, his back still to Sid, Frank finally frowned slightly and looked over his shoulder. So he had until Sidney got back to make a sound proof alibi. His tongue darted out across his dry lips. Frank felt a bit too weak to fend off questions, not quite straight in his own head to really deflect concerns of his mate. However, he nodded as if in resignation. The mention of the Prophet, however, made his eyes widen and he clambered to stand up.

Nearly falling over with the rush of blood, blackness on the edge of his vision, Frank reached out and stumbled against a nearby chair. Letting out a curse, he hopped around slightly holding on to his foot. “Don’t-” Wincing and shaking his head, Frank grit his teeth. “Don’t worry a-about that right now.” He limped his way to his dresser, sorting through clothes. “I’ll just… shower real quick and we’ll have soup. Or…” Licking his lips at the sudden desire, he could almost taste the tender cubes. “Or we could have stew.” He had some steak, he was fairly certain.

After picking out a decent ‘around the apartment’ change of clothes, Frank made his way into the bathroom, taking a few minutes to snip and trim the mess on his face, finally attacking the remains with a razor. He still hadn’t found his wand… After examining his smooth face in the mirror, he turned the shower on and got in, nearly crumbling in slight joy at the sudden heat—it was amazing how simple things could make you overwhelmingly happy.

“I’ll just… shower real quick and we’ll have soup. Or…Or we could have stew.”

"Got it, got it..." Sid called as he shut the door behind him. Merlin knew that he needed to hurry. Frank looked like he had eaten as well as he had showered, IE not at all. It was with this thought in mind that Sid chose to make his grandmum roll her in her grave by apparating to the alley behind the nearest market. Ignoring the strange looks he got as he exited the one way alley, he pulled his jacket closer and hurried to the door. Once inside, he hopped on a buggy and awkwardly rode his way through the market, nearly bowling over a few kids in the process.

After procuring some good stew beef, carrots, potatoes, tomatoes and some spices, he embarrassed himself further by having to dig through sickles and knuts for a few proper euros. He stammered something about them being foreign, which the disinterested teen behind the counter just snapped her gum at, and paid for his things. Merlin why had he chosen a muggle market? He should have just taken a little more time and went to Diagon. Wizard grown veggies were twice the size and twice as tasty. Twice as much, though, which was part of the reason he hadn't gone.

The price of veggies on his mind, Sidney apparated back to Franks place while he was still in the shower. Good, he took the advice. Sid felt a wave of pride wash over him knowing that he had been able to help his friend. Maybe it was 'sad' and 'lame' of him, as his brothers always claimed, but Sid liked knowing he could help his friends. Nothing wrong with that. Though, cooking and cleaning for another male did make something in the back of his head cringe. He could just hear Sammy and Donny calling him "Dear" and demanding a sandwich. The thought made him nearly cut through his finger as he chopped the carrots.

Moving onto the meat, Sid realized in horror that he had not gotten enough beef for the both of him. With his size and Frank's dire need to eat, there needed to be twice as much! He must have gotten so preoccupied with getting out of the store that he didn't weigh correctly. Frowning, he started towards the fridge "... Hey Frank, do you have any bee--- whoa..." He paused mid call when he opened the fridge and saw that nearly two shelves were taken up with beef. "What the hell, Frank... Why are you on the Atkins diet? You're a freaking twig..." He muttered to himself. Pulling out a couple packets of stew beef, he shrugged. Lucky coincidence he supposed. He just hoped Frank didn't mind him using it.

About ten minutes later the soup was bubbling happily on the stove and Sid was in the middle of hooking up the gaming system to Franks ancient TV. Hearing him enter the room, Sid called out from behind it "Really man, I know we are wizards and all, but you have GOT to get a better TV."


((Hope the TV thing and him stepping out of the shower is ok... IF not, I can change it.))

Frank had been stuck in his apartment for too long. Or at least in his bed. The shower felt amazing, and after trimming up his hair a little bit manually and taking care of the beard attack, he felt a little better. There was little he could do about his bruises, but he took a little pain relief potion before slipping into his clean outfit. After a good teeth scrub, Frank shuffled out of the bathroom and back towards his bedroom, opening the window to let some of the cool refreshing air in—he felt stuffy.

As he started back out from the bedroom, he ran his fingers through his still somewhat wet hair, his body dragging from exhaustion and lack of proper nutrition, being led towards the smell of fresh cuts and bloody meat. This sharper sense of smell was a bit awkward at times, but he was at least glad it seemed to be subtle. The coppery smell was the one that lingered in his nasal passage, causing his stomach to flip flop in uncertainty. As great as it smelled, it also left a bad taste in his mouth.

“Really man, I know we are wizards and all, but you have GOT to get a better TV.”

A gruff laugh escaped him as he walked over to the windows, opening one before he collapsed onto the sofa, his feet lifting to the coffee table in front of him. “Are you kidding? I got a great deal on that one…” Closing his eyes a moment, he yawned behind a hand, stuffing his hands into his sweater pockets. “Besides, I think I have the right part to tweak the signal a bit, just haven’t had time to mess around with it.” Why spend money on something he had that worked fine?

The only time it was an issue was if they were playing a video game and you had to get within so few feet to keep track of everything on your side of the screen. Judging by Sid’s current location, he was setting it up for just that. Frank had missed his friend and wanted to hang out, but he also didn’t want to move or talk or do anything but roll over and go back to sleep. At least the fresh shave felt wonderful.

“Smells good, Sid.” Wincing, he shifted on the sofa so his back had a little more support from pillows, settling back against them for comfort. “How have you been, mate?”

“Are you kidding? I got a great deal on that one…Besides, I think I have the right part to tweak the signal a bit, just haven’t had time to mess around with it.”

"It isn't the signal..." Sidney muttered, squinting hard at the screen as he attempted to shoot what he thought was a another character. After unloading a clip in it's general direction, the screen went red and he cursed "Dammit! Come on! How the hell did you see me?!" He was so intent on the game, or at least on seeing the guys shooting him, that he didn't realize that Frank wasn't moving to join him. It wasn't until a few bursts of red and a few more grumbled curses later that he exited out and gave up. He then noted Frank's disinterested expression and furrowed his brow in concern. This was not like Frank at all.

“Smells good, Sid. How have you been, mate?”

"Same shit, different day... Ah crap the stew... just a second..." Sidney rolled to his feet and hurried into the kitchen, where he pulled the bubbling stew off of the open flame. Stirring it, he tasted it and nodded in appreciation before continuing "... I got a promotion of sorts at work... I have access to the cell area and even the Ministers office if something goes wrong..." Pouring the stew into a couple of the remaining clean bowls, he carried them into the living room. "... It's kind of a big deal.. Ow ow hot hot hot... here..."

He put one of them down in front of Frank before sitting on an ancient lazyboy next to the couch "... oh and I also got the newest 3 Owl Standard single... Tilly managed to get it to me a week early..." Smiling, he dug into his soup with fervor. Wasn't bad, though the meat was a bit pinker then usual. He just hoped the Frank didn't mind.

Maybe it wasn’t the signal, but he could mess with it at least. Or maybe, since Sid complained about the TV, he would do it. Feeling cranky and irritable, Frank frowned slightly and focused on something else, crossing his arms over his chest like a scolded child. It could be the signal. Or it needed a fuse replaced. Or any number of things. As it still worked, and did decent enough, he didn’t feel the pressing need to find out what was wrong with it.

Absentmindedly Frank watched Sidney, blinking at the exclamation. They could get quite noisy during a good fight. He wished he could focus enough to waste hours at a video game right then. It could help take his mind off of things. As it was, though, he didn’t have the energy to lean forward and pick up a controller. Frank could get on just fine watching someone else play. A small smile slid on as if he’d forgotten how, shaking his head at Sid’s disbelief. The problem was that he wasn’t an invisible ninja and was often seen more times than he could complain. Sid had a lot of red screens…

“Same shit, different day… Ah crap the stew… just a second…”

Frank remembered when life was like that. You get up, get ready, go to work, work, come home, relax, sleep, do the same thing the next day. It wasn’t really all that different now, except he had the heavy burden of what he thought he’d done. He got up, had guilt, shuffled around his apartment, thought about the people he remembered murdering, clambered back into bed, slept. Repeat. Or that was what he’d been doing, when he could finally move without a groan escaping him.

When Sidney went into the kitchen, Frank relaxed a little more and ran his fingers through his hair, scratching as an itch flared up on the back of his head. Listening to the muffled voice, Frank turned his head slightly and raised an eyebrow. “Oh wow. Congrats mate.” Seeing Sidney coming back in, he sat up slowly, his feet resting heavily on the floor, attempting to take the bowl but missing out before Sidney dropped it down in front of him on the table. “Thanks.”

Newest 3 Owl Standard single. Eyebrows rose as he assessed Sidney, the spoon digging in to the meaty stew. As much as his mouth watered, he held off on a bite. “Did you bring it over?” Frank enjoyed music, especially if it had a decent beat. From what he knew of the band, 3 Owl Standard had a variety of good tracks. Spearing into the stew, digging up a thick piece of pink meat, he quickly devoured it, munching on it and groaning in appreciation. With his mouth half full, the bite shoved aside, Frank nodded. “Mmm, good.”