"No one does," he admits gruffly, including himself in that assessment. Though he'd never had anything extra-human before coming here, Frank has come to rely on the sixth sense granted to him by this place. Blaine doesn't make his hair stand on end, or his heart race. And it's not like he'd attack someone outright who was holding something he loved, no. Blaine isn't the only one who needs to navigate these waters carefully. Not by a longshot.

The cogs are visibly turning over in his head: Blaine is a zombie, he'll need brains. Also, a louder voice: none of this is his goddamn responsibility. Not again. And yet he knows if he fails to protect even one person, he'll blame himself for whatever happens. This place can denounce him all it likes, but he could never truly be uncaring in a community this small, not to mention helpless.

"Is that what you want?" Frank asks after a long pause, covering over his gaze with something more neutral as he levels Blaine with it. He's careful to only look at the man's face and not Bruno's, who still is as happy as can be. "To start over."