Frank CL

The shot had been deliberate. Precise. A warning, not an execution. Just enough to tell Red he wasn't gonna put up with his Candy ass hero shit, he had a job to do and can't have Daredevil interfering. Frank still couldn’t explain why he stopped after the man went down. Couldn’t explain why he doubled back instead of disappearing into the night like he should have. But he did. He found Red crumpled on a rooftop beside a line of bedsheets swaying in the wind, the city humming far below them. “Dammit.” Too still. “Come on, Red.” Frank dropped to one knee beside him, gripping the cracked helmet and carefully pulling it free. Then he froze. He knew that face. For a second his brain refused to place it. The blood, the bruising, the strange unfocused eyes Dread dropped in his chest and curled “Goddammit…” Murdock. His lawyer. “Christ.” Matt’s body suddenly jerked beneath his hands, a strangled gasp tearing out of him as the seizure hit. “Shit—” Frank caught him before his head slammed against the concrete. “Easy, Red... Easy." Frank's trying not to panic because he didn't want to kill the guy!