Would You Carry Me To The End?

Max's POV

I catch his fist mid-punch, bending it behind his back and shoving him hard into a tree. I'm not in the mood to fight, but then again I'm not in the mood to be called a trap, either.
He runs forward, about to tackle me, when I step to the side. Causing him to smash face first into the ground. And once he slowly get up, trembling with anger, that's when the real madness starts.
Too many punches and kicks are thrown and blocked to be counted. From the outside I swear it would look like it came straight out of a comic book.
But then I feel a pair of arms lock around mine and pull me back. Looking up, I see Gerard struggling to pull Mikey back.
I continue to try and break Franks grip. I'm already imagining the happiness of landing a punch right in Mikey's jaw. I can tell by the look in his eyes that he's thinking the exact same thing.
Eventually I stop trying to get free, and Frank hesitantly let's go.
I don't run back forward and start another fight. Instead I go over to the table and begin to pack up my medical supplies into my box. I'm not going to stay if I'm gonna be nothing but trouble.
Then Mikey says exactly what I expected. "You're out."
I don't respond. I just continue packing up, stacking my boxes into my bag, zipping it closed. But then I hear Frank speak out and say something that I can admit, I didn't expect.
"You throw her out? I go with her."
Is he serious? This is his house! I've only known the man for 12 hours...
I see Mikey thinking. Is he seriously considering letting Frank go?! But then he snaps out of his thoughts.
"Fine. As long as she doesn't slit our throats while we're sleeping."
I feel the slight urge to crack a smile, but I stop myself.
"Come on, Max." says Frank, grabbing my hand and dragging me upstairs. This is gonna be a long, long stay...

*****************

Earlier today, Frank showed me my room. It's pretty big. A bed, a wardrobe, a desk, all I need. He pretty much showed me everything about the house. But now, the sun's finally gone down, and I'm alone in this room. As I lie down, looking at the ceiling in the clothes I wore yesterday, I can't help but wonder why he took me in.
Don't get me wrong, I love it here. This is the first time I've slept inside for a year and a half. But, I don't deserve to. I literally cause nothing but trouble wherever I head.
No, really. I can't keep my mouth shut when someone's rude to me. And dare I say it, I can't keep my fists in, either.
just by looking at Mikey, I can already tell that the two of us aren't going to get on well. Who knows what'll happen next?
I would've left right then and there, but Frank insisted he would leave, too. I've been living outside for years, I'm used to it. But as I got my first glance at him, I knew he was an insider.
Hell, when that pack of 50 attacked us, he ran inside and looked at me like I was from a madhouse when I pulled out my revolver. If he was outside, he would have no shelter to escape to. I don't think it
would be safe for him to follow me back into the open, so I stayed.
But I know that I can't stay. I'd be a burden, and I know it. So I decided I'm going to leave tonight. That way I'll be gone. That way I'll be gone, and in the morning, no one will follow.
I take my time as I leave the bed. I mean, I won't be seeing another one in a while. Once I'm standing, I walk over to the desk and unzip my bag that's resting on the chair.
I pull out a pen and pad, tearing off a piece of paper. Looking down at the sheet. Blank. Just like this desicion. No, I have to shove all this second guessing shxt away and continue to stick with my instinct.
Think. What to write...*sigh*.

Dear Frank,

*************

Frank's POV

I wake up groggily as the dull, grey light from outside floods in through the open windows. At least it's a LITTLE warmer today, but for some reason I still feel the need to crawl back under my blanket and never come out.
But I get up anyways, my bones cracking as they move from their previous stiff positions. I think I'll wait a bit before I get changed for the day, considering its only 6:30, anyways.
I decide to go make some breakfast, so I walk down the spiral staircase onto the first floor. But something's not right. Max's combat boots aren't by the door anymore. Maybe she took them upstairs? I run back up the stairs and open the door to her room. She's not there, and I notice that her bag's not there either.
Calm down, Frank. She probably just went out to get something. But then I see a note written on a piece of paper. I begin reading it before I even reach the desk. And before I finish it, I already know what it means. She left. All I can do now is stare at the signature at the bottom of the page.

Max

Notes

So, sorry if it's a little rushed, and sorry it took so long to update. Been busy. Anyways, hope you guys enjoy it. :)
Happy reading ^_^