Author's Note: Hello, and welcome to my second fic! This is just a short little ficlet about Frank after his death (hence the title, oooh, it makes sense!) but I digress. I am debating whether or not to add to this piece, I would like to…

After the Fact

Frank opened his eyes and stood. He was in an unfamiliar place. What…happened? he asked himself blearily. Warily he looked around. He stood in a white room, surrounded by tall cream colored pillars, at the top of which burned flames, some white, like the room, some black, and some red. He looked down. The floor beneath his feet was marble, patterned in hues of rose, white, and again, black. Realization dawned. He staggered backward, not wanting to believe, but…he looked around, and there was Columbia. She smiled wanly at him, and he remembered. Though he had given her most of Riff's memories, she wouldn't know what this place was.

He looked away, for once in his life ashamed. It was his fault she was here. If he hadn't wanted to make her forget her former life, if he hadn't used Riff Raff—and Magenta's—memories, then she wouldn't be here right now, with him…shadows of memory of the old religion must have been in her mind, otherwise she wouldn't be here…

"Frankie?" her voice sounded uncertain. She gazed at him with soulful eyes, as beautiful in death as she was in life. Frank, gazing back at her, at her soul revealed, realized something he'd never known when he was alive. Her soul was soft, and pure, glowing with an inner beauty he'd never seen. He realized then how blind he'd been, and he hoped the gods would forgive him for it.

"Columbia." He opened his arms to her and she rushed into them gladly. "I suppose I should explain."

Columbia looked at him in confusion. "What do you mean?"

He gently pushed her away and sat down, motioning for her to do the same. It was then that she noticed that the two of them were both completely unclothed. She blushed and tried to cover herself, but Frank shook his head. "It doesn't matter now, Columbia."

With a sigh, he began to explain. "I suppose…well, I'll start at the beginning. You know about Transsexual." Columbia nodded. "You weren't from Transsexual, Columbia. You were just a girl I happened to pick up on day. I…altered you, Columbia. I gave you a lot of Riff Raff's memories and a few of Magenta's. Which is why you're here."

"What do you mean?" Columbia asked.

"You and I are dead, darling, in body at least."

She gasped, the painful memory hitting her hard. "Oh. Right."

"You and I are in the entrance to the Hall of the Gods."

"The Hall of the Gods?"

"Yes, darling, the gods of Transsexual. They will weigh our souls, judge our worth. If we are deemed worthy, we will be allowed to return to a living form."

"Oh. And if we aren't deemed worthy?"

"Then we're doomed to eternal damnation."

"Oh. That…doesn't sound very nice."

Frank smiled at Columbia's innocence. Now that he had no physical body to contend with, no messy nervous system or bodily needs…he could see himself as he truly was. He was a bit selfish, true, but only the gods themselves were every truly selfless. And surely, surely…the good he had done outweighed the good, didn't it? He'd killed Eddie…that was sure to be a big mark against him, too…but hadn't he also offered his hospitality to Brad and Janet, when they were stranded and needed help? He'd helped them, if not in the way they might have wanted…

He gazed again upon Columbia lovingly. She was his, now, all his, and there was nothing that could take her away, and he realized that she was exactly what he wanted, the reason he had been so unhappy when he was alive. He had wanted her, and she had wanted him, and then Eddie had stepped into the picture and suddenly his Columbia, his sweet, precious, chipper little girl had run off with the greaser. So, what had he done? He'd gotten mad, terribly mad, and to teach Columbia a lesson he'd taken Eddie from her, forcibly, then used his brain to create Rocky, who was the "perfect" creature.

"Columbia," he said hesitantly, amazed by his ability to see all aspects of his life clearly and unbiased, "Columbia, darling, I know that isn't the best of times to ask this, but…darling, do you still love me?"

She flung herself upon him, squeezing his ethereal form tightly. "Of course, Frankie. I always loved you. And you know that you didn't have to mess around in my head, right?" She smiled at him. "I can see everything clearly now, and Frankie, even if you had left my memories the way they were I still would have loved you. You just weren't very patient, ever."

"What else do you know?" Frank asked.

"I know that you always loved me, even when I felt that you were shoving me aside. Oh, Frankie, those things I said to you in the lab, just before Riff Raff killed us at your floorshow…I only said them because I was hurt. I hope you know that."

He returned her embrace gladly. "I know, darling, I know. And I want you to know that I never meant to hurt you…I was so selfish…"

As the two of them clung together, survivors even in death, somewhere ahead of them a clock chimed once. "What was that?" Columbia asked breathlessly, a little frightened.

"The beginning," Frank replied, standing. He pulled her up with him, and held her close. "Are you ready?" She nodded, and together they went forward to face whatever the future held for them…