Frankie Lawson (_hiss) wrote in birthrightrpg, @ 2021-10-09 16:24:00 |
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Entry tags: | frankie lawson, hanna pulaski |
Someone
Who: Hanna/Frankie
What: Unburdening
Where: Las Vegas, unnamed restaurant
When: Three Months Ago
Content Warnings: Mentions of violence
She was down to the last name on her list.
It had been almost two years since that night in a rainy clearing, and Hanna had finally gotten to her remaining target. She killed Simon Morton in the parking lot of the convenience store where he worked, and Wyatt Garvey in his driveway as he was walking back from his mailbox. It had been three in the morning, and she’d had to exit the car to finish him off, but the neighborhood around them had been bad, bad enough that she doubted gunshots were a rarity.
It had gotten easier at some point. She wasn’t sure when. As if the violence of what she was doing had faded into the background, leaving only the need to get it done. She wanted to be done, for it to be over.
She hadn’t told Frank, was hoping she wouldn’t have to. She suspected that he suspected, because she’d been doing recon and checking up on her quarry as time went on. They had discussed his own unique situation, and if she was honest with herself Hanna was putting it off not just because she could wind up in jail, but because she didn’t want him to worry she might pull a gun on him. Somehow she’s drifted from dating the man to being in a relationship with him, and she didn’t want to hurt him or otherwise fuck it up.
They’d agreed to meet for dinner at a place close to her apartment. Hanna was planning to suggest a walk afterwards, because the evening was clear and cool. Fall was on its way. Maybe she’d invite Frank up for an evening-ending beer. Or something else.
“Don’t fuck this up.”
There was a sense of peace that came with knowing that Hanna knew his secret. Frankie was still a mess around her -- that would probably never go away -- but it was nice knowing that he wasn’t holding anything back anymore. It wasn’t the easiest point to raise with new people, after all.
And disappearing for a few days a month didn’t fly if you were trying to make something that would last -- in itself a scary thought, and Frankie didn’t want to get ahead of himself, but still.
It was nice.
They had given him a table at the restaurant in mere minutes, the family-style place not terribly busy for the time of night, and Frankie was fiddling with his cutlery and water glass, waiting. It was always nerve-wracking, being the first one to arrive. It felt like the waitstaff was eyeballing him, the scruffy looking guy in the leather jacket about a size too big, waiting to see if he would be stood up. In all honesty, even after the time that had passed, Frankie couldn’t help but wonder himself.
He’d chosen a booth near the back, and Hanna watched while he arranged his tableware before approaching and slipping into the seat opposite him. Was the jacket new? She couldn’t remember seeing it before. “Am I late? I got hung up at the last minute. A neighbor needed some help getting her car unlocked. Sorry if I kept you waiting.”
There were only a few other customers, but the dinner rush hadn’t started yet. She started to pull the paper circle free of the napkin surrounding her silverware. “I like the jacket,” she remarked off-handedly. “I didn’t think the city got chilly around this time of year, but I might have to break out one of my own in a week or two.”
Frankie’s face split into a grin the moment Hanna arrived; he just couldn’t help himself. There was a word for it, one his mother had gleaned from an old Disney movie and used to use when he found himself in the throes of puppy love as a child: twitterpated. Just the thought of it made him grin even wider.
Frankie didn’t think about his mother, or his father for that matter, very often. He had forced himself to find some detachment as a young man, to live his life simply for the most enjoyment of each day, but there was always a lingering sense of grief. He often felt as though he had no one left in his corner. Sure, he had friends, and many acquaintances, but it had been a good long while since he’d had someone. He was pretty sure he had someone now.
“We’re on Vegas time, no one’s ever late or early,” he told her cheerfully. He reached up and jokingly popped the collar on his jacket. “Pretty cool, huh? Came into the shop last week, a straight sale, so I picked it up myself. Desert’s given me thin skin, I’m always freezin’ if I ain’t wearin’ my fur coat.”
The brunette smiled back, and she should tell him. She should tell him tonight, and it was almost over so it wouldn’t hurt anything. If the actual doing of the thing had gotten easier, it had also started to feel like a lie that she was keeping it away from him. At first she hadn’t wanted to, and then she couldn’t, and now she was afraid to. He’d sold her the gun, but she didn’t know if he’d get it. She owed it to him, though.
Just not here, in this brightly lit place where people brought their kids. The days were shortening, and they could really talk outside. A waiter in a bright blue shirt came over with another water glass and two plastic coated menus. Hanna took one with an absent thanks, looked at the pictures of plates of sandwiches, bowls of soup. Maybe she should have the spaghetti, or the lasagne. Something filling for fortification.
“How is the exciting world of secondhand sales, anyway?”
“Pretty quiet, under and over the counter,” Frankie admitted, picking up his meny to peruse the offerings. Restaurants like this were all the same: burgers, sandwiches, soups, salads… standard fare, most of it pretty decent. It wasn’t long until the next moon, and Frankie was already experiencing a few intermittent cravings.
He’d probably get a tuna melt.
“Did have a guy bring in a sizable rock last week, but no serial number,” Frankie went on, shaking his head before offering Hanna a grin. “No dice. A guy’s gotta have standards, right?”
“Definitely. You overlook things, it tends to get inconvenient. And involve cops.”
Hanna ended up asking for a large bowl of chicken noodle soup as a side for her spaghetti, swung one foot back and forth idly under the formica table. “I’ve been looking into some classes,” she said once their orders had been placed. “It turns out there’s a way to do it online, part time and whatever. The courier job does have its perks, but I don’t know.”
She bumped his calf under the table, a rare playful expression on her face. As weird as it might have seemed, his goofiness complimented her occasionally sour outlook on the world.She had forgotten, just a little, what it was like to simply be happy
“Yeah? Nice!” Frankie said, delighted. School was never for him -- he skated by, at best. But he had been raised in an era where it was drilled into the minds of young people that further education was the only way to go. If Hanna wanted to make a change, it seemed like the perfect starting point. He’d never make a good study buddy, but he’d be an extraordinarily enthusiastic cheerleader if she needed it. “They gonna make you do algebra? That shit’s the worst.”
He’d ordered his tuna melt and a double order of fries; he’d forgotten to eat lunch that day and was feeling the effects. A little carb-loading in the evening wouldn’t hurt.
The meal passed amid idle talk and the enjoyment of just being with someone she liked. Hanna watched the sky outside darken in between bites and conversation, and she could feel the nervousness subsiding. They’d built something here, though it was still new. She had to trust that she could explain it so he’d understand. She wasn’t looking for approval, just for Frank to not freak out.
“I think I shouldn’t have emptied my plate,” she said with a smile as the server was off getting their check. “Good thing I spend most of the day on my bike, huh?”
Frankie chuckled, swallowing back the last of the coffee he had ordered. “Sweetheart, you got nothin’ to worry about, bike or no bike.”
He meant every word of it. He’d read a quote somewhere, years ago, online -- something about sliding into your grave worn out and grinning with a drink in your hand -- and it had become something of a philosophy for him. All of the good things in life tended to take their toll on the body somehow, but who cared? Any day could be your last; he was determined he would at least get in a good meal.
And besides, he had no room to talk. Anyone who would make time with a scrub like him, especially knowing he was a tabby cat once a month or so, was fine as wine in his book.
‘Sweetheart.
He brought out the soft in her, what there was of it. The Pulaskis of South Deering were made of tough stuff, and she’d dragged herself out of the crater her life had become through sheer will and more than a little meanness. It wasn’t just attraction, although there was a lot of that in there; Frankie was a damned good-looking man, and Brian had been right, she did have the start of cartoon hearts in her eyes.
Hanna waited until they were alone again, getting ready to hit the sidewalk, to slip both hands under his new jacket. Her fingers plucked at the fabric of his shirt, and she craned her neck enough for a kiss. A real one, although there had been slightly awkward goodnight kisses before this.Up this close, his eyes were almost blue.
“Let’s go for a walk. It’s a clear night, we might even be able to see some stars.”
Frankie’s eyes went very wide and soft for a moment when Hanna pulled away, as though he couldn’t quite believe she had kissed him. It passed quickly, replaced by a goofy grin, and fell into step beside her, glancing up at the night sky.
“Hardly ever seem’em around here,” he mused quietly. He half wanted to hold her hand, but wasn’t sure how it would be received, fingers twitching at his side. “Too much light from the Strip, blots it all out.”
The sidewalk was just starting to get busy when the two of them stepped outside, and she hooked one finger through Frankie’s closest belt loop. Not quite as intimate as holding hands, but close to it. The sun had just dipped past the horizon, the shadows lengthening as night fell over the city.
“Got plans for fall? I guess the city’s not much for the changing of the leaves, but the weather will be cooling off soonish. As much as it ever does, I guess. What’s next that doesn’t involve work?”
He gave Hanna a crooked smile. “I guess I just take things day by day,” he admitted. He had never been one for planning too far ahead into the future; the world could change on a dime, after all. Frankie liked to be ready to roll with the punches.
“But I’m open to any ideas you have.”
“Really get to know the city. When I first got here, I thought it was all clubs and casinos, but it isn’t. I want to do some exploring. The classes are online, so I can mostly set my own schedule.”
She tried to shake off a sense of impending Something, because Frankie just seemed so good-natured. Not weak, just kind. Hanna let out a soft breath.
“And finish what I started.”
She let it hang there for a minute, and after a silence she added, “During the last few weeks of Basic, we went out on maneuvers. A long weekend in the woods, like camping but different. If I had known there was going to be a moon, I might have stayed the fuck home.”
She shrugged one shoulder, blew out another breath that was more like a sigh. “I was the only one who got out. Afterwards, a few months later, I decided to...do something about it.”
She risked a look at him, first in profile, then making eye contact. They’d reached a semi-private spot, near the bus stop she’d passed on the way to meet him. If he was going to freak, she’d know it soon enough.
Frankie listened in silence, the weight of Hanna’s words settling heavily around him and the jovial mood he had been carrying beginning to slip. He had known there had to be something. Bike courier or not, there weren’t many people who would roll up into a pawn shop looking for a gun in the middle of the afternoon. He let her have her secrets; if it was worth telling, she’d tell him when she was ready.
Now that he knew, well... It was heavier than he’d thought.
The woods usually meant wolves, though his own infection had long made it clear to Frankie that it could really have been anything. He swallowed hard.
“Wolves?” he asked. “Or… uh, something else?”
“I thought they were dogs at first. I didn’t know back then that the stories were real, and it was dark and the rain that had been threatening all day had just started. I thought about rabies, that one of them had been bitten and spread it before they could be put down. I guess I was half right.”
She let out a noise that might have been a laugh, but it was a cold, distant sound. “I lived because I ran, or climbed. I used to have these nightmares where I couldn’t get high enough, or I fell out of the tree, or just…” The brunette waved a hand around in the air. “The worst thing was feelin’ like I left them to it, y’know? That didn’t happen until later, but when it caught up to me, it caught up hard.”
The street was getting busier, traffic picking up. “I didn’t know I could...do that. Not really. That’s the one thing even the army can’t prepare you for, whether or not you can go through with it.”
Frankie shook shook his head. “Running was the smart thing,” he told her. He hadn’t met many people like -- people who lived their lives with a careful eye on the moon. The few he had encountered hadn’t been the nicest of people. The draw of the moon was powerful; Frankie had felt it himself. Not everyone had it within them to keep hold of their faculties when the change came -- and not everyone wanted to.
He could only imagine what an entire pack of them could do together.
“The way it sounds… the way you described it, they were out to do damage, whether they meant it or not. Catch someone unaware, even trained military people…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “Fight or flight kicks in, one way or another. You’d either’ve ended up dead, or worse.”
He paused again, wondering, not wanting to say it, then gave a nervous, humourless laugh. “You, uh… you got a vendetta against all of us, or just the ones who can do more damage than a few mice here and there?”
“Frank.”
Some of the coldness receded, and Hanna gave him a smile that was both understanding and weary. She’d expected the question, that when she told him he might wonder for his own safety. She’d slipped her index finger out of his belt loop when she started to talk, shoved her hands into her pockets because she wanted too much to reach for his hand.
“I want you to understand that I wasn’t playing games or taking advantage. I asked you out because I wanted to. Knowing... knowing doesn’t change that. Maybe I thought if I could finish without telling you, it wouldn’t matter. That it would be done and over with. But that’s not fair to you.”
Her shoulders went up and down. “You are not them. You are not them, and you are not that. I’ve seen your heart, Frank, though I think somebody must have hurt you at some point. I’m sorry for that, too.”
Frankie gave a slow smile, pinking to the ears and ducking his head to scratch behind his ear, unable to meet Hanna’s gaze for a moment.
“Eh, I’m okay,” he relented, then chuckled. “I don’t think my neighbor’s pekinese would agree, but…”
He glanced up, his smile growing more genuine a moment before fading into a more serious expression. “I learned pretty quick as a kid that there’s a helluva lot more going on in the world than I understood, or even my parents understood. There’s a lot out there, Hanna. More than wolves. More than… y’know, cats. Things. That won’t hesitate to hurt you if you get in their way. But there are others too, people who kinda… kinda try and keep a cap on all of it, keep people safe. It’s not all bad, but… you know, you don’t have to go it alone. Not if you don’t want to.”
“I know.”
She was thinking about Brian, about the brunette she’d run across a few months ago. Hanna shook her head. “It’s almost done anyway. They made this personal, to use a really bad cliche. I don’t even know if this is what...if this is what they’d have wanted. The others. Given the choice, I’d make them alive again, but I don’t have that power. So the best I can do is make the ones who did it dead.”
She’d inched into his space as she spoke, looking down at the sidewalk, at her shoes. “If you need time or whatever, some space to get used to it, I won’t push. I just wanted you to know.”
On instinct, Frankie wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close against his chest. There was a vulnerability there he hadn’t seen in Hanna before, and he’d be damned before he let her think him callous or uncaring. He hadn’t realized that she was up to her eyeballs in the same short of shit he had been dealing with since his first kitten-moon.
He needed her to know that she didn’t have to go it alone.
And maybe that was all she’d wanted, to know that he still saw her as human. She’d come to Nevada looking for blood, and she’d found it, but she’d found something else too. Something for what came after, when this was over.
Hanna took her hands out of her pockets, and her arms went around Frank’s waist as she rested her forehead against his shoulder. Breathing out the last of her tension, she let it settle, that he understood, and if he wasn’t really okay with it, he was still here. She locked her fingers together at the small of his back.
“Thank you, Frank.”