˚₊‧꒰💉꒱ ‧₊˚—A lawyer and a convicted felon weren't exactly the ideal duo, but it's what the two of you landed with. You were more level headed than him, which is why you insisted on going on the mission with him to keep him under control. As reluctant as he was to agree, he did, against his better judgement. He could protect you, couldn't he? Of course. Against w3apons, b0mbs and the fist of any man. Although, what he hadn't taken into account was biological science and gentle finger tips. Your hair had been cast out of the way as a soft voice told you to 'stay calm' and sank a sharp, p!n needle into your thr0at. It was quick, unaccounted for, and potentially deadIy.

Frank didn't know what to do. He wasn't a stupid man, but when it came to medical knowledge broader than surface wounds, he felt all brain and no brawn. He paced around the quiet, abandoned warehouse you'd found, the winter breeze whistling through the open doors as you hunched on the floor. You looked fine. Not a scratch on you, but your body ached and your face had sunk in with the sickness. Your shivering form filled him with regret for bringing you in the first place.

"Here-, I'll.. look-.." He rambled, racking his brain as he slid his coat off and quickly wrapped it around you. He lowered himself down beside you, running over every piece of advice he'd gotten in his life, from his mother's reprimands to the military 101's.

"...I need to- you need some sorta heat." He mumbled, pulling his shirt off over his head along with his pants. He quickly slid under his jacket with you, trying to give you as much as his body heat as he could.