Cold floor tiles. 

I feel real here. Solid.  Alive in this place where I sat down and eventually laid back to look up at the single lightbulb glowing above.  I’ve been staring at it so long that when I close my eyes, I can see the yellow-white shape of it behind my eye lids.  I should be sleeping, but sleep doesn’t come so easy anymore.  I can’t remember the last time I slept through a whole night without waking to check on something, or to a sound that wasn’t there.

I tell myself I should get up, but there’s this other voice, the voice asking why.  It’s hard not to remember the green room in moments like this, to imagine I never left that room, that I’m still waiting for death to come.  That all of this … becoming a Don, the Ivory Tower, and Tony being alive was all some sort of fever dream brought on by head trauma and lack of oxygen.

I sometimes think about drinking, or drugs, to numb the pain the way Sullivan did… or how Francesco seems to be doing now to kill whatever ghosts followed him here to the United States; but I can’t.  The weight of it all – those lives, the lives of the people in the community, the responsibility of it all is just too much to put aside for my own self-indulgence.  In short – I don’t have time to wallow or the pleasure of being irresponsible with my mind or my body. 

I brought it on myself.

The inability to forget for a while, the burdens of leadership, I asked for this so many times that I simply didn’t know how to do anything else.  This, the pursuit of becoming a Don, had become all I was… and now, there literally was nothing left.  When the day ends, when business is done and the other go out to celebrate and enjoy the spoils of their work, I come back here to wait.  Not rest, or sleep, or relax… but wait for it all to begin again in a few hours. 

Get up, shower, choke down the same breakfast and coffee – dress and let the men drive me to the Tower.  Work.  Choke down lunch.  Smile.  I must remember to smile.  Smile when they come to see me, smile when giving orders, smile when I call Dons and Godfathers across the USA, and smile even when I think they aren’t looking… just in case.  Choke down dinner.  Work late.  Always have an excuse, always do more than is needed, because if I don’t I’m just going to come back here and sit alone, waiting to do it again.

I let out a shuddering sigh, it’s not a sob, there aren’t tears lately just a hollow ache that never seems to go away.  The constant sense that something is missing.  Walking into a room expecting someone to be there who should be… who isn’t.  I’m not sure even drugs or alcohol would make it go away, that feeling that comes upon me a heartbeat after I see or think something that I just can’t wait to tell him, when I realize he’s not there.  It’s as if I’ve been told for the first time all over again.

Sometimes I sit there, staring at his suit, just hanging there.  Minutes pass and it’s like I’m waiting for some sign that he’s still around that never comes.  I feel pathetic after.  I get angry.  I’m angry a lot more than anyone knows – what with all the smiling.  The truth is I want to hurt people as bad as I hurt.  I want to do terrible things to people, so they have some small taste of what I feel… alone.  Empty. 

The light keeps shining above me.  I wonder if it’s burning my eyes, if I stare long enough, will I go blind?  I focus on the cold tiles.  I feel myself laying inside my skin as if it were a shell I’m sealed within instead of part of me.  I want to shed it, like a snake, and fly like a bird up and out the window – over the city and far away to something that excites me again.  I want to laugh.  Not a chuckle, but a REAL laugh that I can feel in my pit.  I want the sort of feeling that reminds me why I am getting off this damn floor today will be any different than yesterday – that today is different than yesterday.  Maybe not better, but different. 

God, give me something different...

I could take a lover.  Fill my bed and my body with some other man… a woman… many men and many women – why should I limit myself?  Who would tell me no?  Who would judge me?  God has already judged, so why fear that?  I’m a Don!  This place, it’s people, they belong to me – why should I care what anyone would think?

I try to imagine what that would be like, making love to someone other than the only man I’ve ever let touch me, and there is nothing.  Not revulsion.  Not horror or disgust.  Just that same hollow emptiness that brought me down to the tiles.  It wouldn’t matter anymore than the drugs or drink – it would change nothing.  Meaningless sex.  Meaningless celibacy.  All of it, meaningless.

Get up.  Go to bed.  No one fucking cares.  Who are you doing this for? 

I try to answer my own question, but the only thing I come back to leaves me unmoved.

Who would I be getting up for?

Tony?  I try to tell myself Tony wouldn’t want this – that he’d yell at me, tell me how stupid I was being; but all of it is false and self-serving, just like the choice between getting up or staying put.  The only one it affects is me.

At least the cold and the bright circles behind my eyes are something to feel.

I wait.  I draw a deep breath, fill my lungs to bursting and I hold it there as if I might float away.  I open my eyes; the light remains and beyond it near to the ceiling is a small window.  On the ledge I can see something there.  A dark shape and this difference, this … something… causes me to blink away the bright circles and focus.  I tilt my head ever so, trying to banish the echoes of the light away and see what is moving outside the glass.

The small dark shape slowly becomes clear.  The distant street lights illuminate it just enough to make out a black bird – too large to be a song bird.  A crow?  I push myself up on my elbows and sure enough, a crow is looking in through the smallest window of my house, watching me on the bathroom floor.  I’d never seen such a strange thing before, certainly not in the middle of the night.  We regard each other for a time, I and my avian visitor, but neither of us speak.  The bird isn’t a trick of my mind.  Just something odd, something different.  I force a smile. 

“Well…”  My voice is harsh from not having been used in hours.  “Hello.”

The small window explodes inward in a shower of frosted glass, feathers and bullets.  Bits of drywall and tile cloud the air and make it hard to breathe as I scramble for the bathroom door and lock it, pressing myself hard against it.  Out there, where I can hear screams and gunfire, I know there are windows and whoever was on the street assaulting the house would have a far better chance of hitting me than they did in here.  The bathroom, ironically, was the one nearly untouchable location on the front side of the house. 

The beautiful little house I’d bought to start a family in was being shred to bits by Thompson fire and The Lord alone knows what else!  I pull my knees tight to my chest, hugged my legs and putting down my head; becoming as small of a target as humanly possible.  The gunfire seems to go on endlessly and when it finally ends, I expect to hear someone come to the door, someone to check on me… but all I hear now is flames and distant sirens. 

I look up to what remains of the window.  If the bird lived, his body wasn’t there.  I grab the sink and pull myself up, catching a glimpse of my disheveled half-dressed self in the broken bits of the medicine cabinet mirror.  Dust, and bits of debris liter my black hair and my skins more pale than normal.  I’ve survived, but even as I pull open the door I know what I’m going to see.

I walk careful through the rubble to find my shoes and a jacket, avoiding the bodies and the flames from a Molotov that was thrown through the window.  The house was a total loss… and so was the last of Tony’s men who had been left here to protect me, it’s only now that I recall that I gave Carmine and my men the night off.  A true bit of luck in a shitty situation.

I get my gun, rather calmly, all things considered… the emptiness in this moment is a strange boon.  Even as my heart races, I can’t make myself be upset about the loss.  In a way, it’s a relief.  I can hear the sirens getting closer.  They’ll be here soon.  This was no place to be when they got here.  All they would do is ask me questions I don’t want to answer, try to use it as a chance to pin something on me, when I’m the victim.

Victim… indeed.

I smile and weirdly, I mean it.

The fire is spreading.  Soon it will consume the whole house.  I think about trying to save something… maybe a picture?  Maybe some clothes?  My eyes scan the room, my closet, the bed we use to share; I watch numbly as the fire comes closer to it all, without any visceral reaction. 

It’s done.  I guess I got what I wanted.

Pulling my coat closed over my slip, I head out the door and quickly down the street.  The cold is everywhere out here.  I feel it all over my body.  Goosebumps cover every inch of me and I realize … I can feel.  I can feel it all.

Maybe it worked?

Spotting a phone booth, I step inside and began dialing numbers for members of the crew; hoping someone would be home and pick up.

Sullivan rolled over and looked at Matty laying next to him. He couldn't help but smile. It was a wonderful night, and she had been more than he could have asked for...Or handle really. Jackie had been a lot of things, but Matty put her to shame in a single night. Maybe it had been the built up tension between the two that had made the night's release as climactic as it had been. He leaned over and was just about to kiss her as the phone rang.

With a sigh he hung his head and rolled back the other direction, his feet falling off the bed and landing on the floor as he sat up to answer the call.

"Black residence, better be fuckin' wor-... Frankie? What? Slow the fuck down, what happened and where are you?"

He reached back and smacked the fuck out of Matty's leg as he covered the receiver with his other hand.

"Wake the fuck up Matty, it's Frankie..."

He turned back away and listened to the other end of the conversation...

Sully's hand landed with a solid 'floof' amides feathers and fluff, the down comforter enveloping his wrist in a warm emptiness. Matty was a light sleeper. She stirred at the phone, but was up and moving like a lightning bolt the minute Frankie's name had left his lips. No one called at this hour unless it was bad, and more so for the Doña. ...and more so given his grave tone. 

Scurrying toward the hallway, she followed the trail of abandoned garments picking things up here and there... tossing others at Sully as she went along. Stockings, check. Brassier, check. Where'd he toss her panties?? Boxers sailed toward the bed. Screw the pearls. She kicked them lightly to one side. Slacks. Dress, check. Dress shirt. One pump. Sully's shoes... all neatly laid by the door (prissy bastard). Where the FUCK was her left shoe? 

Matty grumbled tiredly as she pulled on what clothes she could find. Sneaking into the closet, she ferretted out a pair of Jackie's old heels. The slick black leather and striking crimson soles didn't match the rest of her attire... AT ALL... but that didn't really matter now. She still couldn't find her undergarments. But there was NO WAY she was borrowing any of those. She was SURE Sully still had at least one pair hidden around somewhere... but that was just FAR too weird for Matty's tastes. Commando would have to do. It was an emergency, after all. 

By the time Sully was finished with the call, Matty had everything ready to go: keys to the Jonkheere in one hand, his shoes the other, and his signature suit jacket draped over one arm with his harness holster dangling, fully loaded, over her wrist. With her hair messily pinned with the ONLY bobby pin she was able to find, she waited in the doorway of his bedroom for him to finish frantically dressing. "Brief me on the way. Let's go." 

Frankie sat on a bench, coat pulled closed tight, her bare legs folded up under the seat and crossed at the ankles.  Her dark hair is gray with dust and debris from her house, which is a roaring blaze just two blocks away surrounded by emergency personnel. 

SullivanBlack and Matty come from the direction of her home, meaning they drove past the scene bearing witness to a house that canister after canister of Thompson munitions had fired into, windows shattered by molotov cocktails and the blaze which was the aftermath of it all.  Frankie wondered if the bodies of Tony's men would burn or be unidentifiable to the authorities - but she said nothing of such thoughts as Matty scampered out of the passenger side of the car and raced up to her.

"I'm okay."  She said, perhaps too calmly.  "I need clothes. I have a spare dress at the office."  She knew this because she had put it there two days ago, careful chosen for it's versatility and because she had bought it for herself with her own money.  She looked down at her naked left hand, that would take some getting use to - but it, like everything tonight, was necessary.  

She let Matty usher her into the backseat of the car.  "Thank you."  She said softly as she sat down in the backseat, staring off into nothing, her brain already working out the problems she hadn't considered that would likely need to be addressed because of tonight's events, including a talk with TonyCastelli so he didn't take the city to war with... well, God alone knew who he'd blame.  But first things first... clothes. 

The Jonckheere slid to a halt in front of Frankie. Matty jumped out of the round door and rushed to her side as Sullivan leaned over and pulled a lever that threw her seat forward, allowing access to the backseat. He pursed his lips hearing the conversation outside of the car, but he would hold his tongue until he was certain the three of them were safely out of the immediate vicinity.

Once Frankie was safe inside the vehicle and Matty had jumped in, Sullivan peeled away and got the three of them out of the neighborhood. He wasn't sure if Frankie would notice that they weren't headed for The Tower or not, but he looked at Matty... They were headed to the clinic first, whether she liked it or not.

Silence... It fell over the three in the vehicle until Sullivan no longer saw the glow from the flames that had been her and Tony's house. He broke the ice finally.

"What the absolute -fuck- happened? There was a fucking fire fight! How the hell did you even make it out of there? Where's Carmine!? What about Tony's men?!"

He looked at Frankie through the rear view mirror, but her expression was hollow and blank... Was she even there with them right now? Had she even noticed they were on Red Rock Canyon Road on their way to the clinic? He looked back to Matty.

"Someone's going to pay dearly for this. I swear to every fucking God there is, that -someone- will answer for it. I don't care if it's Enzo him fucking self. I don't care if I burn a whole fucking city to the ground to make up for it." He growled low as he turned back to watch the road. It wasn't often he was beyond uncontrollable anger, but this time his family had lived through it and there -was- something he could do about it. Someone would pay the ultimate price. It might be the city of sin, but they were the God's that controlled it. A sin against their family could not go unanswered. He knew it, whoever had done it knew it, even the fucking FBN knew it.

"First things first, what are we telling the family? They need to know before the fucking precinct hits The Tower and starts asking questions. Secondly, what are we telling the pigs? It's obvious it wasn't a fucking gas pipe explosion... This was a hit. And their going to use it in their war on organized crime. How we're a threat to society. We need to assure them this was a random act of violence and we will let them do their job to sort it out." 

He chuckled a bit.

"Then we get some of our guys on the inside to let us know the scoop and that leaves us plenty of time to handle the bastards that fucked up."

He looked in the rear view mirror again as he turned into the clinic's parking lot and slowed to a halt.

"Frankie... We need you to come inside with us. I'll send Harvey for your dress..."

The car moved and the city blurred past, Frankie's mind raced.  She could hear the sounds of SullivanBlack ranting, but listening was an active skill and she wasn't really engaged.  Sorting through her own baggage, determining the order things needed to be done, and establishing that there was no going back now was all in the forefront of her thoughts.  

She closed her eyes, the white circles were gone now, and darkness consumed her.  She breathed in through her nose.  1, 2, 3.  She exhaled out her mouth.  1, 2, 3.  And repeated the process over and over until the thundering sound of her heart beating in her ears died down.

When the car was silent, she opened her eyes and spoke, "The cops will have the shooters in custody soon.  The FBN will bury the story.  They don't want corrupt cops on the front page of the morning papers anymore than we want gangland shootings there and being as both are true... the story should disappear."  She said, as sure of that fact as she was the sun rising in the east.  "But you're right... the coppers will use it as a chance to rattle their sabers.  We should let the crew know to bite their damn tongues even if they get picked up and taken down town."

Frankie felt the car pulling to the curb.  "As for Carmine... he and his men are at Dixie's in the red light district spending their bonus money on whores and booze."  Sullivan parked the car and turned to look back at her, his eyes felt like daggers upon her, as he silently tried to puzzle out how the hell she knew so much.  She realized now that she was at Matty's clinic, she was going to tell Sully that Tony's men were all dead - but what was the point in that.  If her men were out whoring, Sully had to know it was Tony's guys she'd kept home.  And if they weren't with her... that could only mean they were dead.  It was all pretty cut and dry really.

"Matty's going to check me over?"  She asked.

"Mhmm..." was about all she got out of Sullivan at that point, his eyes scanning her as his gears turned.

"So...All of -your- men are off. That means Tony's men are probably all dead... But the only people that should have known about that detail were you, me, and maybe Matty?" His fingers drummed swiftly on the steering wheel as he continued to stare at her.

"And the house, Tony's house, is burning down as we speak... And you aren't wearing your ring I noticed." The drumming continued.

"And you conveniently have clothes at the Tower... Even I don't have clothes at the Tower." The drumming stopped abruptly.

"How do you know the cops will have the shooters in custody? Who did this Frankie? And why do you have so many coincidences floating around you?" Sullivan stared hard before turning in his seat and stepping out of the car. "Fuck it all... We need to check you out before we talk about this. But I don't fucking like it, Frankie... We're going to have a nice talk after I know you're physically fine." He slammed the door on the driver's side making both women still in the vehicle jump with the noise. His metered steps drew him around the car and to the passenger side, opening the door for the two but not sticking around for them to get out.

Sullivan made his way to the clinic entrance where Gabriel opened the door for him and rushed out to the car with Matty and Frankie, smiling at them both until he noticed their looks...

Sullivan disappeared into the clinic and out of sight...

Frankie looked to Matty and tilted her head slightly, part amused & part confused, "You'd think he had absolutely not experience with this sort of thing." 

She she shook her head slowly and sighed, knowing there was nothing to do now but to face the music such as SullivanBlack wanted to conduct it.  "I shouldn't have expected..."  She let her thoughts trail off.  There was no point in completing them.  "Forget it.  Let's just go inside so you can see I'm physically okay aside from some small cuts and scrapes."

She stepped out of the car and took a moment to look at Matty, this time really seeing her - including the shoes.  A smile tugged at the corner of her lips a moment as she suddenly realized why Sully might be so damn upset, not just about her being in danger... but in being interrupted.  Matty and Sully were really happening.  This was a thing now.  

Good for them both.

"I'm sorry."  She said softly to Matty, not wanting to embarrass her with an explanation that neither woman probably needed.  With that she let Matty lead her inside, going back inside her own mind to muddle through things unspoken.

Matty motioned Gabriel off as he approached the car, "Prep the West exam room, and keep the lights off streetside." His smile quickly faded into grim understanding as he scuttled off with an enthusiastic nod; leaving the two women alone. Matty waited patiently, quietly, as Frankie's thoughts danced around them both; her soft demeanour ever present, even in such times of tension. Giving Frankie's shoulder a light squeeze, she smiled half-heartedly, "He already lost one Messina woman... with no one to pay for it. You could have anticipated that he would want to pay that back double at the first opportunity. THIS is that opportunity. This time he can do something about it... to ease his conscience. And don't we all deserve that? At least as much as we can afford in this life of ours?"  Her words were gentle, unchastizing; more a compassionate reminder than a scalding. 

Matty blushed lightly as Frankie's gaze fell to the patent leather heels that screamed in stark contrast to her cream coloured dress, a flash of understanding sparkling behind her Doña's eyes. Pressing her lips together to hide the growing smile... so inappropriate at a time like this... Matty simply nodded and led Frankie inside. 

It was a short walk from the front office to the exam room, but it felt stifling all the same. Silence hung heavily in the air like a weighted blanket, draping itself over their shoulders and weighing down their tongues. Matty led Frankie into a small room in the interior of the building. It was modest: furnished with little more than an examination table, two armchairs chairs, one of those nice rolling stools, a small cabinet for herbal and medical supplies and a sink with hot water. The room itself was small, though not cramped, and much warmer and more inviting than a typical doctor's office. Gabriel was nowhere in sight... likely making himself scarce like the perfect little helper her was... so Matty simply gestured tiredly toward the sink, "Wash off what you can, and leave your coat on one of the chairs. If you need a patient gown, they're in the cabinet to your left. I'm going to go fetch something for your nerves, and give you some time to... get comfortable... at least as much as possible. I'll be back in just a few moments. If you need anything at all before I'm back, just press zero on the intercom. It rings the whole building." 

True to her word, Matty ambled back into the room in after a short while... just enough time, as it were, for Frankie to settle in. The warm smell of hot chocolate wafted tantalizingly down the hall, reaching Frankie's nose long before Matty ever entered. "Here, Preciosa. Chocolaté y cayena... hot chocolate with cayenne pepper and a touch of cinnamon. Drink up. I know you don't want to... haven't wanted to in a while... but it will help. Even if you are fine, all the noise and the stress still trigger the autonomic nervous system. It causes shell shock and the like. The chile, odd as it sounds, will help counteract that. The cinnamon helps with depression, and the chocolate releases feel goods in the body. Choke as much down as you can. It will help clear your thoughts and fight off the chill of the night." 

Turning to her cabinet, Matty glanced over her usual array of tools... stethoscope, blood pressure cuff, otoscope. They'd all be more or less useless at this point. Increased heart rate and blood pressure were a given, the reading would be absolutely abnormal... which was honestly completely normal given the night. And the rest of her vitals would be likewise skewed... and thus no good. The best Matty could do at the moment was a precursory physical exam. And that would just have to do. 

"I'm not gonna make you say 'ah' or any of that shit. Just lay back and tell me if anything hurts, mkay?" Lightly she worked her way up and down Frankie's form; pressing on her abdomen here and there, rotating joints to assure all was well, checking reflexes and pupil dilation. Everything seemed  mostly normal, but Matty double and triple checked just in case. There were plenty of scrapes, scratches, bumps and bruises. All of which were properly cleaned and doctored. But little else of note. 

After a long while, Matty sat up; looking at Frankie quite seriously and sternly. "Keep an eye on your nerves. I know you haven't been sleeping well. And that's likely to get worse. If and when it starts to affect your ability to function, I'll compound you something to help. Likewise, keep an eye on your cycles. I'm sure that it's a sore subject because of... well, you know... but this kind of stress does very strange things to a woman's body. It's not unlikely that you'll notice some... irregularities... in the near future. That may be your bodies normal response to stress. But if there is any chance that it's not, OR if it becomes recurrent or persistent, I expect you to come see me immediately so that we can get you all straightened out." 

Matty began putting things away as she continued talking. Clearly, they were about done here,  "I'm going to make a quick stop upstairs for some undergarments and change out of Jackie's shoes," the Latina was almost humorously matter of fact about it all, "And then we can leave for the Tower... unless you would like to use my shower, which you are more than welcome to do. Just take a few minutes... finish your cocoa if you can, and meet us in the lobby when you're ready," she paused just before stepping into the hall, "And for fuck's sake if you're going to pull a stupid stunt like this, let us know ahead of time. We can have arrangements in place and it will make things much smoother." 

Matty smiled sweetly over her shoulder, "I know that it may feel like it, but you're NOT alone in this, Francesca." With that, Matty pulled the door closed behind her with an air of finality and left Frankie to her thoughts. She'd be waiting in the front office with Sully and Gabriel whenever Frankie decided she was ready. 

Frankie dresses, sipping her cocoa - enjoying the warmth flowing through her.  She had taken in all Matty's words, the woman was kind and stern - it reminded her of her own mother, so very long ago... before the sickness.  Perhaps that's why she had a soft spot for Matty?  Maybe that or just her way with SullivanBlack.  

She ran fingers through her hair trying to make herself presentable and notices that her wedding ring is gone again when it does not snag upon her long hair.  It's then she remembers that Sullivan had noticed her wedding ring was gone.  Of all the things for him to catch... how strange.

She swallows the last of the chocolate pooling in the bottom of her cup like a child, nearly licking it clean.  She puts the cup on the exam table.  Then, preparing herself for the tongue lashing to come, she walks out of the room and back into the lobby where everyone is waiting.

"Thank you both for coming so quickly."  She says, realizing she hadn't thanked them yet.