Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It wasn’t the first time she would die and it wouldn’t be the last.

With lungs coughing up blood and a delicate hand plunged into a gushing wound she rose to her feet , arms swinging at her sides as she spat on the ground the blood trickled down her lips. Meeting his strong gaze.

“Atta girl, getting back up to finish something you just can’t win”

She stifled a groan as her ribcage cracked back into place and the bones healed.

Pain was temporary and very soon only scars would remain, a curse to the blessing she had received.

“Maybe you would be able to kill me if you actually used your hands for once” she muttered. Sucking in a breath as her back snapped into place.

He sauntered forward posture still bruised into him from the military, the gun he held was long forgotten as he chucked it towards the gravelled roof. Thick hands joined, snapping and cracking as he prepared to punch.

“you want me to beat you to death then”

She smiled head rolling to the side as she prepared her stance.

“why too scared not to use your little toys, if i can survive my throat being cut don’t you think i can survive a lil choking”

His face contorted into a snarl “why tryna get off or something ?”

She chuckled, stepping forward and stroking his face meeting his eyes ,” thought you would take me on a date first. “

His reaction was instant grabbing her wrist spinning her around and pinning it to the side, he wrestled her to the edge of the building. Neck hanging on the side of the building as he stepped on her back. Loose notes fell out of her pocket. He chuckled as she groaned into the bricked roof.

“keep the fucking change”she wailed.

“Last words ?“

“Eat shit” her leg swung around , catching his foot and toppling him over. As he fell to the floor she straddled him, placing her hands around his thick neck feeling his pulse, she started to squeeze , feeling him splutter around her. In a last effort his hands rose to grab her face, thumbs dangerously close to her wide eyes for a moment. She froze hers gazing into his.

It was the first time he had ever seen a hint of fear in her eyes, she looked like a deer in headlights.

Now he knew.

Yet he stared back, swinging his body on top of hers while cradling her head, an unfound comfort, cradling the person he was to destroy. Her pulse rose. she didn’t understand the uttermost care of something that would be plummeted into the ground several times to come .

“I fucking hate you“ she gasped, his thumb tracing over the scars left behind from him on her cheeks before it fell tightly to the nape of her neck.

“ I know “ He slammed her head to the ground, blood pulling around her head, “ I hate you too, because you just don’t stay fucking dead”

She grinned in short ugly gasps as the blood filled her mouth. He slammed it again , a stiffening crack rang out , her skull coming away in crimson chunks.

She choked and spluttered “ see you next time frankie” she smiled , her head rose again colliding to the ground once more , her eyes fell dead.

His careful hands meet her head once again. Bloodied fingers tracing over her eyelids and lips
And he rose once again without a purpose.

Four months after her disappearance
He wanted her blood to spill and boil.

Frank's head rested on his damp pillow, he had settled into a cold apartment building a few blocks away from hers and although she wasn't what he was really searching for he still managed to keep an eye out for the person that had haunted his days.

He didn't decorate, but weapons and notebooks had littered the wooden table that was placed in the middle of the room, a carpet dirtied with bloody and muddied foot prints. Food wrappers in an overflowing bin, Frank wasn't taking care of himself.

His bed, made of pallets and sofa cushions, was pushed to a corner, a grey sheet placed and tucked over. A thin pillow tucked into a hoodie as a case and a wolf print blanket to keep the warmth in, he didn't care for comfort in the slightest, often falling asleep in boots and a military grade jacket stashed with knives and other weaponry.

Frank drifted into his slumber, his bones stiffening and his sighs slow. The pain in his head dull.

Maria
and whispers of memories.

His hand is on her face and she giggles, they kiss. The sun shines on her hair , a soft breeze drifts past.

Home ,Comfort,Happiness
“I'll go make breakfast baby , you stay here” she's wearing the dress he likes, the pretty blue floral one. He's smiling , he's happy for once, he can hear the kids laughing downstairs watching cartoons. Maria turns her back to leave but something just isn't right.

Is it her hair ?No , No it's the jagged scars that run parallel down her back from being pulled against iron gates.Her hair shifts and the rough and ragged scar that circles around her neck.

“Maria?”

There's a giggle soft,sweet and deadly. Maria doesn't laugh like that but its not the time to think about another woman when she's standing in front of him.

It's her.

“Frankie” an echo of a ghost.

She turns her mouth gaping open blood pooling out. It dribbles to the floor before soaking into the white of Maria's dress.

Her eyes unblinking and grey as she approaches faster, the blank stare locked in with him.

He can’t stop himself, his hand reaching out to grab the soft cheeks, his thumb running over her bloodied and bruised lips, she continues to smile.

Her eyes fade from the natural hue until they're pale and cold. Salt tears run against her cheeks.

She's even closer now. So is the man in the ski mask and camo behind her.

“Did you miss me ?” a whisper and then a gunshot. Blood splattering against beige sheets, it soaks quickly and he feels the sticky residue. She's limp against his chest once more and the man taunts him.

He cocks his head and stares in return.

He awakes in a cold sweat. The sheet clings to his body and the fresh air from the window hits him, he's cold but unscaved, her eyes still luring him back to bed, another chance to save her but he decides against it. It's a new day and there are more criminals to be disciplined.

He overhears it at a bar and he knows what's next for him.

He finds himself outside the door, a stench of dried blood, and sweat. Enough guns to equip a party of 6.

He wears that black jacket , the long sleeved black shirt, the one with the rip under the hemmed neckline and the cargo pants. His dog chains rattle against his chest.

Floor 7.
Charging into a fight. Arm around throat. Foot shoved into calf. He's down. Gun to head. Bang.

Next, bullets ring out. His finger pulls the trigger 14 more times. Someone comes charging at him. The glock smashes into his head , a crack. His hands get pulled onto Frank's neck , he struggles twisting his body at the right angle to lose him. He smashes his head into the door frame.

Reloads, two shots taken , more men and 13 more bullets get lost in their heads. One more man stood close to the door, not for escape but as protection. Frank chucks the gun on the ground.

“Use your hands for once,Frankie” he smiles and cracks his knuckle.

Charging forward to meet the man. His hand buried deep in his hair, he pulls his head back to crack it against his knee. The man's hand lifted up and scratched deep along his face, he lifted it back once more and knees him in the chest. The man lurches into the ground wincing at the hot pain, Frank kicks his back snarling, his face scraping against the floor. He charges his foot into his head twice, the man lays crumpled against the carpet.

Frank's eyes gaze upon the door handle.

He traces it, if there was someone with a gun in there they would be out already. Escaping into the night or coming out with intent to finish him off.

If there were hostages in there he could open the door and tip the police , threaten them to not talk about him being there, sometimes gangs like these kept bad men trapped , robbers , rapist and murders , tortured into begging for death.

Part of him felt drawn in, to the unknown of what was behind the door. His hand flicked at the door handle, he pushed it open with his boot.

Mouldy walls and the stench of dried blood on carpet, bleach and other cleaning supplies sat in one corner and the other, boxes covered with dust sheets. Numerous tools and knives laid on the floor rusting . A plastic sheet laid across the already stained carpet. Black blood dried onto the sheet. A worn nose hung from the middle of the room. And another door in the room this time with a lock.

Locked for no escape.

He marched over to the cable cutters that rusted in the crimson blood. Picking them up with ease to open the lock. A rustling and a wine from inside. The chain rustled and hit the door before collapsing and colliding with the carpet. He kicked at it. His hands tracing over the latches that held the door shut.

He opened them the metal grinding together, a deep groan coming from the door. His rough hand wrapped round the handle. Turning and swinging the door open wide.

It was a dark closet , at the far back a girl turned to the side exhausted, her hands strung up around the hanger with jagged and itchy rope , stained red, hair unruly and matted. He grabbed a knife from his pocket slicing open the rope from the metal pole.

His hands met the cold of her waist pulling her up to assess damage.Her head hung backwards from exhaustion, he kneeled and set her down carefully. shrugging of his coat, wrapping her up in his coat to keep warmth in, hands running over her face so carefully, she was young.

A knock on the door. His head snapped in that direction. A pair of boots with bruised and scarred knees, a torn white dress bloodied, her hand limp broken and purple , the other captured by hand cuffs.

She leaned against the door frame, his eyes met hers.

“You look like shit Frankie” and that damn smile, like the one in his dream, bruised and bloody,

She collapsed to the ground, his body moved suddenly cradling her head into his chest.Her eyebrows raised.

“Miss me?”

Chapter Text

Death was a dark empty hole , she was swimming in it. It wasn’t black, it was just deep nothingness , calm and serene. Being pulled from it was hell, deep struggling gasps of air , bright white lights , it felt like being pulled under and out of water at the same time. Deep erupting coughs of black clotted blood. A cold heart settling into a heavy beating rhythm. Stiff bones and dried skin.

She topples over the table. Vomiting a sweet metallic concoction of blood and acid, her bones cracked into use. A sweet rotting smell admitted from her body a sweat that clung to her. Her eyes watered and she vomited again , a mellow clumpy yellow, she spits and stands , her knees and back cracking into place , she stretches with ease. A regular occurrence after awakening. After being reborn. Her nose starts to run a bloody red.

She gazes at her surroundings like a reptile, soft and still movements, eyes sharply picking up on anything that could be of use. A shirt, a bottle of rum, a knife and a gun.

She slides the shirt over her head , it drags along the sores on her back, she tucks the gun into her underwear and takes a swig off the alcohol. Eyes boring into the sleeping man in front of her, wasn’t the first time she had been taken home dead.

She wonders if she could end the game here, a bullet to the head. But she’d rather play longer, she runs her hands over his hair. He snores.

She pulls the gun out, fingers grazing over the safety. She lines it up to his head , pushing the gun into his jaw.

Eyes snap open and a hand clutches around the gun flinging it into the other side of the room.his other hand moves towards her jaw, pushing her into the floor his thighs enclosed around hers. She pretends to struggle, her lips pouting, his face remains still.

“Always fail to kill me huh” his hand makes its way to her cheeks pulling her up by the jaw, she’s calm now , eyes glazed over like she’s not really here. He drops her head and it falls back towards the ground.

His hand grazed over her cheek. He pushes her face into the floor, her hands untouched she lay’s still. His face gets closer.

Spitting at her.

She giggles ”if i wanted to kill you , you would be dead”

He grimaces. “wanna know how i’d do it” He pushes against her jaw harder. It makes a sickening crack. She laughs harder, it comes out in corrupted chokes . She pulls out the knife from her sock , wrestling him to the ground.one hand on his wrists, He looks at her in disgust, her jaw slack and drooping. She tries to smile but she winces. She looks up , grabs her jaw and pushes it ,bones grind
against each other and it pops back into place. She smiles again, this time baring her teeth like a cat. The knife runs against his throat but she doesn’t push. He doesn’t falter .

“First I’ll try and suffocate you , like when you drowned me. Then I’d shoot every single joint in your body so you couldn’t move , remember when you shot my knee caps in thinking that would stop me ? and then I’d take a meat cleaver” she’s traces out with the knife “ and cut here” it slides around his neck.

He’s still unscathed, “and here” she pulls up sharply , tracing his nose and lips. Her breath fans onto his lips, his eyes gaze upon hers, her head tilts softly, matted hair falling into his face. She whispers “ i know you wanna kiss me”He snarls at her “you stink” She sighs, hands leaving him behind as she gets off him.“Guess i’ll have a shower then” her hand finds the bottle of gin, hips swinging in the direction of the shower.

He stares at her from behind eyes , tracing the messy scars that litter her body.

Scars from him.
It had been hours and Frank had almost wished she had fallen down the drain while taking a shower, when she came back she was wearing a white tank top and black boxer shorts , the empty bottle swinging in her hand. She pulled on the muddied socks, wet hair sticking to the nape of her neck. Bloodied converse and an oversized flannel shirt she pulled herself to the door. Hand dragging the handle, eyes gazing at him.

“Well frank it’s been a pleasure but i really must leave” He stood shocked, his feet controlling his body as he marched to meet her, hand pushing on the familiar weight of the door , it slammed. She turned big eyes gazing up at him. Her hands rose to meet the collar of his shirt neatening it up.

Her head tilted.“I know, I know you’re gonna miss me. Blah Blah Blah” she laughs it’s almost comical how nonchalant she’s being, as if she’s a girlfriend and hadn’t been sitting in her own filth dead for weeks . His face remains the same , still and robotic.

Her hand meets his face, slapping it lightly and booping his nose. “Well, best be off, see you soon” she waves her hand gripping the handle again and ripping the door open. She slams it and her footsteps echo against the walls of the hallway.

He stand still, facing in the direction she went off on.

fucking bitch , always getting away
He charges after her, heavy boots stomping to meet her. Head tilting like a dog her lips pout.

She already knew. His hand grabs her arm pulling her towards the door. Her feet faltering behind his.

Chapter Text

There's a bitter iron taste in her mouth but she doesn't spit , she swallows back the taste of blood. It leaks out the gaps of her mouth and it starts to run down her pretty blue dress marking it in blotch black and red blemishes. She smiles, teeth stained red. Her foot kicks out forward into the man standing in front. He flies back, her fists coming up as he approaches again , dodging the hit. She's behind him now and she kicks his back knocking him to the floor she grabs his head and it flies into the floor , she smashes it in again until the grit has caught into his cheeks and she can see the skull under the blood left out onto the floor.

She's a weapon, something uncontrollable. And Frank knows this , he sees the rampage of built up anger that is let loose within her . He wants to stop her , he needs to stop her. There is an uncontrollable compulsion in his head that would take her throat and squeeze until she would stop talking his head off. But for now she roams loose, taking out men far and wide. Her regeneration is quicker and more purposeful every-time. He's been keeping track ever since their last interaction there was an evil in her eye that was unseen.

There was potency in his objective and she could see it. The watching. He wouldn't intervene.

He followed her back to the apartment that day, she gathered her stuff up; dresses, knives, a collection of pill bottles that overflowed her bathroom counter, wads of cash. He remembers asking about them.

She simply replied that he'd be in pain if he woke up after his body was torn back together again. She kept weed and other drugs in her apartment, though he rid her of the white powder as she rolled a joint babbling about how recreational marijuana isn't actually bad for you , and how when she feels light headed it actually calms her down.

Honestly he wishes she was high all the time, she was most compliant with a joint in her hand and quiet too. Giggling off in a corner about random shit she would see on the road.

He noticed how her legs would fold up around her in the truck, how the cardigans she wore wouldn't have a fleck or stain on them, how her dirtied boots couldn't touch her dresses. At motels she swallowed down pills with whisky and fell asleep soon after. She looked peaceful.

The first time she swallowed those pills he almost thought she had died, unmoving, mouth open wide until the nightmares had come. The shudders, the whispers, the screaming and the tears. Waking up every time in his arms fighting him , kicking and screaming until she finally calmed down enough to smoke something because she didn't dream when she smoked weed, she never could.

She would roll them up in the car, frank muttering something about the smell as she licked the paper and rolled it tightly. Dusting the crumbs into the foot rest.

He stopped killing her after that, didn't have the heart after she told him the pain she had gone through, the medical experiments , why she started killing the doctors, why the business men ended up gutted in an office building. How she ended up at the traffickers place with a broken hand and a gunshot to the head.

She wasn't so annoying after that either, she babbled because she could , because she had the freedom too now. He listened in silence, catching himself nodding along to meaningless shit she would say.

And that's how she ended up at the warehouse with him in the sidelines only intervening when necessary.

------------

She gets up finally spitting the blood that gushes out her mouth. He watches holding her knit jumper as she slips up her hair into a messy ponytail , snatching the key card from the man's back pocket and glancing at Frank, her chin is itchy and she wipes the blood up her face to stop the drips from further intervening in her dispute.

Frank nods at her, and she smiles sweetly the bruises around her neck already fading from a purple into a yellow.

“This what you need huh? “ She pulls out a joint and an old silver lighter. The end lighting up quickly, he watches the embers fall to the ground as she breathes in the drug, her eyes half closed in a couple of minutes. Smoke disperses to the ceiling in clouds. And he sees her demeanour fall into calmness.

He palms the card from her soft hands, shoving it into his pocket as they start to walk away from the building. She discards the joint before getting into his truck, an undiscussed rule.

Pulling out baby wipes, he watches her movements in the mirror, wiping the blood that stains her face in the mirror , she almost looks pretty
She pulls off the dress she's wearing and he averts his eyes. Pulling on denim shorts over her boots. She's taken to wearing his long sleeve shirts now , they cover her palms and she pulls them into her chest as she sleeps. She fiddles with her hair undecided if she likes it up or down.

They start to drive and she clumsily presses the radio station before slumping into her seat, his eyes gaze across at her as the acoustic guitar rings out the chords.

“I used to play guitar once,” she mutters.

He's surprised that she had any hobbies other than talking his ear off.

“Really” he drivels, uninterested.

“I begged my dad for lessons for a whole year , on Christmas he bought me this shiny second hand pink fender, i was so excited i would stay in my room after school and play it all night, i wanted to be in a band, like riot girl or something but never got to because well you know’

“What music did you listen to?”

“Same sorta stuff my dad liked, Guns and roses n Metallica that was a big one, i liked nirvana too and Courtney loves band. Fuck, whats their name?”

“Hole?” he questions back. Hand sliding down the steering wheel as the turned

She leans against the seat foot tucked up next to her. Nodding “Yes! Hole, I liked that song ‘celebrity skin‘, I would play it over and over again trying to get the chords right.” she giggles “dad prolly got sick of me playing it over and over again”

Her hand rests on her thigh, smoothing down on her skin, she's anxious? No.Insecure.

He takes a peak of what she's trying to cover up and notices the thick long scar that covers her thigh.

“Shit, sorry” it's quiet and she almost can't hear him.

“Huh? She’s inquisitive now and Frank doesn't just apologise for nothing.

“About the scars, shit, marked you up with some pretty nasty ones didn't i?”

Her hand traces around her neck.

“It's fine” she trails off her face is silent” i thought about getting covered in tattoos but i tried that , heal so quickly and the ink just fades so quick” she pulls up her top exposing her torso to the green mark that sits above her hip, “ it was supposed to be a heart i dunno if you can really see it ? should go in a month though i suppose “ he pulls over at the motel hand gripping the steering wheel as he takes a look, his eyebrows touching trying to make out in god's name what the hell is imprinted on her skin.

“Looks like a bruise to me” he turns his head “wait a sec, yeah i see it” it’s quite obviously a lie the ink so dispersed it kinda resembles a pumpkin.

She pulls her top back down and hops out the van, Frank pulls out a key.

“Pack up right ? we need to leave as soon as possible”

She nods her head in agreement.

—--------

“Look kid , I need to know why they're after you” Frank stands in front of the girl, Racheal? His eyes are stern, crossed arms and a cold demeanour. She wondered when she was gonna see Frank like this again all tough with a hard shell. Seeing it from a different angle didn't look so scary, almost because she knew after this he would swallow down a burning hot coffee and sit outside with her as she smoked a joint before bed.

“ i don't know why they're chasing me, wrong time wrong place”

“ Look kid, I've got enough on my plate, shit, it’s hard enough looking after her making sure she doesn't run off and cause havoc.” She looks up, eyes half gazed, not really paying attention, she looks over at Rachael?

“but at least I know who's after her. You, however? don't know shit”

“Someone after your deranged druggie girlfriend? Wow that's a surprise”

She stands up smoothing her hair down, giving Frank the look, he nods back allowing her to go ahead.

She starts to pull off her cardigan leaving her in a small floral tank top, turning round and moving her hair to the side.

She can see all the scars now, the ones that resemble growing ivy that trail over her neck.

“You see these scars kid?” she turns, grabbing a knife from her pocket and sliding it down her upper arm, it catches beads of blood drawing it stops as she lets Rachael watch her skin knit back together.

“People like the ones after you did this shit to me, now i’m fucking lucky that i can’t die, but you can, so you tell me who’s after you or you’ll end up with a bullet hole between your eyes”

Racheal rolls her eyes “ look i don’t know who’s after me, please can i just go i promise i won't tell anyone i swear”

She pauses now pulling her cardigan back on as Frank stares at her. She sighs grabbing the joint from her rolling tray, frank follows her out with a coffee in hand.

“She’s fucking crazy you know?” she shouts. He slams the door behind him.

Chapter Text

They sit out on the pavement. Frank leans his arms on his knees, she's tucked up beside him thighs up against her chest smoke clouding around her.

“Scaring her didn't work, what are we gonna do now? “ she turns to him as he sips the coffee.

She flicks the ash to the side of her. Running fingers through the knots of her hair.

“Am I really deranged?” she mutters hurt. Frank looks at her.

“Com’on ur asking the man who’s gunned down hundred of men on his own free will, yeah you're crazy maybe in a good way”

“Awe in a good way huh” she jabs his side and he smirks, pulling his bottom lip into his mouth. He looks away silently.

“So are we gonna share a bed or are you gonna sleep on the floor…?”

—----

They lie separately, franks body straight as she curls into the wall her hands tucked into her chest as if she’s cradling herself, she's already asleep and frank lies awake restless, he's already tried not moving for minutes , then trying to tenses his body into relaxations but her still can't keep the thought of what ‘Rachael?’ said in his head “deranged druggie girlfriend”

He’s hooked on “girlfriend” . He wishes he was appalled, he hated her so much months ago , there was an un needing urge to kill and destroy, but now he feels empty?

There's something about her that draws him in, she looks innocent but deadly to touch.

She is the epitome of ‘look like the innocent flower, but be the serpent under it’ yet her venom draws him in, her struggles, the smiles while she fights , how the flirty comments made him feel all those months ago.

He struggles to find the words, he is drawn to her. She still hasn't uttered a word about that day, the one when he pulled her into his apartment and it plagues his mind in his restless stirring.

4 months ago
He stands still, facing in the direction she went off.
fucking bitch , always getting away.
He charges after her, heavy boots stomping to meet her. Head tilting like a dog her lips pouting.
She already knew. His hand grabs her arm pulling her towards the door. Her feet faltered behind his.
The door closes sharply once more and her body is slammed against the heavy metal door. He closes in like a predator watching his prey, her doe eyes faltering now half shut as her eyes meet his. Her face is cold and she looks like a siren, pulling his energy towards her.
“ So shy now” he smirks looking away and looking back into her eyes “ always flirting but now your pinned to a door you can't mutter a word,Like a fucking dog , all bark and no bite”
She smiles, his hand in a bruising grip on her waist, his face pressed against hers.he smells death, still stained into her skin and his body wash . One hand wraps around her wrists into a seizing grip, the other pulls itself from her waist to meet her neck pulling her shin up to get a better look at her face.
“Are you gonna kiss me or kill me Frankie because i can’t keep going on like this” her lips are pursed questioning his motives of ripping her away from her escape.
He hinders before driving his lips upon hers, their chapped and he tastes the burning whisky that marks her lips. They move together quickly and her legs wrap around his waist, his thick hands moving to cup her ass before moving her over to the wooden table he gropes her body slowly before she pauses, breaking away.
She hears it before him.
He tries to meet her lips again but her hand is placed firmly on his chest, he feels hurt? ruined?
There's a plummeting knock at the door that stops her trance. Frank's clouded eyes pull away from hers and they join at the door.
“Expecting anyone?”
He shakes his head. And the panic begins.
“Think it's best we leave then”
Her heart's racing and begins to question everything over the last few months flirting with the comments and the brutal killing.
------

She awakes groggy in the morning, her legs half of the bed as Frank stretches wide. She pulls on shoes and a jacket. Sliding a cigarette between her teeth, before slipping out the door with some change , she wanders out to the vending machine, settling for a coke and a granola breakfast bar . Her cigarette is lit and by the time she's back franks leaning against the window with two steaming cups of coffee he hands her one, its creamy and sugary just how she takes it , she drops to the pavement and he follows suit.

“How are we gonna deal with her then?”

“Think i need Madani to help out , get her someone safe and go after them”

She nods in agreement sipping on the coffee.

“So we packin’ up today?”

He nods.

“Thinks she's gonna come willingly?”

“She better be if she thinks she gonna come back alive”

—---

The journey from Chicago to New York was long winded, Frank split it up to 6 hours on the road each day, she was groggy and tired constantly, Racheal or Amy as she told them, muttered on about letting her go at every stop they passed by, she was stuck in the middle of them “frank almost thought about putting her in the boot, but the hours passed quickly when she had her headphones in.

Madani’s home was nice, actually it was perfect; a plush sofa to lay on, the fridge full of amazing food and her wardrobe was fucking huge she could stay here forever. In Fact she wasn't the only one completely comfortable in her house, when she and Frank had come home, the apartment was a mess , take out boxes and random packages laid everywhere, she sat on her brand new purple laptop, it wasn't hard to figure out that Amy had taken her card. She had given Frank a whole bag of clothing and now sat on the kitchen counter wolfing down a slice of pizza.

“Got something for you too” she passes the bag to her. There's a bow at the top and the item is covered in pink paper to hide the contents. There's three items in the bag, the first is a pair of black cargo trousers totally not her style but she figured she could wear them for fighting allowing her dresses to stop getting so dirty, the next a pink babydoll dress, its vintage she can tell by the smell and the small rips in the mesh overlay that covers the dress , but it's beautiful. And lastly its a small flip phone with a stupid little charm on it.

“Thought you might want a phone to call Frank on,” Amy mutters, and she ruffles her hair.

Amy rolls her eyes. She walks over to Frank, the new clothing discarded on the floor.

“Hey” she smiles, pulling her hair behind her ear and leaning over the counter in a flirtatious manner.

“Saw you across the room and thought you looked hot, can I get your number?” she passes the phone to him and winks, he looks away (almost embarrassed by her display). Taking her phone from her and entering the digits, he passes it back quickly and goes back to eating his pizza.

She holds the phone in her hand and whispers ”call me” before making a phone gesture with her hand. He scoffs to himself.

“Get a room” Amy snarks

she smiles as she walks out to the room.

She showers quickly, and pulls on the new cargos, franks shirt and a belt loading up her pockets with knives and her new phone.

They fit nicely and she almost stares at herself in the mirror to make sure it's herself or she's seeing, she looks different. Her eyes don't seem to dark anymore and she notices her skin free of any new scars. It’s nice to not run from a man who wants to kill her anymore.

“Whad’ya think Frank”, he stops and stares, quirking an eyebrow.

“Yeah nice, still don't know why ur stealing my tops though” she shrugs before sitting down on the couch her head falls backwards and she looks at frank upside down ,pinning him down with an elicit stare.

He stares, his head back and neck exposed. She looks at him clearly now, his face drawn out in red marks and bruises, she thinks it looks hot in a way all beat up fighting for a cause that's not his own, all for her it's cute. Actually it's quite romantic. He's wearing those beat up blue jeans he's owned since she's known him, knees still unripped. If you looked closely you could almost make out the patches of blood he spilled from her at the ankles.

“What are you looking for?”

“Still haven't washed away my blood huh? What time was that from?”

“Hang on, Franks killed you?” Amy looks surprised, her gaze breaking away from whatever she was looking for on her laptop.

“yeah , made a mean job of it too, slammed my back into some sharp fence, think i died from choking on my blood or whatever?” She sighs like it's not that big of a deal, like he spilled wine on her dress at a party or accidentally served her food with a hair in it.

“Still angry about that huh doll?” he snarked back. There it is, the first sign of affection.

She pauses her body, turning to meet his eyes dripping with venom.”I think it was in the top ten most painful ways to die” she declared snidely.

“What was the first?” Amy asked intrigued, her legs swinging over the couch turning her body, hair falling against her shoulder as she shirts the laptop and discards it next to her.

“Oh, um it’s kinda stupid. But i was incredibly drunk, prolly on some kinda pill or something, i got into a bar fight with this dude (he was way to handsy for my liking )” her hands emote “and god was i stupid. I bit into this pint glass to try and scare him off, i was chewing it and everything blood was like running down my chin , it was everywhere-”

“Did it work?” Amy interrupts abruptly.

She pulls her knees up to her chest “Well yeah , until I slipped over some blood before I could spit and the glass ended up in my neck, swallowed it too, woke up in a morgue right before they were gonna drain my body, gave the Mortician a fright he fainted and everything , trekked back half naked that day.”she reminisces.

“You're telling me out of all the ways you've been killed the worst one was your stupidity?”

“Yeah pretty much,” she shrugs, her frame leaving the couch to pour herself some cheap wine she gazes over to him, he’s almost intrigued ”Frank kinda got inventive after the bullets stopped working but not enough i guess” her nose snares creating those bunny lines.

She takes a sip from her glass, eyes locking in on his.

“Think i can do better than that,” he remarks, his voice deep and still.

“Is that a challenge? Because i'm not planning on dying again from you for at least another week”

“a week? What's gonna happen in a week?” he questions confused by her statement

“it’ll be my all time record from not dying by your hand, 4 months next week” she creates a fist with her hand and punches the air a few times “ your too soft now anyway, kept my rotting body in ur apartment for a weeks just because you missed me” her head quirks to the side challenging him.

“He kept ur body in his apartment for weeks, why?”

“Yeah, Frank, why? Some kinda necrophiliac?”

“ wanted answers from you, bout how you go in that traffickers place, why ur always running, figured you couldn't escape from me if u woke up from the dead” he plays with his coffee cup, the steam rising its freshly brewed, some fancy shit from a local coffee shop or something. “ first thing u did was try ‘n kill me though, rose from the dead with vengeance, all flirty like some degenerate, wont stop either”

Her eyes narrow in on him like a fox, Amy's back to her laptop again and she plays with the rim of her wine glass with the tip of her finger.

“You're the one that kissed me if i'm not mistaken.”

He's quiet now and his eyes are un-breaking, she finally mentioned it after months on the road together.

“well? you asked me too” he whispers, it's a careful concoction of words enough to invoke a reaction

Hook, line and sinker.

Her cheeks flush at the comment, she bites her tongue ”saying you wouldn't do it again?” She smirks, cheeks still hot.

“I'm just saying next time I do, you won’t have been lying in ur filth for weeks on my table,” he snarls at her ,his top lip quirks.

“Next time huh ?” she winks. “Well I'm hungry, food ? drinks?”

He nods.

“you’ve kissed?” Amy shouts

Chapter Text

She wanted to burn the image into her head. There was something about Frank today, whether it was the way he handled his guns or how he was sitting , legs spread hand on thighs giving her that look. The kind that says come here and see what happens.

But now he stood, his face covered in blood from smashing someone's face into a window, she admires his hands and the veins that followed on to his arms as his face snarled and settled after every man came forward. How she felt hot and bothered .

He notices

How she dazed behind him following him like a lost puppy.

She was entranced.

She played with her lips in the car ride to the caravan. It was dark now and not many cars had passed them on the motorway. ( a good thing for the both of them covered in blood)

She sat in her bra and some small black shorts. Her socks pulled up to her calf. Something about being too inchy drenched in blood and it was true. It had soaked through her shirt, after slicing someone's throat who had got her to the floor.

Frank couldn't keep his damn eyes off her so entrapped by her beauty. How she could sit there all bloody and a mess and look better than those on the cover of vogue or some shitty website.

Her hair was drenched in blood and had started to knot together in curly tangles; it stained dark. Frank had to adjust himself in his seat every couple of minutes too stiff for his own good. Seeing her play with her damn lips was already too much, and sitting there with her fucking chest out all for the world to see was sending him into over drive.

She could feel his gaze upon her bare skin yet she continued to play with her lips, stained with blood, biting down on them every so often, scraping her hair out the way and playing with the hem of her shorts.

Her eyes were on the road as she noticed the sudden change, in the direction of the caravan, they were suddenly pulling into a motel, she looked confused turning to frank to grab his attention but instead he slipped out the transit and slammed the door she watched him converse and throw money at the owner, being handed a key before charging towards where she was sitting. He pulled the door open, slinging his bag over his shoulder and grabbing her arm in a seizing grip.

She went willingly, too withdrawn to understand the causes of her actions.

He was quick and hurried to the door, she watched the door open and was suddenly rushed in, she hit the wall behind her as frank grabbed her cheeks harshly, her lips puckering at the movement.

“ You’re just a fucking tease aren’t you?”

She gasps, still and motionless. The grip bruised her cheeks.Her eyes flicker at him and his lips. He forces his lips on her own and she purrs in pleasure, moving in sync with his.

Her hand presses up against his chest running down the hard muscles that lay beneath his shirt to his jeans. She pulls him in closer by the belt, her own hips hitting his crotch feeling him harden above her.

When he pulls away his lips are bruised stained red with blood.

They kiss in silence , only moans and the movement of clothing interrupting. His hand trails down to the side of her neck. The side of his palm resting on her collarbone gripping her neck until she gasps for air, her lips parting for him he slips his tongue in her mouth and it grazes her teeth tasting her spit. Until he bites into her lip harshly, kissing the blood that dribbles down her chin.

He slips his knife out and it runs down her stomach, it's numbingly cold and it bites into her skin. He lets it catch into the front of her bra slicing through the lace and silk stained crimson . It lays forgotten on the floor.

She's on display for him now. Pinned into the wall and observed like a butterfly, hHer breath rising as he kisses and licks a trail down to her tits, the spit and blood mixing together, she feels it run and he sucks it up, his hand grasping at her chin pulling her jaw down before spitting it into her mouth.

“Swallow” and she does, her lips taste like a penny, metallic and bitter, following his every instruction.

“Good girl” he mutters, his lips back to their nibbling and biting of her skin, he wishes he could leave a mark. Instead he bites hard enough to draw blood, licking it up and swallowing it down. She whimpers against him, breath rushed and irregular. His hands grope bruisingly against her waist, the knife digging against her left side scratching as she moves. Her hand runs through his hair pulling his head back to look at him. Eyes half closed they delve into another kiss.

Rough and rushed , teeth grazing and clashing, it's quick and she feels like her heart is gonna stop at any moment.

She is in the palm of his hand waiting to be crushed. Warped around his little finger at his desire.

He pulls her body towards the bed. She lays on her back, her elbows holding her up to watch his next move, her lips are parted and he grips her thighs harshly with his big hands, they feel cold against her heated thighs and he can almost distinctly hear the way her heart thumps against her ribcage in excitement.

He grips the waistband of her shorts and her panties , running them down her legs in a hurry.

Gazing upon her pussy, she's bare and spread for him and he half heartedly runs the cold metal down her chest , it reaches her hips and he looks up at her. Eyes glazed and throat on display. She produces little gasps .

The knife reaches her pussy and he flattens it against her folds, the coolness of the metal numbing against the throbbing heat.

“Havent even touched you yet and ur fucking dripping” she whimpers at the loss of touch from the knife.His fingers trace the blood from her throat.

“Open”

Her lips part and he jams his finger inside her mouth, she coats it with her spit and blood.

He traces through her folds before plummeting inside her. She's tight and warm and he sets a steady pace as his thumb catches onto her clit, rubbing it in tight circles. Watching as they disappear inside of her. His cock hardens.

“Shit so fucking dirty, huh? Letting me fuck you with his blood” she gushes around his fingers and he feels her pussy clench around them. She whimpers and shakes as her orgasm hits her.

“Want you, want your cock frankie” she runs her hand down his shoulders.

And he grins, biting down on his lip alluringly.

He watches her body as she moves up on the bed slowly, hissing as her head hits the bed frame.

She pulls her sock clad feet under her, kneeling on the bed as he clabers on top.

She pulls at his shirt and he discards it to the floor as she undoes his belt tentatively. He pulls his jeans off. She marvels at the bulge in his boxers running her hands over it. Grasping at the elastic she pulls. Gaping at him.

“Turn around”she does as he says.

Her hands gripping at the wooden headboard, his own running down her back slowly.

“Waited so long for this” he mutters, the head of his cock gathering the wetness at her folds, he plunges in quickly and she can almost feel him in her throat he's so deep, her mouth gaping wide. She feels him moulding her pussy to fit only his cock. It's like she is being split open,the pain burns.

The hand that bears the knife grips her waist and he uses his other hand to pull her knotted hair until her back arches to hit his chest. She ruts against him begging for movement but he doesn't falter, the knife presses into her throat.

“Dont fucking move” he gropes her chest roughly, his head slumping against her neck to bite. Liking at the blood he draws every time.

She waits patiently as the knife presses harshly against her throat. He runs her hand up against her chest. Hand’s capture her cheeks in another bruising grip. Pulling her head to meet his lips, sharp teeth knicking her lips. He starts to move deep and harsh , hitting the spot just right.

“Playing with your lip in the car, looking like a slut with another man's blood all over you, bet you were waiting for this huh, to let me split you open with my cock”

“Fuck” she moans sweetly “don’t fucking stop”

“Say it” he grunts into her ear “say you’re a fucking whore”

“Just for you” she cries “ your- your fucking whore”

He ruts into her and her head sinks into the knife. It catches against her throat quickly just deep enough for the blood to start spraying. He drops the knife instantly. Her eyes widen in panic, stinging as the tears start to fall down her hot cheeks.

She whines loudly as he stops.

“Move or I swear to god I'll put a bullet in your head”she groans.

Grasping at her slippery neck, the blood runs between the cracks of his fingers. Franks cock continues to dive into her pussy at a harsh pace.

The pain and pleasure is unbearable and she feels faint heart rate slowing . Slumping against his chest as she begins to seize up. She splutters and chokes, he kisses the blood that runs down her bruised lips, pressing into them tightly as she struggles to breathe. Her hand grasps around her neck feeling the burning hot pain as well as the blood that gushes out.

She feels it running down her chest and it soaks into the sheets underneath them.

“So pretty for me”

Her eyes soften as a wave of pleasure hits her. He feels the odd sensation of her skin starting to knit back together the blood coming to a stand still. Hand loosening against her neck. Her hand gathers at the blood pulling it down to play with herself. His hot chest pressing against her hard. He feels her tighten and groans as he gets closer. Indulging himself at a faster pace.

“Atta girl, cum, please fucking come for me”

She's in overdrive and lets out a shaky whine as she cums, he follows behind her. His thick ropes coating her insides. He pulls out of her as she falls against the bed frame. Letting go of her neck.

Her knees weaken. ass falling into the puddle of blood. His cum coating her thighs and she lies against the ruined mattress to catch her breath.

Her hands running down the sides of her body, coated in blood, spit and cum.

She blinks up at him, a picture burning into her brain. He pants, blood congealing around his throat.

“You okay?”

She nods silently, her hand reaching out to grasp his own against his thick thighs, still not yet recovered.

He holds her up in the shower, running a soapy flannel over her stained and ruined body. She crumbles into his touch. The soap foams a bright pink, mixing into the deep crimson on the water before running down the drain.

He wraps a soft towel over her shoulders and holds her tightly.

“Such a good girl for me”

She almost grins into his chest.

He lets her smoke in the motel room that night, too tired to care about the stained sheets that lie crumpled on the floor or the smell of skunk. She sinks into his chest too, pulling her own naked chest against his.

His arms grasp her waist, and he kisses her forehead. As she slumbers off into a deep sleep.