Broken Pieces (a Frazel AU)

Hot-Blooded

Frank wasn't sure what about exorcism made him sleep well, but he woke up the next day feeling more refreshed than he had in years. The exhaustion that had piled onto him after his mother's death had been removed. He felt lighter and he noticed other things too. It was easier for him to smile, to talk to customers, to enjoy food, to compliment his wife. It was as if he'd been wearing a heavy suit of armor and only now, upon its removal, did he realize how difficult it had been.

It was this realization that gave him perspective. When he next saw Nico moping around, Frank didn't shy away like he usually would have, but invited him to talk. In the past, Frank had often not been present when he spoke with Nico, but this time he looked the dark-haired man in the eyes and listened. Nico was slow to open up - a cloistered nun with his secrets, but to Frank's surprise, Nico did admit some things. "I miss Hazel," he said, looking at the ground, sparkling with frozen dew.

"I think she misses you too," Frank said. "It would be good for the two of you if you'd come over sometimes for supper."

Nico looked up. He looked sad and uncomfortable like a bedraggled crow that had just fallen into an icy brook. "Really?"

"Of course," Frank said. "It would make Hazel happy and isn't that a husband's duty to his wife?"

Nico looked curiously at Frank. "You're not like most men."

Frank raised an eyebrow, his heart fluttering like a trapped butterfly. Did Nico mean he was not manly enough? "What do you mean?"

"You're kind and good," Nico said. "When my sister married you, I was worried you'd treat her badly."

Frank stared at Nico. He still felt awkward and unsure around his wife most of the time, but the last thing he'd want to do is make her unhappy! Where had Nico learned his suspicion? His father? The plague? "That said," Nico continued, "if you harm one hair on her body, I'll drag you into flames so hot that purgatory will seem like heaven."

Frank shivered. Was his mother still in purgatory or had her good deeds and his prayers been enough? "I fear that about as much as I fear for my soul," Frank said.

Nico smiled sardonically. "So not much?"

"Nay," Frank said, "I fear it greatly."

The words felt like jagged stones in his mouth, scraping as they left his mouth. "I fear many things. I fear for my mother. I fear for myself. I fear for my grandma. I fear a lot."

Nico stared at him and Frank stared back. Why had he just spoken those words to Nico, telling him things as if he was his confessor? "I'm scared sometimes too," Nico said slowly.

Frank blinked. "Really? But you seem-"

Nico's smile was flippant. "What better way to handle my fears than be the scariest thing in Christendom?"

Frank raised an eyebrow. "You think you're scarier than the devil?"

Nico's eyes glinted. "Chiron tells us the devil is seductive. I, on the other hand, flaunt my evil nature."

Frank shook his head. Nico might be a little off-putting with his ability to creep around as softly as a cat, but at his core, he was just a lonely soul. Frank marveled at how grief could change people and in so many different ways. Grief had muted Frank, making him go through the motions of life without actually experiencing it. Grief had hardened Nico, giving him edges to deal with life's blows. Grief had warped Hazel, leaving her both mature and naive - experienced and yet new.

"Would next Sunday be a good night for you to come over?" Frank asked.

"Hazel won't be too tired after church?" Nico asked.

"As long as you don't mind leftovers," Frank replied.

"Throw everything in the cauldron soup?" Nico asked, raising an eyebrow.

Frank grinned. "She does that every Sunday. How did you know?"

"She did the same when she lived with me," Nico replied. "And yes, I'd love to come over."

***

Hazel was mending one of his tunics when Frank returned home. She glanced up briefly before returning to her work, her eyebrows scrunched as her fingers flew with precision. "Nico said he missed your cooking," Frank said, unfastening the cloak from his neck. "He was wondering if he could come over on Sunday for dinner."

Hazel looked up, her lips curled. "That's nice of him."

She looked down again to return to her work. Frank found himself watching her, marveling at how her golden gaze stayed steady as she used the needle to pull thread through the woolen tunic. Some of the soft winter sunlight from the window illuminated her pretty cheeks and soft eyelashes. Frank forced himself to look away.

After dinner, Frank headed to bed. Hazel laid down beside him. "It was very considerate of you to invite Nico over," she said. "I know he can be quite lonely sometimes."

There was a wistful, far-away look in her eyes and Frank wondered if she missed the Nico she'd never known - the one who hadn't lost his sister and mother. "We're family," Frank said simply.

Hazel met his smile. She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. His skin seemed to burn at her touch, as if she was branding him. "Family," she repeated.

She traced the curves of his face. "Hazel?" Frank asked.

"Yes?" she replied.

Frank's tongue felt clumsy in his mouth, but he forced the words out. "I'm glad you're my wife."

She blinked and a smile of pleasure spread over her face. "I'm glad you're my husband."

"Can I - can I kiss you?" Frank asked.

Hazel whispered a yes. They ended up bumping noses before their lips met. Heat spread over Frank's entire body. He could feel her soft curls brushing against his neck, her warm hands pressed against his cheek and back. She tasted of beeswax and bread. With her body fitting around his as if they were made for each other, Frank whispered a fervent prayer of gratitude for having such a wonderful wife.