[Drabble]
Frankie wasn't the best with numbers, but she estimated that it had been roughly one hundred and fifteen years, give or take a decade, since she had cried. This was of course excluding tears from physical pain. As those were an uncontrollable response, especially given some of the scrapes endured in her line of work, she chose to not count those against herself. Emotional tears were another matter. She couldn't remember the date, only the circumstances. The last time she had cried had been the night she had left home. Feeling defeated and powerless, she had curled up in her horse's stall in the barn, and she had allowed herself to sob for an indeterminable amount of time. At that time, she had truly believed her future had been taken out of her hands. She was going to be forced into marrying Dawson, and that was the end of it. And what was a wife, if not a slave? All that was different was the title. The role remained the same.
She had sobbed until she felt weak and exhausted, nearly falling asleep on the straw lining the floor of the stall. And then something had clicked for her. She saw the horse's saddle, and remembered her father's change of clothes hanging on the line outside. She had changed, saddled the horse, and taken her future back into her own hands, and had found no reason to cry since. So long as she could manage some kind of control over her life, she would be fine.
Finding Keegan sitting next to Colin's bed had completely shattered her no tears streak.
She had held herself together, if only barely, while she was still in the room with Colin. She knew that he was hurting enough as it was, both physically and emotionally. She would not compound his pain. But once she had the privacy of her own room, what calm she had managed to cling to vanished. She sat on the edge of her bed, buried her face in her hands, and cried.
Colin was hurting. He was in mortal danger. He as good as had a countdown ticking off seconds above his head. And there was absolutely nothing she could do about it. Keegan worked for Tokoyami. He was out of their realm of capabilities. And she had promised Colin that she would not try to go after Keegan. She had hated making the promise, but knew that Colin would not have exacted it from her if it wasn't for her own protection. Her word was her bond, and Colin knew that. He knew that, in asking her to promise something, he was as good as tying her hands. And she knew that he would never tie her hands, unless it was for her own good.
For the second time in her life, Frankie felt truly and entirely powerless. Only this time, unlike the time before, she knew that it wasn't just a result of her not being creative enough with the tools available to her.
She hated Keegan for it. She didn't know the man at all, but she knew that she had never hated anyone so much in her life. In one single move, he had nearly taken Colin from her, and he had robbed her of her sense of freedom. She wondered if the bastard even knew. She doubted sincerely that he would care. And to add to all of that, he had caused her to question if she even knew Colin at all.
"Which one is she?"
Just what the hell was that even supposed to mean? She was Frankie. Colin's partner, lover, and friend. What code was he speaking in, and why wouldn't Colin share it with her? Frankie had never been an emotionally needy person, and she would never push Colin, but it had become glaringly clear to her now that she had very little idea of where Colin had come from. The man she thought that she knew so well, the only man that she actually trusted, was in fact largely a mystery to her.
She hated Keegan for bringing that revelation to light. She hated him for putting a chip in her sense of security. But more than anything, she hated him for the simple fact that he would be the one that would make her break her promise to Colin. Because Frankie knew damn well that she would not rest easily until Keegan was dead, and she would have no satisfaction unless she had played some part in bringing his death about.
She had sobbed until she felt weak and exhausted, nearly falling asleep on the straw lining the floor of the stall. And then something had clicked for her. She saw the horse's saddle, and remembered her father's change of clothes hanging on the line outside. She had changed, saddled the horse, and taken her future back into her own hands, and had found no reason to cry since. So long as she could manage some kind of control over her life, she would be fine.
Finding Keegan sitting next to Colin's bed had completely shattered her no tears streak.
She had held herself together, if only barely, while she was still in the room with Colin. She knew that he was hurting enough as it was, both physically and emotionally. She would not compound his pain. But once she had the privacy of her own room, what calm she had managed to cling to vanished. She sat on the edge of her bed, buried her face in her hands, and cried.
Colin was hurting. He was in mortal danger. He as good as had a countdown ticking off seconds above his head. And there was absolutely nothing she could do about it. Keegan worked for Tokoyami. He was out of their realm of capabilities. And she had promised Colin that she would not try to go after Keegan. She had hated making the promise, but knew that Colin would not have exacted it from her if it wasn't for her own protection. Her word was her bond, and Colin knew that. He knew that, in asking her to promise something, he was as good as tying her hands. And she knew that he would never tie her hands, unless it was for her own good.
For the second time in her life, Frankie felt truly and entirely powerless. Only this time, unlike the time before, she knew that it wasn't just a result of her not being creative enough with the tools available to her.
She hated Keegan for it. She didn't know the man at all, but she knew that she had never hated anyone so much in her life. In one single move, he had nearly taken Colin from her, and he had robbed her of her sense of freedom. She wondered if the bastard even knew. She doubted sincerely that he would care. And to add to all of that, he had caused her to question if she even knew Colin at all.
"Which one is she?"
Just what the hell was that even supposed to mean? She was Frankie. Colin's partner, lover, and friend. What code was he speaking in, and why wouldn't Colin share it with her? Frankie had never been an emotionally needy person, and she would never push Colin, but it had become glaringly clear to her now that she had very little idea of where Colin had come from. The man she thought that she knew so well, the only man that she actually trusted, was in fact largely a mystery to her.
She hated Keegan for bringing that revelation to light. She hated him for putting a chip in her sense of security. But more than anything, she hated him for the simple fact that he would be the one that would make her break her promise to Colin. Because Frankie knew damn well that she would not rest easily until Keegan was dead, and she would have no satisfaction unless she had played some part in bringing his death about.