Work Text:
I.
The girl from last night is wearing his shirt.
Or, more accurately, his shirt is swallowing up the girl from last night.
She’s a petite little thing—Maria, he thinks—with a smile bright enough to rival the morning sun. Frank can’t help but smile back, pushing himself back to sit up against the headboard.
“Good morning,” she hums, perching herself by his hip and leaning in to kiss him. His mouth opens easily under hers, not even caring about morning breath. He fits his hand to the curve of her hip and squeezes gently, chuckling against her lips when he realizes his palm nearly takes up the entire length of her side.
“Mmm, s’a good morning now.” Maria laughs and it makes something in his chest bubble, bright and fuzzy, and he forgets how to breathe for a second.
“Do you...” She trails off, trapping her lip between her teeth, and he frowns.
“What is it?” She shakes her head and curl falls in front of her eyes. Frank is quick to tuck it behind her ear, letting his fingers trail under her chin. He tilts her face up and offers her a soft smile. She visibly relaxes and turns her head, pressing a quick kiss to his palm.
“Do you mind if I make breakfast?” His face goes blank and dread sparks in her eyes.
“Can I marry you?” Her cheeks turn a deep red and she buries her face in his shoulder, giggling. “That’s a ‘fuck yeah,’ if you couldn’t tell.”
“I’ll need you to show me where everything is,” Maria says, a lilt to her words that sends a shiver down his spine. He sits up and noses at her cheek, letting his lips brush against hers.
“That can be arranged.”
II.
Frank hates waking up to an empty bed. He cracks an eye open and searches the room for Maria, wondering where the hell she could be when the sky is just starting to lighten. He grumbles as he rolls out of bed, not even bothering with clothes. He trudges toward the deck, knowing she’s most likely to be out there, taking in the view.
Sure enough, she’s relaxing in the deck chair, arms crossed over her chest as she stares out at the sunrise.
“S’early,” he mumbles. Maria doesn’t even flinch, she simply grins at him and reaches a hand up. He lets out a petulant sigh and takes her hand, lowering himself to sit on the long end of the chair.
Frank presses his lips to her knuckles and lets his cheek rest on her hand. He almost nods off again, but he finds himself wide awake as he watches her, watches his wife.
The word makes his heart do backflips, and she must know he’s thinking about it, given the way she sweeps her thumb across his cheek.
“Like the outfit,” he mumbles, his lips curling up in a smirk. She leans forward, letting the sides of his shirt from last night gape open, and a whine gets caught in his throat.
“You’re one to talk,” Maria retorts, eyeing his naked body.
“My shirt looks good on you,” he grins, a devious glint in his eye. She sighs and prepares herself, just knowing what’s coming. “But I bet it’d look even better on the floor.”
“You’re horrible.” He grins and tugs her forward for a kiss, his hand gently cupping her cheek.
“Maybe,” he replies, “but you still married me.” The phrase electrifies the air around them and she licks her lips, eyes dropping to his mouth.
“You’re goddamn right I did.”
III.
“Fuck!” Frank looks up from his laptop, eyes wide in worry.
“Mare?” There’s a heavy sigh from their bedroom, followed by a long pause.
“M’fine.” It doesn’t ease the tightness in his gut at all, and he gets up to check on her. Sure, she may be fine, but she also says it to placate him, even if she’s decidedly not fine.
Gingerly, he nudges the door open and peers inside.
Maria’s sitting on the bed, staring down at her rounded stomach with narrowed eyes.
“Maria?” The second she hears him, she turns her glare up to him and he swallows thickly.
“Frank, I said I’m fine,” she grits out, fire burning bright in her eyes; that’s how he knows she’s not fine. He raises an eyebrow and holds her gaze, until finally she lets out a sigh and looks away. “I don’t have anything to wear.”
Frank doesn’t laugh, he doesn’t even have to stop himself. He hates seeing her look so defeated. He crosses the room and kneels in front of her, one hand coming up to rest on her belly.
“Nothin’?” She shakes her head and his breath hitches when he notices the way her eyes shine with tears. “Didn’t we get some new clothes last weekend?”
“Yeah, but...” She sighs and buries her face in her hands, holding herself completely still.
“Mare?”
“Those are clothes for going out,” she explains weakly. He nods and gets to his feet, dropping a kiss to the top of her head before heading to his dresser.
When he turns around, a stack of his shirts in his arms, Frank finds her staring at him curiously.
“Try some of these,” he offers, setting the clothes by her hip. Maria rubs one shirt between her fingers, unable to look him in the eye. A tear rolls down her cheek and he catches it, thumbing it away and kissing the wet trail.
She leans forward until her forehead rests on his shoulder, and quietly mumbles, “you’re the best.”
IV.
“Frank!” He looks up from the book he’s reading, smiling when Lisa tugs on his hand.
“Hold on, sweetheart, mommy needs something,” he says, brushing Lisa’s hair back. She frowns and it makes his heart ache, and he sweeps her up into his arms. “Mommy’s probably not gonna be too happy that you’re still awake.” She giggles and lightly slaps her chubby little palm against his cheek.
“Frank!” He cradles Lisa closer as he makes his way down the hall, toward the bathroom.
“Yeah, Mare?” Frank gets to the doorway and stops short, tamping down on the laughter that threatens to bubble past his lips.
She’s standing in front of the counter, her hands on her hips as she stares down at Frank Jr. His diaper’s clearly been changed, but not before he… made a mess. Maria looks at him in the mirror, raising an eyebrow and daring him to say anything about the state of her shirt.
She doesn’t even have to speak, he simply sets Lisa down on the sink so he can pull his shirt over his head. Maria’s quick to change into it, balling her shirt up and throwing it in the diaper bag.
Now that she’s in a clean shirt, all the tension slips from her shoulders and she smiles up at him.
“Thank you, baby.” Frank hums as he leans in for a kiss, inhaling when he feels her hand on his bare waist.
“Don’t know how I’m gonna explain this one to your family,” he says once Lisa’s in his arms again, drifting off as she curls up against his chest.
“Your son shit all over my clothes,” she deadpans, putting Frank Jr.’s onesie back on, “I think they’ll understand just fine.” He snorts and looks down at Lisa. “But you don’t have to worry about that until after Lisa’s asleep.”
“Told you,” he murmurs, grinning when Maria punches him in the shoulder.
V.
Frank hasn’t been in his house ever since…
He can’t. He parks his car across the street and can’t even open his door. He still hears Maria screaming, still feels Lisa’s blood between his fingers, still sees Frank Jr.’s eyes rolling back in his head.
But tonight, Frank’s not leaving without going inside that house.
He takes a long swig from the bottle of whiskey in his passenger seat. He wishes he wasn’t too numb to feel the burn as it goes down, but that’s the only way for him to make it through the hours of the day anymore.
He forces himself out of his car and his heart leaps into his throat when he sees Frank Jr.’s baseball bat laying in the grass. They were going to play catch the next day.
He pushes down the bile rising in his throat and marches up the driveway, gritting his teeth. He is going to make it inside the house this time.
He blinks and he’s standing inside, his back pressed firmly against the door, and he can’t breathe. The house feels different; it’s hollow, empty, haunted. He swears he hears laughter coming from upstairs, and he closes his eyes.
Lisa’s smile flashes in front of his face as she thrusts a piece of paper toward his face. It’s a crayon drawing of their family, the four of them standing in front of their house, he can picture it so clearly; he knows it’s still hanging on the fridge.
Frank slowly climbs the stairs, lead sinking into his gut as he gets closer to the bedrooms. Lisa’s door is still open, her favorite book resting on her still-made bed. He somehow manages to walk into her room and pick up the book, his breath rattling in his lungs as he traces the edge of it.
Tucking the book under his arm, he makes his way across the hall, pushing Frank Jr.’s door open. His room is still a mess, legos scattered everywhere, a half finished model perched on his toy box that he’ll never get to finish.
Frank’s vision blurs and he takes a seat on the bed, inhaling sharply at the familiar squeak of the springs. His hand falls onto Frank Jr.’s teddy bear, all dressed up in fatigues, and he brings it close to his chest. He remembers standing in the doorway and watching Frank Jr. throw it on the couch so he can hug his daddy.
He holds the bear tight as he trudges to the end of the hall, the door to the master bedroom still shut tight. Frank doesn’t stop, he knows if he pauses, he’s going to bolt. It’s now or never.
The door creaks open and everything smells like her. He falls to his knees and gasps for air, sobs hitching in his throat as everything comes flooding back.
She’s lying next to him, smiling at him as the sun peeks in through the window, the sunlight draping itself over her skin. There are faint squeals, but she just chuckles and shifts closer for a kiss, humming against his mouth.
He blinks and shadowy tendrils creep in, tearing her away from him, swallowing her up until she’s gone. He can’t make out a whole lot, but he knows the bedroom like the back of his hand.
He staggers toward the dresser, bumping into the corner of the bed on the way. Maria’s voice floats through his head, babe, you know it’s there. He lets out a watery laugh and leans against the wall as he pulls her drawer open, and his heart stops.
There’s his shirt. His brain flickers back to kisses that taste of coffee and a bright smile, that very first morning together, and he can’t breathe. She kept it.
He lifts the shirt up to his nose and inhales deeply. It still smells like her. Frank buries his face in the soft fabric as he cries harder, the reality of everything hitting him with a finality that shatters his heart.
They’re gone.