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For whom the bell tolls

Summary:

The overwhelming need to cry overtook him and all of a sudden he was sobbing, the raw and unbidden screams falling from his lips like a prayer.

Notes:

Hello from me again. You must be wondering what I'm doing, writing and posting random fics instead of my Whumptober ones, but this one wouldn't leave me alone until I had it out.
I accidentally rewatched 1x22 the other day and noticed Frank had tears in his eyes when Jamie was telling him about the whole Blue Templar thing and the undercover. So I realized I had to write a missing scene I didn't know I needed.
That craving resulted in this story.
Behold, some Frank angst and then some Frank comfort. And a cuddle pile with his kids. I'm aware they are all adults, but I felt like they all wanted to stay close to each other to decompress.
As always thank you N1ghtshade for everything.
Title is from the John Donne poem (Frank mentioned it in 1x15, said it was Joe's favorite)

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

No man is an island entire of itself; 

Every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main; 

If a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as well as any manner of thy friends or of thine own were; 

Any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind. And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; 

It tolls for thee.

- " No man is an island " poem by John Donne

...

He was not going to cry. He was not. He was going to get out of this place and only then- 

A tear slid down his cheek, and then another. He couldn't quite contain them now that they were running free. He wished he could have held on, he wished he was stronger than this. But the pain was too great. 

Frank loosened his tie once he got out, but nothing was helping that stuffy feeling he had. He was trapped in his own personal nightmare. He noticed Jim, waiting by the car. He thought about telling him what he was about to do, but he really wanted to be alone. 

Frank got to the driver's seat when Jim noticed him. 

"Boss?" 

"I'll take the car. I need to be alone for a minute." 

"But…" 

"Please." 

Frank had no idea what his face was doing, but it must have been something desperate or sad that his personal bodyguard nodded and he and the driver stayed back. 

He didn't know where he was going, he just drove forward. It was weird to drive on his own again after so long being driven to and from work or any place he needed to go. His head was full of cotton and static, brain trying to process everything he saw and heard in the last few days. It was overwhelming, learning about Jamie working on uncovering what was possibly the biggest group of corrupt police officers. Continuing what his brother started. What got Joe killed over. 

Frank wondered what would have happened if Joe had come to him and if they tried to solve this in house, the way they did it tonight. If they could have handled the pressure and the outcome of that investigation. 

Frank was forever going to have questions about how things were handled in that situation. If Joe didn't trust him enough to come to him with all the information, if he chose the assignment to prove that he could do this job without the cloak of the name Reagan shadowing him. Frank knew how it felt, it wasn't easy to be the PC's son, you constantly were under the microscope, everyone looked over your actions twice, and it was the easiest ticket to get you in trouble. Everyone always thought Frank had his father's protection. He was still paying that debt years later. And now Joe paid it twice over with dying on the job, being killed for doing what was the right thing to do. 

Sonny Malevsky's words were still ringing in his ears. "He was warned" played on a loop in Frank's head. He was warned. Joe was warned and he still didn't come to him, to his own father for help. Did he scare his kids so much with doing the things the right way that they thought they couldn't come to him for help? It took Jamie a near death experience to come forward and even then, it felt like Jamie had thought he should be doing the thing himself rather than come to Frank. 

Without realizing, he parked the car in front of the cemetery and got out. Walking in the dead of night right to the place where all his loved ones were buried. His mom, his wife, his son. All three of them, their headstones marking where their resting places were. 

He didn't know what to say. Usually he would tell them things he wouldn't tell anyone else, those things he put into tiny near boxes never to be opened or examined, ever again. He had to hold himself to a higher standard and he couldn't just walk around with his heart on his sleeve. Which was easier said than done, because his heart was always on his sleeve. 

Looking at the three graves in front of him, he lowered himself on his knees, touching Joe's headstone, a silent conversation happening between them both. 

He turned to Mary's next, and this time he spoke up. 

"We got our boy's killer, Mary. He took the cowardly way out, but we got him. Now Joe can truly rest in peace." 

Frank couldn't tell just how much time had passed since he came here, but after a while Jamie joined him and gently coaxed him to his feet. 

"Come on, Dad, let's go home." 

Once at home, Frank went directly upstairs. He knew that Erin and his father would be still up and Danny was probably going to stay the night, but he was exhausted and bone weary, he just wanted to shower and get under the covers. Somewhere along the way there was rain and the chill feeling from it permeating the air stuck to his coat and to the exposed skin of his neck and hands. 

He could hear his kids and his father talking downstairs, Jamie and Danny probably filling the others in on what happened. Frank just wanted to sleep until he couldn't anymore. 

While he was in the shower, it finally occurred to him that he didn't really process what happened to Joe, and the grief got replaced with anger and drive for doing things the best he could. He missed Joe a lot, but he never truly gave himself the right to be normal about all of this. The overwhelming need to cry overtook him and all of a sudden he was sobbing, the raw and unbidden screams falling from his lips like a prayer. He was thankful that the water was loud enough to muffle the sounds. 

Once he was showered and felt clean enough, he toweled himself dry and got dressed in a pair of soft sweatpants and a t-shirt. On a second thought he put on one of the sweaters that Mary got for him, this one was a soft green color, a gift for their anniversary the year she died. He had worn it well in those first few months after she died, but later he put it away, sort of like a memory he didn't want to touch for fear of making things prove to be too real. 

Tonight though, he needed to feel that familiar comfort, so he fished that particular sweater out and put it on. 

Getting to his room, he found his kids sitting on his bed, like they were waiting for him. It wasn't unusual for them to come and talk to him in his room, but it had been years since all three barged in together. Back when they were still four to count and they would just jump in the bed between Frank and Mary, momentary feuds and fights were forgotten for the comfort of their parents' bed and their warmth shared between all of them. 

Frank knew what all of them needed tonight. They all moved wordlessly until they were snuggled in together on the bed. The bed was still big enough to hold them all, even though they were all adults now. Erin claimed the spot on the left from Frank and Danny on the right, leaving Jamie sandwiched weirdly between brother and sister. They somehow found a comfortable position and finally relaxed, holding onto each other. 

Once they were all more or less asleep and he could convince himself that all three of his kids were good and accounted for, only then he let himself lower his guard and close his eyes too. 

Frank liked to think that that night Joe was with them too. 

Notes:

Thoughts?