A/N: Thanks so much to those who reviewed my previous story! :) This new one is a one-shot that describes my interpretation of Frank's thoughts and emotions in Hell on Earth (1x09). All dialogue is the same as what's in the episode. I wrote this because apparently lots of people are not sympathetic to Frank at all, so this is my attempt to show the conflicting feelings that he probably felt throughout the hellish revelation.

Chewing on his breakfast, Frank got upstairs to their bedroom, to get the adoption papers. It was right where Julia had said it was. He flipped through them, checking to see if everything was in order. But the papers left on the nightstand caught his eye. Distracted, he put down the adoption papers, and took the others.

Sheet music. For the musical that Julia was working on with Tom? But the words didn't seem to fit Marilyn. Especially… Brooklyn Bridge?

If it wasn't for the musical, then there could only be one explanation. Julia's outlet had always been songwriting. If there was something she couldn't say, she would put it into song.

What was she trying to say, then?

He had been thinking about that song, still gripping the papers in his hand. It was obviously not for Marilyn; that was clear enough. From the lyrics that Julia had penned, there was only one interpretation. And he didn't like it.

Frank sat down at their piano, and started to play from the scores, their family portrait mocking him from atop the instrument.

Tonight my thoughts were all of you
But no one else could know

"Hi! I'm home! So sorry I'm late. Tom and I got stuck in this title idea. I hate titles." Julia was back. Perfect. Time to find out the truth.

Your melody kept coming through

"Either they just… come. Or you're stuck…" Julia's voice trailed off, as she saw Frank at the piano.

I know I had to go

"For months, or… years."

And so I lied

"And no one's happy."

To the one I loved
To find you in the dark
And share the bliss
Of one more kiss
Up on the Brooklyn Bridge

"What… where did you find that?"

"By your side of the bed." Frank turned around, seeing Julia nod fervently. "Here, you sing it."

"Oh, it's a misfire," she hedged.

"I think it's pretty good, here, why don't you sing it?"

"I'm really tired."

"Julia? Wait. Marilyn Monroe on the Brooklyn Bridge – you wanna tell me what's going on?" Frank stood up, following her.

"Nothing."

"You liar."

Julia whipped up, facing him. The skin below her left eye glistened with wetness, like a few tears had escaped down her cheek. It was, really, what confirmed his suspicions – that something was going on. Or at least, had gone on.

"Where's Leo?"

"He's not here. I found that thing. And I knew. I knew."

"You don't know."

"I knew enough to get the kid out of the house, so I could find out. Find out what the hell is going on."

"Nothing's going on."

Five seconds of silence, punctuated only by Julia's almost convulsive breathing. Frank tilted his head questioningly.

"It's over," she finally said. An admission that something had, in fact, taken place. He had known, since morning, but it was still hard to stomach. "Is it?"

"Yes," she nodded, seemingly trying to compose herself, before uttering another stronger "yes".

"It was Michael, wasn't it?" Their gazes held, but neither spoke.

Which meant that it was Michael. If it wasn't, she would have immediately denied it. But she didn't even bother to. Frank's heart sank in defeat, as he looked away.

"I thought, when I saw you two. At the workshop. Then I thought, God, no, she wouldn't. She wouldn't. That's just not…" he shook his head, which was in actuality what he had done when the thought had first surfaced. "Even… possible. That's what I thought."

"It wasn't anything–"

"Julia, please, don't. I don't wanna hear all these stupid things that people say at moments like this. It was something? It was total betrayal! Of me, and Leo, and… and…" His voice failed him. Putting this into words, saying it aloud, just made it more and more real. Their marriage failing wasn't even something he had ever considered. This was just… a nightmare.

But he had to continue. He still didn't know to what extent Julia and Michael's affair had gone to. But he had an idea. Her silence was a big clue in itself.

"Eighteen years of marriage. It was a betrayal of everything. Do not tell me it wasn't anything!" Frank had already gotten to the point of yelling. "That is just, that is, that's disgusting that you would say that. That's disgusting."

"I'm sorry," Julia cried, her voice choked with tears. His wife. She was still his wife, but it felt so different now. The disconnect. He couldn't understand her. Why she could… How she could have done something like that.

"I mean it, I am so, so sorry…"

"Sorry is so… sorry is not good enough."

"Frank, I don't know what else to say. I didn't want it to happen. It was an accident it happened."

His eyes widened. "An accident?" She was still making excuses at this point?

"Oh please, I don't know how to talk about this."

"Neither do I."

"Okay, okay," Julia placed her hands on his chest, but he shrugged her off. He heard her gasp. "Oh, okay! Okay!"

Frank was beyond speaking now. He had lost the ability to string words into coherent sentences. It was a complicated mixture of emotions. Of anger, and hurt, and disappointment, and confusion… A solution of emotions, dissolved into one another.

A solution. As if there's going to be any solution to this. He thought, taking his coat and slamming the door after him.

Frank was waiting for Michael. They were friends, and he had a vague idea of Michael's schedule. But their friendship would pretty much be terminated by the end of this conversation.

The door squeaked open, and upon spotting his target, he quickly called out, "Michael! Hey!"

Michael turned, motioning for his friends to leave first. All the better. This was going to have to be a one-on-one. This man, who had ruined his family, was now right in front of him, and wasn't even looking at him.

Frank made a big show of looking over his shoulder, then saying, "No, Julia's not here. She's at home, with Leo."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah."

Frank knew that Michael now knew he knew. He was an actor, but he couldn't quite act his way out of this.

"Well, uh, it's great seeing you." He tried to walk past, but Frank grabbed him by the shoulders. Oh no, he wasn't quite done yet.

"Hold on." "Frank–"

"Hang on. I just wanna talk. Just wanna talk." Frank held up his hands, as if surrendering. Which was the furthest thing from his mind.

Michael was obviously uncomfortable. Funny, he hadn't seemed uncomfortable when the affair was still a secret. "Go home, Frank."

"That's actually, yeah. That's not so easy to do anymore, is it?"

"It is. Go home. Julia's waiting for you."

"You're not allowed to tell me about my wife and what she's doing."

"I'm not."

"You came into my house, you had dinner with my wife and my son, and then you slept with my wife." Frank sounded surprisingly calm, but he was withholding the urge to punch Michael.

"Okay," Michael interjected.

"You came into my house," the fury was seeping into Frank's voice now, "into eighteen years of marriage."

"This is not the time or place."

"And you took everything from me. You took everything."

"Frank, listen to me. It was over a long time ago. It should have never started up again and that's on me. But don't make this more than it is."

It was confusion at first. Then the realisation of what Michael's words meant hit him. Hard.

It was over a long time ago. It should have never started up again.

Again. That was the keyword, wasn't it? "Again" meant it was worse than Frank had thought. "Again" meant that this wasn't just a one-off mistake. "Again" meant that if Julia and Michael could relapse this time, then it could happen again.

It meant that this… this cheating was a pattern that they could both fall back into.

How could he have not discovered it before?

"It was over a long time ago." Michael's voice brought him back into reality, his repetition reinforcing what Frank was thinking. He took a step back, as Michael's brows furrowed. This revelation was a verbal punch to him, and he couldn't take it anymore.

"A long time ago?" An actual punch landed on Michael as he fell to the ground, and it was only then that Frank realised it was he who had thrown the punch. He turned slowly, walking away, defeated. Michael was the one on the receiving end of the punch, but Frank was the real loser. His family was the real loser.

On his way home, a loud sigh escaped from his lips. He was doing exactly what Michael had said. Go home, Frank. But he was going home, to leave home.

He had spoken to Leo, who had apparently known about the affair. Not the before part, though, Frank was certain, even though he hadn't mentioned it. Leo had asked how this had come to light, to which he answered, "Your mom told me."

It was true, to some extent. He had discovered it, but through her writing. He had asked, and she hadn't said it explicitly, but he had known as much. Not the exact details of what had conspired, but enough to ascertain that there had been something illicit going on between her and Michael.

Frank dragged his bags down the stairs, as Julia's voice floated in from the balcony, getting louder as she walked into the room.

"Frank, no. No, come on, come on, don't. We're still a family. Okay, I made a terrible, terrible mistake, but that doesn't mean that… Frank! Hold on a second! For heaven's sake!" Julia ran in front of him, blocking his way. "Just stop it! We have to talk about this!"

He put his bags down. He was agitated, from Michael's revelation. She should have known better. But in their years of marriage, how many quarrels have they had? "Okay, let's talk. Tell me the whole story. Tell me about when it started. Tell me how long it went on."

"I…"

"Tell me about before!"

"Before?"

"Yeah, before! About how it happened. Before." He waited for an answer, as Julia's eyes flicked from his face to somewhere behind him, and back.

"Leo, your father and I need some priva–"

"No! You don't get to decide how this goes! Whatever you thought, before, was wrong. You thought that this would be okay. You thought that cheating is nothing. You thought 'he'll never find out', you thought 'he'll forgive me'. You thought 'it doesn't mean anything'!"

"Please don't tell me what I think. And please, please, please don't go. We need, we need…"

"Don't go, dad. Please."

Frank turned at the sound of Leo's voice. It hurt him that his son had to see them quarrel. Even Julia – she was crestfallen; he could see that. And while whatever was happening now was the direct result of her actions, it still hurt him to see her cry and plead. Why had she done that with Michael?

He still loved her. He still loved this family. But he couldn't continue living together, sharing a bed, cooking for her. Not with this hanging like a dark cloud above them. Like a nasty smell permeating their household.

He lugged his bags out in silence, Leo's final plea ringing in his head as he stepped out of the door. "Don't go!"