the tortured poets department

✧.* ༉‧₊˚

Karen’s apartment is quiet, the flowers slightly wilted on the windowsill. Everything with her parents has old memories being brought back up, the sting of them threatening to overcome her at any moment. This meeting with Frank is important, slightly distracting Karen from her inner turmoil. 

They’re almost finished cracking the case, just needing to pass on a few more bits and pieces of new information before they have all of their evidence ready in order for Karen to publish and Frank to know everything on his situation.

A soft knock is heard on the wood of Karen’s door, Frank giving a slight smile as her enters the dimly lit apartment.

“The flowers, they’re wilting. Maybe my old fashioned communications idea wasn’t so smart after all,” Frank says, glancing over at the droopy bouquet of flowers he gave Karen a few weeks ago.

“Safe to say I’m not the best gardener, but they’re still pretty,” Karen replies, a slight dryness in her voice.

Frank nods, sitting down on the couch as Karen joins him in an armchair.

“I found out about his family, he’s been faking his death for a little over a year now. His wife is so shaken about it, I don’t know how he can stay hidden for so long. I would’ve been on that doorstep the second I found out if my family had even a sliver of chance of being alive.”

“I know, Frank. Maybe he can’t face them because of what he did. If he’s keeping tabs on them, he has to miss them awfully. I think he feels guilty about what he did and he knows his family is safer and better off without him.”

The topic of families has never been avoided between the two of them, considering Frank’s story. Now that he’s thinking, he doesn’t know anything about Karen’s family, or even really how she got in this position of having to help him in the first place.

He knows the subject is touchy when he can hear the end of her sentence run off slightly, her voice getting quieter as she reaches the very end of her words. The faraway look in her eyes tells the same story, her gaze focused on the wall and seeming more far away than her usual thinking stance.

“Karen?” Frank asks quietly, not wanting to pry, “Are you okay?”

It takes a minute for her to respond, still in her own mind struggling in her inner turmoil.

“Yeah,” She replies, a weakness in her voice she’s trying ever so desperately to hide.

“I know when there’s something you’re not telling me, Karen.”

The room falls silent, Karen’s eyes still anywhere but Frank’s. He looks over at her, attempting to pull her back to reality with a brush of their fingertips together.

She shivers slightly under his touch, finally making eye contact.

“What’s wrong?” He asks again, his voice still soft as Karen breaks away from his gaze.

“Nothing, Frank,” Karen says, an underlying tremor in her voice. “I’m fine, let’s get back to what we were discussing, please.”

“Did someone do something to you, hurt you?” Frank questions, his voice becoming more stern and cautious.

“God, no. It was a stupid phone call, okay? Can we please just leave it alone.”

“I don’t want to leave it alone when you’re obviously hurt, Karen. You’ve been there for me so many times; Hell, you literally were there for me in court. Let me help you just this once. Is letting someone in really that hard?”

The room succumbs to silence once more, Karen’s eyes now locked on the wall across the room, tears threatening to spill down her face.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to..”

“I’m fine, I’m always fine,” Karen whispers, her voice barely heard over the sobs.

Frank pulls her into a hug, comfortingly holding the back of her head against his chest.

“It’s okay to not be fine, Karen. What happened?”

“I called my parents because I really needed their help. Safe to say I haven’t been missed in the least. They don’t want me back, they never will. My past still haunts me years later, they’re all better off without me.”

Frank just holds her, letting Karen talk everything out knowing how little she allows herself to depend on other people.

“I’m here for you, Karen. You don’t always have to be fine. It’s okay to fall apart sometimes.”

He can feel Karen nod against his chest, sniffling slightly as she lifts her head up to lock eyes with him.

“Thank you Frank,” She says softly, her eyes full of gratitude.

✧.* ༉‧₊˚