Work Text:
—
Franky crouched in front of Bea’s grave, the last one lingering, her red rose lying across the engraved picture of her best friend in happier times. The words were still incomprehensible to her: Bea’s grave.
She had to smile a little, picturing the shy redhead who she had given endless shit when she first came to Wentworth.
Surprised us all in the end, didn’t ya? Fuck, Red.
When she felt ready to stand, she headed for the parking lot, stopping to talk with Will for a moment. She feigned nonchalance but felt like breaking into a run and getting off of this grass and onto solid ground. Her eyes sought out the familiar black car and she heard the locks chirp as she approached.
“Hey. Thanks for picking me up, Gidge.”
She managed a watery smile for the blonde, who bought none of it and indicated so, shaking her head with a faint, sad smile of her own. The kind that made Franky feel seen but not scared.
“I’m okay,” Franky insisted, her voice hoarse.
“Baby,” Gidge admonished her lightly. “You’re not okay. Of course you aren’t.”
Franky huffed and shifted in her seat, looking out the window for a long moment, the green of the grass blurring, before she threw her hands up.
“What do you want me to say, Gidge? That it sucks? It sucks! That this is total bullshit? Well it IS! That Red is in a fuckin’ hole in the ground? That I thought that was going to be me? That I fucking miss her? Because I DO! I let her down. I should’ve-“
“Should have what, Franky? What could you have done?”
“I DON’T FUCKIN’ KNOW! SOMETHING!”
Franky slammed her hands hard against the leather dashboard, the sting barely registering. Bridget didn’t flinch and a part of Franky noticed it and was grateful for it.
Her feelings didn’t scare Bridget, no matter how big they became. Not because the blonde didn’t care; in fact, Franky could see pain in her blue eyes right now. Her Gidge, though, would always take care of her first, would know what she needed and give it so freely that it was still breathtaking to her.
“I heard a song while I was waiting. It reminded me of- well, can I play it for you? Please?”
Franky sighed, suddenly exhausted.
“I know what you’re doing, Bridget.”
“You have to feel this. Even though it hurts. I’m sorry, my love. I know sometimes music...”
Franky rubbed her hands over her face.
“Go on, then.”
Bridget tapped her phone and Franky heard a slow song build up, the melody gentle, the man’s voice soft and eerily beautiful. The brunette felt a chill go up her spine.
🎶 Hold my hand, I am afraid
Please pray for me when I am away
Comfort the girl
Help her understand
No memory, no matter how sad
No violence, no matter how bad
Can darken the heart
Or tear it apart 🎶
“Stop! Stop it! Please...” Franky sobbed and Bridget paused the song and opened her arms.
This time the brunette accepted the comfort without hesitation; it wasn’t a choice. The song hit so close to her thoughts, the only thoughts she had been able to have lately. Had Bea been scared? She must have been. To do what she did... Fuck, she was so stubborn.
A sob turned into a laugh as she thought about their many fights over the years. About the ways Bea had protected her. All the shit she took for the women. She was a better Top Dog than Franky had ever been and she’d set her free when she took on the role.
She could laugh about their fight in the laundry room now, though it was one of the few times in her life she had been both terrified and impressed simultaneously. Bea could have easily killed her. Even then, Franky had known that wasn’t what she wanted. Her eyes had been pleading rather than cold as she’d demanded Franky surrender her title. None of them could have imagined the complexity of her plan at that point but it made sense.
Complex was a good word for Red - for her friend. Then, just when things got simpler, when a miracle happened and Allie strutted into her life and brought out this lightness that Franky had never seen before... when Allie freed her from the burden of Top Dog...
Bea never got to live with that lightness. She didn’t get the chance Franky had been given. One she knew she wouldn’t have in the first place if it wasn’t for Red.
She pulled back a little and looked at Gidge, allowing the blonde to wipe her tears away gently with her fingertips. Franky thought about the lyrics to Bridget’s song again.
Comfort the girl...
“Of all the shit I’ve had to do in my life...” she trailed off.
“Tell me, baby,” Bridget encouraged her softly, rubbing the back of her index finger over a sharp cheekbone.
“Nothing. Nothing has ever been as bad as having to tell Allie. When she woke up-“
Franky started crying again and Bridget just nodded and reached for her hands, listening. Always listening.
“‘Bea’. That’s all she said, Gidge. All she wanted. She looked terrible. She almost died. She just needed to know that Bea was safe. Waiting for her. And I. Couldn’t. Even. Give her that,” she gritted out, feeling Bridget’s hand come up to stroke her jaw, relaxing the taut muscles.
“It must have been so hard. But Bea would have wanted you to be the one to tell her,” her voice was warm and liquid, coating the sharpness of Franky’s raw feelings, making her safe.
Bridget didn’t tell her to stop, or that her feelings were wrong or that she wasn’t responsible. She just let her feel, let her cry. Her arms stayed open, her body relaxed, willing to absorb all of Franky’s emotion, eager to if it took the edge off even a tiny bit. Gratitude flared in the brunette’s chest and she listened to the song quietly.
🎶 Take my hand when you are scared
And I will pray if you go back out there
Comfort the man
Help him understand
That no floating sheet, no matter how haunting 🎶
“Gidge? I’ll just... I’ll be right back.”
Franky flung the car door open and booked it over to where Vera and Will were walking, speaking in hushed tones.
“You okay?” Will asked her.
Franky bit down on the inside of her cheek.
“Yeah. You?”
He nodded and she gave him a smile.
“You’re a lousy liar, Jackson.”
“Yeah? Well you’re a pretty good one from what I remember and I can still see you’re full of shit.”
That brought out a dimple and Will laughed but it was far from a sound of amusement. It was downright fuckin’ heartbreaking and Franky winced.
“She’d want me to tell ya... don’t. Don’t beat yourselves up. This isn’t your fault.”
“But it is,” Will said, unable to meet her eyes, looking over her shoulder as he struggled to keep it together.
“Will,” Vera warned him, sounding nervous.
“IT IS, Vera! You know that. I didn’t- we didn’t protect her,” he shook his head and gave up the fight, allowing the tears to come.
Comfort the man...
“She always had a soft spot for you, Jackson.”
He nodded, smiling through his tears, and Vera put a hand on his shoulder. He allowed it, looking over at her as if he had forgotten she was there. He relented and put an arm around her.
“Gidge said the women took it hard,” Franky said quietly, stating the fact but not twisting the knife.
That had Vera fidgeting, clearly uncomfortable. Franky wasn’t sorry.
“Yes. It was a nice memorial but...” the diminutive Governor shook her head.
“She might not have been Top Dog anymore but she was still their Queen Bea,” Franky filled in for her.
“Yes. Exactly.”
The three of them nodded at one another. They cast another look back to Bea and Debbie. It was a gut punch but Franky didn’t let it show.
“Well. We’d better go. Franky, it’s nice to-“
“Wait,” Franky interrupted her.
“Yes?” Vera’s eyebrows quirked up nervously.
“I need to be able to see them. The women. But especially Allie. I want to see her at least once a week. Every day if she needs me. If she calls me, I’m going to show up. And you’re gonna let me see her? Right?”
Comfort the girl...
“Doyle,” the Governor sighed up at her but Franky had her arms folded.
“Fuck that. Don’t ‘Doyle’ me. It’s the least we owe Red.”
“She’s right,” Will agreed.
Vera rolled her eyes.
“We’ll work something out,” she conceded, earning a wicked grin.
“Knew it. Ya always did have the hots for me, Vinegar Tits.”
All three of them laughed, although Vera blushed and rolled her eyes.
“Isn’t Bridget waiting for you?” the petite woman pointed.
Franky looked back towards the lot and the car.
“Yeah. She is.”
Nobody seemed to know what to say and the silence stretched.
“We’ll see you back at Wentworth. As a visitor only, please,” Will joked.
“Count on it,” Franky gave them a genuine smile and stepped back before they could try to hug her.
She couldn’t bear that. Not here. She waved and they watched her go, returning to Bridget.
“Everything okay?”
The blonde’s face was open, not assuming, not guessing, just asking.
“None of this is okay,” Franky whispered.
She pressed play on Bridget’s phone, for some reason feeling as if they needed to finish the song before they could drive away. Before she could leave Bea... again.
🎶 And no secret, no matter how nasty
Can poison your voice
Or keep you from joy 🎶
Bridget took her hand softly and Franky squeezed it, gripping her tighter, hanging on.
Hold my hand, I am afraid
Sometimes, that was all you could do. The tears came intermittently on the drive home but soon enough she was in their bed, holding a sleeping Bridget, wondering where exactly Red was and if she could see them. She hoped so. Either way, she planned on carrying Red with her, wherever she went. She smiled down at the red rose freshly tattooed over her heart.
She woulda fuckin’ hated it, Franky thought, laughing softly in the darkness.
🎶 No violence, no matter how bad
Can darken the heart
Or keep you from joy. 🎶
Bridget woke late in the night, hearing Franky muttering to herself. Bad dream, she thought, reaching for her love.
Comfort the girl...