He finally succumbs to sleep after a long hour and a half of watching her, curling in on himself protectively though his every intention had been to hold her. When he wakes a few short hours later, it feels like he hasn't slept, the echoing clang of nightsticks against cell bars startling him though it came from inside his head. Frank's head whips over to make sure she's still resting and he leans over with a pounding heart to brush some hair off her forehead and press a soft kiss there. With as little impact as he can, he gets out of bed and retrieves a shirt on his way out, the morning chill seeping into him without the cover of whatever corner of her blanket she'd left him in the night.

It's on to the bathroom to observe the stubble of his hair attempting to grow in, much thicker through the sides than the top already. Frank sighs as he runs a hand over the prickly surface before craning his neck to study the wound she'd left him on his throat, stark and red compared to his yellowing bruises and the deep red-purple of the scarring on his chest - another reason he'd put clothes on before introducing himself to the mirror. He splashes water over his face and cursorily brushes his teeth before moving on to the kitchen to see what she'd left him. He can already tell no one has cooked here since he left by how clean every surface is, but he manages to scrape together enough for steak and eggs, thanking his previous self for freezing the meat as he starts up the coffee pot - the only appliance that's seen use since his departure.

He'll go on drinking coffee and leisurely cooking - allowing the aroma and soft sounds to wake her rather than doing it himself.