Re: [Infirmary: Holly/Frank]
"Bad luck," Holly echoed. "There's a lot of that going around." But he didn't begrudge Mr. Rook his unpracticed apology. He wasn't good at, like, soothing people either. That was Noah's area of expertise, and it sure wasn't his. But, sitting up a little with a groan, he wondered how much Mr. Rook knew. It was kinda hard to know who knew what around here, and it wasn't as if anyone told him. He always got the sense no one trusted him, and why should they? He wouldn't trust a guy he'd put in a body bag either.
As for who to contact? "Nah, no one." He never listed Noah, because he kinda would rather the military not know about Noah. They knew about Bea, since she got his check, but that was part of the divorce settlement, and Gramps wasn't going to answer a phone. His mom? He hadn't even gone to see her since he'd been here. So, yeah. "Nah," he repeated.
Now, he wasn't expecting Mr. Rook to be sympathetic? I mean, not everyone at the base was an asshole, but his trust for the military was pretty nonexistent. "Yeah?" He sat up a little more at the mention of some time away, and he winced, feeling the movement sharply through the morphine soothing. He looked kinda desperate in that moment, no more than 22 and scared. It was a blip, right? Because Holly was generally unreadable. "I think the tracker in my ankle works for finding me," he added, you know, deadpan, not knowing if this guy knew about that, not caring that he was mentioning it, either. "I'm not gonna bail. I did that once, and I didn't like the result," he said truthfully, trying not to think of those days and days of interrogation. "Why are you being nice to me?"