THE END OF ALL THINGS // FRANK

[freddie]

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— looking through the sniper scope, he followed a moving figure down the road. granted, it wasn’t their target, yet fred seemed to be pleasantly entertained with this way of passing the time. what else was there to do, stuck in a church bell tower simply waiting for their target to come about? his finger still lingered on the trigger, slowly starting to grin at the dark idea of watching that person crumple to the ground. his mind was only taken off of the idea as he spared a subtle glance towards will.

frustrated, fred knitted his brows together and lowered his gun. he looked down at the town below them, watching as the figure headed into one of the old homes, calling it a day. he sighed. this town was so slow. why would frank leave flintlock to live here? “what’s taking so long?” impatient as ever on a mission like this. the man turned his gaze from the darrow household to instead gaze over towards his brother. it wasn’t like will was the most patient either; the longer they spent hiding out there, the more fred itched to climb down this damned church and find the man himself. he so desperately longed for bloodshed.

shifting absently, he huffed a short breath. delighted by this opportunity. “this is just like old times, yeah?” fred had to admit that had he missed it. their lives had been relatively normal as of late. while it had been almost relaxing at first, fred started to hate the normalcy. there was nothing to get his heart rate pumping, adrenaline coursing through his veins. he had started to miss that feeling. needless to say, when eddie made the order for them to come to bluestem and kill franklin’s fiance-- the two brothers had been quick to jump on the opportunity. it wasn’t as glorious as their last mission - a giant, bloody massacre of an entire group - but fred would take anything they could get.

pursing his lips, he looked down at the sight of a familiar figure. shifting around, he nodded down towards the man, starting to grin. “target.” he just about readied himself to line up his shot and take him down. though, deciding to be so generous, he hummed. “you know what? you can do the honors.” placing the sniper down on the ground, he settled for resting his arms casually on the wooden overlook of the bell tower, eyes sparkling with dark excitement. “take him out.”

after will fired, the horror on frank’s face was simply too good to ignore.

[roman.]

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— roman often struggled with his own identity. after most of his life playing one act after another, trying to convince people he was something he was not, he didn’t even know himself enough to say exactly who he was. he wore this mask for so long, he completely forgot about who he was underneath it all. however, in this new life with frank, he felt like he was slowly starting to figure out who he wanted to be, and what he wanted out of life.

he wandered back towards his home, glancing about bluestem with an absent gaze. After a long day of work and chores, it would be nice to finally get home and rest aching feet. He looked at his home in the distance, shoulders relaxing a bit at the sight. the idea of settling down in one place used to terrify him. and yet, there he was, unable to see himself ever wanting to pack up everything and leave this place. sure, it had its ups and downs, but at the end of every night, he had someone to come home to. he always had his partner to lay down with after a hard day, to vent to, to hold, to comfort. to love. his gaze turned towards his house in the distance, watching as the front door opened.

the idea of putting so much trust and faith into someone else seemed to be almost impossible for someone like roman darrow. full of trust issues and fear of abandonment, one would think ro would have spent the rest of his life alone without second thought. however, once frank came into the picture, everything changed. he found himself wanting this life with frank, a life that was mundane and simple. a life that was effortless and light. and frank made it easy. granted, it wasn’t perfect, it wasn’t easy, but rome never wanted perfection. he wanted this life with frank.

something in his features seemed to soften slightly at the sight of his fiance stepping out to greet him. he huffed a short breath through his nose, picking up his speed a bit. “hey. were you waiting for me?” he called almost jokingly. and it was supposed to stay this simple and easy forever. roman wanted it that way. he wanted this life with frank, spending the rest of his life in their rickety old house with frank to come home to every day.

but it seemed that things never went the way they planned.

the sound of a gunshot made roman flinch. and, for a moment, everything seemed okay. roman felt nothing for a fraction of a second, brows furrowing in confusion as the world simply continued to carry on after the gunshot. he shifted, almost readying himself to take a step forward to get closer to frank. get home, get to frank - it was a powerful instinct amid the shock and confusion. however, a growing burning sensation in his abdomen made a hand instinctively go to the site of pain, lips pressed together tightly as a subtle wince of pain.

he should have known what had happened, yet his mind felt like it went blank, his body painfully numbed. radio static in his ears. his body seemed slow to truly let on how hurt he was. rome seemed to hide the truth from himself for that moment, too, almost unwilling to look down at his torso, even as his hand felt sticky and wet. slowly he lowered his head to look at his abdomen, finding his hand covered in blood. features remained unusually stoic; his mind struggled to catch up with the gravity of the situation. moving his blood-soaked hand away, he looked at the growing amount of blood pooling on his shirt. he released a shaky breath.

seconds felt like minutes as he lifted his gaze hopelessly towards frank, as if there was anything his fiance could possibly do. his gaze lingered, helpless. what could be done? rome didn’t know what to think; he didn’t have any time to. the corners of his vision started to grow black and fuzzy as the pain slowly started to seep through the shock. within only a few short moments, the shock that had been protecting him from the realization began to fall apart before his very eyes. rome fell to his knees, trying to fight the strong urge to black out as he collapsed on his side.

[STIRLING.]

#1b2763[align=center][div style="width: 430px; text-align: justify; font-family: verdana; font-size: 6pt; letter-spacing: 2.5px; word-spacing: 0px; line-height: 12px; color: #000"]A tense sigh filtered passed his lips slowly, William Stirling sat with his back against the wooden overlook as he tapped ash off the end of his cigarette. The wait for their target was, quite frankly, tedious but at least he didn’t have to stand the entire time. The good thing about having his brother for company was the fact that, whilst the both of them shared a keen interest in the gruesome, Freddie tended to be more eager about it. More active in the role. Kind of like a green schoolboy who’d always wanted to give something a go. On the other hand, William was far more subdued in his approach. More like the maestro of sharpshooting.

Casually, William exhaled the last small plume of smoke before standing up and deciding to oh-so-respectfully stub the cigarette out against the side of the bell. Luckily it was too heavy to push from a standstill and so it wouldn’t chime and attract the attention of all of Bluestem Prairie towards the two assassins - that would be the last thing they needed right now. After all, Fred and Will had orders from Eddie, and William didn’t plan on getting on the wrong side of that little bastard. But, the longer he waited, the more restless he grew. This was always the worst part of the job. The waiting. Dammit, he just wanted to cut to the chase, watch the life bleed out of someone and know that it was done with his two bloodied hands.

He wanted the thrill of danger. Of life and death.

William went to stand near by his brother, comfortably resting his arms on the overlook as he searched the quiet streets of Graveyard. Freddie seemed so focused on following another passerby, but William only had one target on his mind. ❝ This is just like old times, yeah? ❞ That was one way to put it, William contemplated with a glimmer of a smile resting on his lips. ❝ Less glamorous, but sure. We don’t even get paid for the jobs we pull off nowadays- ❞ He paused in thought, before turning his head to complacently joke, ❝ which must be… heartbreaking. For you. I mean, it was why all the women flocked around you, but now that that’s all in the past… ❞

It was no surprise that William was already poking fun at his little brother dryly, looking as if he was thinking hard about something before he uttered, ❝ Though - I suppose - I wouldn't know from experience. I still get a lot of attention. Even without the money. Maybe it's the personality, or my eyes. ❞ Perhaps it was boredom talking, but William’s playful bites were enough to get through this tiresome wait. But, just as luck had it, it wasn’t long before Fred clocked onto their target. William narrowed his eyes, following Roman’s movements back towards his home before Fred began to lower the gun. With a puzzled look on his features, William flitted his gaze over to Fred before realizing what this meant.

William would be the one to pull the trigger.

❝ You’re too kind. ❞ William hummed passively as he leaned down to pick up the sniper rifle. And, preparing himself and the rifle, he rested the bipod on top of the overlook as he followed Roman through his scope. ❝ Hmm… Atta boy. ❞ Roman was being so helpful in his own murder, the way he made it so easy for William to steady his aim and then fire.

With a curious glimmer in his eyes, William watched as the horror unfolded down below. Roman crumbled to the ground with the most satisfying look of defeat whilst Frank rushed over blindly, irrespective of the evident danger still lurking. ❝ That ought to do the job. ❞ William was composed and unaffected as he began to gather his belongings. After all, they could return to Flintlock Lodge, inform Eddie that Roman Darrow was dead, and get on with an easier life.

[STIRLING-MORAY]

#d69342[align=center][div style="width: 430px; text-align: justify; font-family: verdana; font-size: 6pt; letter-spacing: 2.5px; word-spacing: 0px; line-height: 12px; color: #000"]This life was perfect. This life was his. Breaking away from the good-for-nothing Stirling traditions, Frank was prepared to make this life his own. In fact, he sacrificed all that he had in order to start a new life with Roman. A new family. And, after settling down with the man he was going to spend the rest of his life with, Frank finally began to realize what genuine happiness felt like. There was no pressure to compete with his more callous brothers or do things that he didn’t want to do in the name of the Stirling enterprise. He could just live a life of normality.

With every passing day, Frank never did realize that he could love somebody more and more in the way he loved Roman. Their love was simple and sweet; never too overbearing and always comfortable. It was the same kind of comfort as someone finding repose in their home because, to Frank, home was Roman Darrow. He loved getting to spend every day waking up to his face, cherishing every simple touch and kiss, and getting to settle down in the restful evenings beside the man he loved. They didn’t need constant conversation to thrive; in fact, the silence was comforting to Frank. This life had become such a routine for them, one which Frank would be happy to repeat for the rest of his days.

Because of Roman’s love, everything had changed for Frank.

Having settled down at home with the dogs an hour or so prior, Frank had decided to make something for dinner when Roman returned home for the night. Every once in the while, his gaze shifted to glance out the window, expecting to see his fiance wandering home after a hard day working. And, eventually, when looking up again, icy gaze landed on Roman in the distance, wandering back towards the house. His heart picked up in pace slightly; whilst he never really expressed his feelings, he certainly felt that oh-so-familiar sensation of adoration for Roman every time he saw him. That cliche sensation of having butterflies in his stomach stood true for him, even after being with Roman for months now.

Stepping outside onto the porch, Frank casually rested his hands in the pockets of his jeans as he leaned against the wooden pillar, fondly watching Roman. His lip twitched briefly as his eyes locked with Roman’s, quirking a brow at his comment. ❝ No. ❞ He replied jokingly, always so blunt with his words but, as his eyes glimmered with a look of playfulness, it was clear to see just how glad he was to see Roman. ❝ I was waiting for my other fian- ❞

His body flinched at the sound of a gunshot.

It took a couple of seconds for everything to make sense to Frank, that joyous glimmer fading as his gaze settled on Roman’s face. Where did that gunshot come from? Briefly, Frank glanced away to look for anyone else on the street who would have also heard the sound, but the road was quiet. Frank glanced back to Roman, lips parted to comment passively. But then he saw the blood, and Frank’s heart felt as if it’d stopped.

❝ Oh my God- ❞ Frank uttered, eyes widening in horror as he watched the man that he loved so dearly take notice of the blood on his hands before staring back up at Frank helplessly. And, without thinking of the consequences, the danger that running out into the open could make him a target too, Frank stumbled frantically down the steps before rushing towards Roman as he collapsed to the ground. ❝ Ro? Ro?! ❞ Voice panicked and afraid, Frank fell to his knees beside his partner as shaking hands nudged his shoulder. ❝ Roman- Ro- Talk to me! ❞ Nudging turned into him shaking Roman’s shoulder, heart slamming against his chest. Oh God he couldn’t lose Roman; Roman was all that he had. Breath was ragged as he cupped Roman’s cheek in his hand, shaking his head slowly in shock. What the fuck was he supposed to do? He didn’t know how to save a life, no matter how hard he could try.

He pushed him onto his back, trying to feel for some sign of life. A pulse, albeit a weak one. Eyes felt wet as he then twisted to pull Roman’s shirt up to reveal a gruesome bullet wound in his abdomen. ❝ Shit. ❞ Words were choked out feebly, shaking hands held in front of him with uncertainty. What could he do to save his loved one’s life? What could he do? Frank placed the palm of his hand over the wound, applying pressure before he looked around. ❝ Somebody find me a medic! ❞ He shouted so loud that his voice crackled in agony. ❝ Somebody! ❞ He choked out despite his throat feeling so tight and constricted.

Would this be the day that he’d lose everything? Frank looked back down at the wound. God - there was so much blood. Gaze darted back up to Roman’s face and, through the tears which threatened to spill, his voice wobbled with fear, ❝ Oh God, Ro - don’t you fucking die on me… Please. I can’t lose you. ❞ He paused, hanging his head low before he clasped onto Roman’s hand with his free hand. Pressing his lips against Roman’s knuckles, Frank gasped gently for breaths. ❝ I’m here, Ro. You’ll be okay, won’t you? I love you. So much. I can’t lose you- ❞

[roman.]

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— it wasn’t supposed to be like this.

roman never claimed to have his entire life mapped out. he often tried to go with the flow of things, not particularly caring about where exactly life took him. for a long time he just tried to do enough so he could scrape by. all of that changed, though, once frank was in the picture. everything changed. roman found himself no longer wanting to just sit down and watch his life fly by. no; he found himself wanting to plan out everything in his life, center it around his life partner and all that was in store for them -- because he wanted those moments. he wanted to know that by the end of it all he didn’t have a single regret about his life with frank. he wanted to know that he didn’t miss a single thing that could’ve been done with frank by his side. perhaps it was selfish of him, foolish of him to think that they would have so long together. though every time, he looked into frank’s icy blue eyes and he just knew. this was the kind of love that was once in a lifetime; he couldn’t miss a single thing.

every piece of him felt weak. he cursed the world and its cruel twist of fate. it wasn’t supposed to be like this. this wasn’t supposed to be where their story ended.

suddenly everything went dark. rome expected there to be some sort of sign, something, but nothing ever came. there was no dramatic, beaming light at the end of the tunnel for him to come towards, or a weight lifted off of his shoulders as if he was being lifted up to a better place. there was just darkness. chilling, empty darkness. was this death? the realization seemed slow to sink in. his heart weakly pounded in his chest. was he dying?

someone gripping and shaking his shoulders only then made him start to realize that he wasn’t dead. not yet. blacking out was only the start of this sudden, painful death. “roman- ro- talk to me!” frank. god, frank. the thought of leaving him felt more painful than the growing pain in his abdomen. after all that they had been through, and this was the end of the line? a bullet shot caused by someone with a vendetta against bluestem or something? it wasn’t fair. it wasn’t fair to roman, and it especially wasn’t fair for frank; the man who left everything he once knew behind to start this new life with rome. none of it was fair. his head lolled to one side as he was put on his back. eyes opened slowly, vision blurred as he tried to make sense of it all.

eyes found frank momentarily, his gaze not staying too long before everything went blurry again. his words came out just about automatically, in a quiet and pathetic mumble; “what are you doing...? go inside-” get to safety. every last fiber in him was screaming for frank to run somewhere to hide from the attacks. it hadn’t yet registered to him that there hadn’t been another shot fired since the one that hit him. it hadn’t hit him that the bullet was specifically meant for him. there was too much of the story that roman had yet to understand. so much that he had left to learn. the reality of it was that none of it made sense. why? why him? why now? roman would never have the chance to understand.

and it sucked. roman always thought that he had time to make some sort of redemption for all of the things he had done. he would get to make frank’s life better after that time where he made it miserable. he would get to give to others to make up for all the times he had stolen and pickpocketed their riches from under their noses. he would get the chance to take every little bad thing he had done and leave it behind him. leave it all behind for this new life with frank. yet time seemed to have ran out for him, and the pain and torment of it all was enough to glaze pained eyes. was he going to die being regarded as the villain in everyone’s story? the weight of it was almost too much to bear. all he’d be known for was a swindler and a cheat...

a shaky, breathy sigh replaced the desperate cry that wanted to leave his mouth. he could hear frank talking, voice wobbling and scared; “oh god, ro - don’t you fucking die on me.. please. i can’t lose you.” huffing and puffing weakly for breath, one hand blindly searched for frank nearby; frank took hold of his hand, lips pressed to his knuckles. there was so much that roman wanted to say. his mind felt fuzzy as he tried to desperately juggle between clinging for his life, while also trying to get out all he wanted to say while he still had the chance. ”i don’t want to die… i don’t want to die..” the words that tried to escape but failed, coming out in a hopeless groan that sounded mangled and painfully wounded. words that he wanted to say but it seemed almost like he didn’t quite know how.

eyes rolled momentarily back into his head. eyes focused back in again and - blood. there was so much blood. he squeezed frank’s hand as tight as he could, disappointed that he couldn’t hold frank’s hand impossibly tighter. “i love you. so much. i can’t lose you-” it wasn’t often for either of them to vocalize those words; more often than not they were words they brought to life, rather than speaking them into existence. it should’ve rang somewhere in his head that this was bad. that frank was saying it because he didn’t know if he’d ever get to say it again. and shocked as his body felt, as if the very life was draining from him with every passing moment, there was something in that moment that was enough to make his lips twitch into the smallest smile. his thumb drew circles gently into frank’s hand, eyes finally finding his beloved partner once again. it was worth the amount of effort it took to hold himself there.

“frank-” he started, body shuddering briefly from the pain. there was so much he wanted to say, so much he wished he could say. though the devastating part was that he’d never be able to get those last words in. he would die without getting to tell frank he loved him, too- without letting frank know that he was the best part of his life the moment he walked into it. the pain of that alone hurt just as bad as the bullet wound. a short sob caught in his throat. so much left to say… he briefly registered that help had arrived. he could see the medic behind frank, frantic to get everything started. yet rome couldn’t bother to acknowledge that the medic was even there, simply holding frank’s gaze in that moment for as long as he possibly could. his hand squeezed frank’s for the last time, hand eventually going limp in frank’s grasp as everything went dark again.

---

when he finally awoke hours later, the realization of it all felt slow to hit him. eyes weakly opening to find himself in his home, barely able to see the color of dawn in the sky, frank holding him close; for a moment he felt like the evening’s events had simply been a bad dream. his eyes closed, not quite having gathered the strength it took to keep them open. he swallowed hard and moved just a bit, mouth dry and a sudden, aching pain in his abdomen making his brows briefly bunch together. then, suddenly everything started to come together. this wasn’t just an awful dream from the night before; it was a real life nightmare.

the gunshot, the immobilizing shock and fear.. the agonizing look in frank’s eyes, the fear that caused his voice to tremble and shake. it wasn’t the pain of his injuries that made him suddenly feel like he was coming undone; it was the weight of it all finally catching up with him that made his breath catch in his throat, lip wobbling. eyes opened once more to take it all in, to will himself for this to be true. he hadn’t died. he didn’t just die without getting to tell frank everything he wanted to; he didn’t get to die without getting to tell frank goodbye. he lifted a hand; all of his limbs felt weak and like jelly.

he still had the strength to take a fistful of frank’s shirt in one hand, bunching the fabric up underneath his hand. willing himself to believe that this was real. he felt himself start to get choked up, dry sobs making his chest tremble pathetically. “frank,” he rasped, breath quivering gently. what else was there to say? that he loved him? now that he had the chance to say all that he wanted to, should he say it all now? water glazed his eyes. his mind felt hazy and dazed, still overcome with overwhelming shock and confusion; he couldn’t say anything in that moment and hope it would all come out right.

however, he at least had the strength it took to lift up his other arm and throw it around frank, a choked sob passing his lips as he clung to him. eyes squeezed tight as tears threatened to spill, gently wetting his lower lash line. it was an overwhelming realization; he didn’t die. against the odds, somehow roman managed to make it through. somehow, there was still time left for him and frank. he promised himself not to dare take it for granted.

[STIRLING-MORAY]

#d69342[align=center][div style="width: 430px; text-align: justify; font-family: verdana; font-size: 6pt; letter-spacing: 2.5px; word-spacing: 0px; line-height: 12px; color: #000"]Roman would be so sad if he found out that Frank was crying because of him again.

Whilst the circumstances were all so different, the fear remained the same. Roman was slipping through his fingertips, first in heartbreak and now in death. A sudden, life changing twist of fate in both situations, Frank barely had time to register what he had until he was threatened with losing it all. And, he felt afraid. So afraid.

A nauseating fear settled in the pit of his chest, and Frank could barely still himself from the anxiety which coursed through his bones. He had to keep himself busy, distract himself from the noise inside his head. The vivid visions of the events of the past hours etched in the back of his mind as if it was there to stay. Maybe it was. Maybe this would be the day that his soulmate died.

He had paced every corner of the bedroom, teeth gnawing thumbnails and tired eyelids blinking back tears. He watched the way Roman’s chest rose and fell again faintly, a reminder that he was still there. Gaze lowered, shoulders slumped, and eventually Frank left the room. He walked into the kitchen to bring a glass of water back for when - for if - Roman woke up. Removing a glass from the cupboard, he felt rooted to the ground as he stared over at the cold pot sitting on the stove. A dinner for two left untouched. An evening that had gone so wrong. He blinked, swallowing hard, before he filled the glass and returned to the bedroom.

Gently, he lowered the glass onto the bedside table, looking down to take in Roman’s peaceful features. His heart slammed uncomfortably against his chest, the saddening realization that he felt alone in this moment and, perhaps, this feeling would last forever. If Roman were to not pull through, Frank would lose everything. Everything. He blinked back tears, chest falling unsteadily as an uncontrolled exhalation passed through his nostrils. Frank grimaced, unable to peel his gaze away from Roman’s face as tears began to roll down his cheeks. The struggle to not cry was nothing but a losing battle, shifting his weight as he chewed at the skin around his thumbnail before he began to walk around to the other side of the bed, crawling onto the mattress.

He lay down on his side, shuffling closer until he felt Roman’s warmth radiate against his skin. This was love. The most painful and tragic feeling of love. Franklin couldn’t bear the thought of losing his love, the gravity of the situation sinking in the longer he waited to see whether Roman would pull through. He raised his arm to flatten the palm of his hand against Roman’s shoulder, lips pressing adoringly against his skin before he fluttered his eyes shut, breath shaking as he cried silently.

The hours felt like a lifetime had passed, Frank holding on gently as he lay in silence, listening to the dull breaths of his fiance next to him. Slowly, his hand slid across from Roman’s shoulder to rest against his chest, feeling his soft heartbeat, feeling the way he breathed in and out so slowly. There was no guarantee that he would ever hear the sound of Ro’s voice again, the way he breathed Frank’s name with a feeling so inexplicably fond and adoring. Their eyes would never again meet across the room knowingly, the faintest glimmers of amusement in their eyes. They’d no longer share that dry, dry humor with one another, the humor of Frank's that only Ro seemed to understand.

Roman and Frank were two pieces which made each other whole. Roman’s life was Frank’s favorite part of his life; if only Frank had told Roman that. Maybe he’d spend the rest of his life regretting not telling Roman sooner.

He refused to open his eyes, using sensitive fingertips to feel the rise and fall of Roman’s chest. If Ro were to die tonight, then Frank wanted to be right there for when it happened. He couldn’t bear the thought of Roman dying with no one by his side.

And, in those hours in the darkness of their bedroom, Frank lay awake and listened to Roman’s steady breath. In all of this agony was an overwhelming guilt which riddled his body like a disease. The moment Frank’s heart found itself with Roman, he made life so much more dangerous for him. Frank was a danger, entirely unknown to Roman and - God - he felt that his omission was as much of a betrayal as lying was. He didn’t tell Roman the whole truth, that dark, grim truth that his family were not good people.

By default, that had made Frank a dangerous person to love.

After hours of breathing in his scent, taking all of Roman in and dreading for that last breath, his exhaustion eventually got the best of him as he drifted into a shallow sleep. Yet, an hour later, his heart lurched forwards when he felt movement, tired and bloodshot eyes blinking open again to look at Roman.

He was alive.

Swiftly coming to his senses, Frank’s lips parted in awe as he then proceeded to prop himself up slightly. Roman was disorientated, confused, scared - Frank could see it in his eyes. The way Roman cried broke his heart, the way he feebly spoke his name once more, the way they exchanged knowing glances.

The relief was so overwhelming that Frank’s body ached from the worry that had suddenly been lifted off of his shoulders.

He allowed his body to sink into Roman’s touch as he pulled Frank into a hug, Frank holding onto him as he buried his face in the crook of his neck. This wouldn’t be the end. Not yet. And, as Roman sobbed, Frank pressed comforting kisses against his neck, uttering the softest of reassurances, ❝ You’re okay… You’re okay- ❞

The sun was barely beginning to filter through the veil of curtains when Roman settled down, Frank having held him close for some time as he gently spoke to him. Frank cared about Roman more than he even cared about himself, and he wished for nothing more than for Roman to feel safe. But how could Frank feel that way when the danger lay in bed right next to Ro? Roman nearly died because of who Frank was.

Roman could have been dead because of him.

Frank shuffled back so that he could sit up and stare down at Roman, features somber as he tried his best to muster up the courage tell Roman everything. ❝ I- ❞ He took a deep breath, lips parted, ❝ I haven’t been honest with you… about myself. ❞ Words were quiet and riddled with guilt, Frank craning his neck anxiously from side to side before he flitted his gaze away. ❝ Uh… And I was thinking- ❞ Thinking was never good. ❝ I know what happened… to you. And I think it was because of me. ❞

[roman.]

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— of course death was a terrifying concept. however, the idea of dying without even getting to say goodbye felt far worse. ro knew what it felt like to have people suddenly leave.  rome’s life had fallen apart all those years ago when his family left him with very little notice - no reasons, no goodbyes. they were still around somewhere, lingering in the world even when they were gone from roman’s. his heart ached; years later and it was still a sore subject. he would never be the same again because of it. to imagine that the same thing could have happened to frank, but far more permanent. he couldn’t imagine how it would’ve felt for frank to have the very person he helped build a life with leave that life so suddenly. he couldn’t imagine the hurt frank felt through the hours he must’ve been clinging to life.

he said he would never hurt frank again. it pained him to look towards his fiance first thing after waking up and see those bloodshot eyes, knowing that frank had been crying and hurt for hours. thinking roman was gone for good again.

the weak, disoriented, and tired; with arms wrapped around frank everything else seemed far less important. he could only cling to his fiance as he broke down, burying his face against frank’s shoulder. even when everything felt like a blur around him, when his head throbbed painfully and his entire body felt weak, making him doubt everything -- frank was still his shelter without even second thought.

he wanted to hold onto frank impossibly tight, even while he barely had the strength to hold himself firmly together. not only was he struggling to do so, but he was also failing to keep himself together, through dry sobs and helpless tears. teary and bloodshot eyes closed tightly, sniffling pathetically. he was coming apart. though, with frank’s arms around him, it felt like frank was there to keep him all together, even as he came undone.

it took a while for roman to finally calm down. he eventually managed to grip onto the realization that he was going to be okay, he would manage to pull through. frank never let go of him until he was sure that rome was consoled, eventually shuffling back a bit so he could sit up to look down at the pitiful sight that was roman. reddened eyes blinked blearily at the curtains as sunlight filtered through, unusually quiet just moments after falling apart and slowly coming back together again.he was in pain, and painfully numb where he didn’t truly need it. his brain felt uncomfortably empty; everything in him felt empty. his emotions felt numbed; put on hold while the pain in his abdomen demanded to be felt.

“i-” eyes wandered towards frank. “i haven’t been honest with you… about myself.” the guilt that laced his voice was enough for something to lurch in rome’s chest. emotions still felt hard to grasp, though he could still feel his heart pick up in his chest, a sickening feeling in the back of his throat. he might not have been so concerned if it hadn’t been for the guilt in frank’s voice, the small signs of anxiety cracking through the man’s generally impassive features.

”i know what happened… to you. and i think it was because of me.”

roman tensed. blinked surprised eyes. at first, he might have assumed frank’s thoughts were wrong. a quiet sign of frank’s own insecurities, wanting to blame himself whenever tragedy struck those around him because he seemed more than used to bad things being his fault in the past. though if there was anything roman knew in that moment, he knew frank. maybe not all of his parts - maybe he never would manage to completely understand all of those dark crevices he hid within himself - but he still knew the anxious flitting away of frank’s gaze, how his voice could go so quiet when the weight of his words threatened to crush him. frank was serious, and the silence that filled the spaces between them was deafening.

it took a moment for roman to shift around. he slowly worked to sit himself up, the discomfort and pain almost nearly causing him to keel over then and there, screaming to himself that the movement wasn’t a good idea. he still sat up nonetheless, a quiet groan his only true sign of pain. leaned back against the headboard, he swallowed hard. “frank-” he started, overwhelmed with all the words he could say and all the questions he could seek the answers to. he was confused and wanted answers as to why frank would think that way; he also so desperately wanted frank to know it wasn’t his fault.

eyes searched frank’s own, wandering over somber features. he felt unsure what to say; what could he say? it took him a moment before he asked quietly, brows slightly furrowed, “what do you mean?” during the quiet between them, he settled for moving his closest hand to rest on frank’s knee, thumb gently brushing over bone. a gentle assurance. he didn’t know what frank was going to say, or what had truly happened to him -- but there would always be that silent reassurance that they were still in it all together. they always would be.

[STIRLING-MORAY]

#d69342[align=center][div style="width: 430px; text-align: justify; font-family: verdana; font-size: 6pt; letter-spacing: 1.5px; word-spacing: 0px; line-height: 12px; color: #000"]Life had started to mimic normality, this time with much more force.

Normality was a subjective term, however, defined by what ought to be expected. What was typical, but to who? To most people, a life of normality would refer to that slow and steady cycle of living to one’s fullest. The idea of growing up into a world you adored; finding yourself through passion and hobbies; finding love, settling down, having a family; being happy.

Franklin almost had it all, but that normality wasn’t typical of his life.

Lulled into that sense of security, it was only time until his core would be shaken back into the reality of what was normal to him. His life was not one of routine but one which had been tainted from the very beginning. Life, to Frank, was loss - it was amazing to see what humans could do, staggering on despite all of the trepidation along the way. His life was not one to live, but one to fear the worst because he’d already seen what the worst looked like. Despite a privileged life, it was one that had come with copious amounts of risk and grief to get where they had eventually gotten.

Frank had experienced more loss in his life than he would be willing to admit. Not even the loss of people who he had loved dearly, but the loss of his home, all things sentimental to him. The loss of his innocence, the loss of his childhood, the loss of what made him Franklin Stirling-Moray. Stripped of his own identity, thrust into a world where death superseded morality. In a world where he was the bearer of death to many, he had to have expected that in this circle of life, the same fate would eventually be granted to him, too.

Roman would save Frank, and then Frank would kill him.

How cruel was it to unwittingly seal his lover's fate when Roman had been the one to grant Frank a life worth living?

The room was static and dark as Frank watched his lover rest with a heavy, deathly heart. Who could be there to soothe him as he fought for his life? No one; only Frank. The man, himself,  who had led him closer to his death was now the man with the salty eyes as he cried at his side. Roman didn’t deserve to die.

When, at last, he woke up, Frank held onto Roman and didn’t let go. Lips pressed to his neck were little affirmations that Roman was alive and that Frank would always be here for him. That was the promise he made ever since he chose to commit himself to Roman Darrow. Had he done enough, though? Had he done enough to be there for Roman? Perhaps he hadn’t; Roman was admittedly an irretrievable mess, something which could have been prevented if Franklin had only realized that this life of his was permanent. He could try to run away from his normality all he could; but ultimately Life followed him wherever he went.

As did Death on most days.

With dawn swiftly approaching, the orange sky filtered a warm hue across the lovers’ faces, Frank’s cold eyes darting across Roman’s tear-stained skin apprehensively. His nerves tore through him as he urged those words out. Would Roman still love him upon learning about the monster he had let into his heart? Frank hoped that Roman would not despise him; he was not his family. He wasn't a monster like they were, was he?

Did they not all have blood on their hands somehow, where something somewhere within them and those around them had to die for them to live on? Frank was barely the person he was a year ago - he’d killed who he used to be - but being a killer did not make him a bad person.

He never meant to hurt Roman.

Roman shimmied himself up into a seated position, as if poised and prepared to run if Frank’s words spoke nothing but the harsh truth. That Frank was the reason for his suffering, and would forever be the reason that he had nearly died that day. ❝ What do you mean? ❞ Roman urged softly, but instead of retreating as Frank would have expected someone to flinch away from their killer, Roman embraced the touch of death as he rested a hand of reassurance on Frank’s knee. Frank sighed, though with a quivering breath, as he broke his gaze away from Roman’s beautiful blues so that he could instead focus on the warmth of his gentle touch.

Some people clung to life for longer than expected. Frank was grateful for that fact.

❝ What I mean is- ❞ His throat felt tight as taut brows bunched together in thought. Head shook from side to side, like a gentle flutter. Bewilderment. He’d finally have to shine a light upon the darkest crevices of his life. A sliver of the morning light caught onto perturbed features, lips parted ever-so-slightly. The thin line of light traveled down his chest as if, if it were powerful enough, it could open up his chest and reveal the two hearts that were beating. The man he wanted to be, and the man he was born to be.

❝ Well- ❞ It felt impossible to speak when his thoughts were drowned out by the painful thud, thud, thud of his heart. Face twitched with a grimace, shuffling uncomfortably. ❝ I didn’t know how, or when, to tell you… But my family? Dammit. Basically, they lead one of the- the most notorious crime families out there in this day and age. They're dangerous. I'm dangerous. ❞

Jaw trembled, Frank exhaling a controlled breath through rounded lips before glancing over at Roman with shame. ❝ My brother, Eddie, took over the family business after our dad died. After everything I’d seen leading up to that moment, I knew that I couldn’t be part of any of it anymore. That family, they’re just all levels of fucked up. My dad killed my older brother, my younger brother killed my dad. My dad killed my mom, and I think my brother tried to kill… you. ❞

Slowly, Frank lowered his head, leaning closer to press his shoulder against Roman’s. A silent plea for reassurance. They would be all right, right? Frank swallowed hard, ❝ I thought that I had finally gotten away from that life, and I don’t know why they’d want to hurt you, but I have some ideas. I’m sorry, Ro. I should have told you sooner. I shouldn’t have left you in the dark. I’m a liability, and it- it felt too hard to tell you, but it's even harder telling you now under these circumstances… when it’s already too late. You almost died because of me - of who I am - and I understand if you never want to see me again after this is over. Hell, I'd never want to see me again. ❞

He chose straighten up again, allowing Roman that opportunity to run whilst he still could. ❝ I'm so, so sorry. The last thing I ever wanted to do was to hurt you, Ro. I don't want to hurt you, I promise. I'm not like my family. I'm sorry. ❞

[roman.]

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— roman knew what it felt like to be damaged by the ones that he loved. it was painful and life-changing; he would never be the same again. others often failed to be able to comprehend such a tragedy; others often failed to even see the damage inside such a cold exterior. though it felt like nowadays, frank was able to see right through the cold facade. and roman was able to see just how damaged frank himself was. perhaps that was why he never could flinch at such broken pieces, unfazed by the occasional prick as he ran his hands along frank’s broken edges. different as their lives might have been before meeting each other, their pain they previously kept to themselves felt like it was something they both shared. two broken people gently holding each other’s fractured pieces; that was love. nothing could take that love away from roman.

except, something could easily rip that away from them. the idea that death had its cold grip on him had been overwhelming enough. the thought that frank was blaming himself for it - and ready to explain why he did - felt like it was too much, too soon. though it seemed like frank had been wanting to open up about this for a long time coming; now was just the only time he truly had the right chance to.

the air was stale and tense around them as roman watched frank try and formulate a response. dry eyes blinked uneasy, his heart raced with trembling trepidation. it obviously wasn’t easy for franklin to say. and, once the words were finally spoken - ”...the most notorious crime families out there in this day and age.” - they were even harder for roman to try and fully process.

“what?”

his voice was a hoarse, hushed whisper. a part of him almost didn’t believe it at first. though as he stared unblinking at frank’s features, the pain and discomfort towards the topic so clearly evident, the words finally started to sink in. his fiance had once been part of a crime family - and he was distraught about what that meant for the two of them. the devastation, though not perfectly visible across frank’s features, was so tangible roman could feel it himself. he swallowed hard.

the need to immediately reassure someone wasn’t part of roman’s nature. he wasn’t that kind of person. though as frank seemed to fall apart next to him, in the quiet and most heartbreaking of ways, there was a part of him that wished he could be. his heart had been frayed and worn down too much before to imagine making such gentle reassurances seem genuine. how desperately he wished he could say something to frank. even for a man that prided himself on often knowing what to say, the silence that filled the spaces between them was agonizing. he sighed a shaky breath from chapped lips. pale blues stared down at the blankets pooled at his waist.

“shit.” he spoke in a short breath. his throat felt uncomfortably tight and painfully dry.

his hand slowly slid off of frank’s knee. though, instead of standing up and bolting - as frank expected him to do - he reached over with a grunt of effort  towards the glass of water franklin had previously set on the nightstand. sitting straight, glass held in both hands, he took the opportunity to absorb the words during a small sip of cool water. his hands subtly trembled from the effort it took to raise and lower the glass.

for once, roman darrow was at a loss of words.

it wasn’t like there had been any way to prepare himself for frank’s truth. how could anyone ever be? his family was a notorious crime family, weaving a story of killing others - killing each other. and somehow roman managed to find himself caught in the crossfire of it all; a fight that he wasn’t ready to get caught up in. he had done nothing wrong to this crime family of frank’s, and still he was the one paying a price he didn’t know he had to pay. it was overwhelming.

overwhelming as it was, even as his mind swirled with countless thoughts, the idea of leaving frank wasn’t one that occurred to him. roman knew they were going to be okay. at the end of the day, rome still knew that it was frank that he loved. nothing the man said in that moment, nothing he did in his past, would ever manage to change that. despite lacking the immediate action to reassure frank - instead taking the time to ready himself to respond - even he knew that much. he wasn’t the most reassuring at that moment, but he was still steady, unmoving at frank’s side. a rock for frank to lean against, without the fear that ro would bolt away once it wasn’t so easily convenient.

placing his glass of water back on the nightstand seemed like he unpaused that agonizing moment. heart pounding in his ears, he cleared his throat. his hands busied themselves with thumbing through the blanket fabric, eyes watching absently. “a crime family, huh?” roman’s gaze turned up towards frank, lips parted slightly. “what did you do?” he shifted in his spot, as if the next idea itself made him feel uncomfortable. “you didn’t- come to bluestem just to get away from that life. right?” although it was something he thought he already knew the answer to- with all of the swirling thoughts in his head, he felt certain that immediately dousing that small inkling of doubt and fear would be sure to make it all far less overwhelming. while he was certain of their feelings for each other - frank couldn’t fake that, could he? - he didn’t want to feel as if coming here to live with him had been a convenient cop-out. he had the right to know. this was all news to him. jarring news at that.

it wasn’t jarring because it made him despise frank and who he’d once been; it was jarring because it was a whole new part of frank he never even knew existed. he knew a lot about frank. he knew the other man’s pieces were broken almost beyond repair. damaged. he knew there had been something in his past that made him that way, some trauma that made him that way - but he never knew exactly what it was. now that the answers had been laid out in front of him, he found himself off guard. unprepared to fully dive into it all at once. he didn’t even think he wanted to know that past inside and out - just the parts that mattered. the parts frank wanted to leave out in the open. the idea alone of poking and prodding at frank for any past faults was enough to make him feel sick.

silence settled in again. it was agonizing and uneasy, and made his ears ring uncomfortably. it weighed down on the two nonetheless, until roman eventually shifted towards his lover.  “frank. hey-” a quiet utterance. his hand found his fiance’s, placing his hand atop of frank’s own. eyes searched his partner’s for a few moments before he finally assured, “we’re okay.” it wasn’t an all-forgiving reassurance. the information would still take a while to fully process. his thumb brushed over the back of frank’s hand. gentle. he slowly shifted to rest his head down on frank's shoulder. he turned his head to press a short kiss on frank's shoulder. "we're okay." although not all-forgiving, it was still a gentle consoling. a reassurance that roman wouldn’t give up on frank that easily.