Title : How Could She?
Author: Fab_fan
Fandom: All My Children
Pairing: Frankie/Bianca
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters.
Summary: What happened after Bianca walked in on Frankie and JR?
Note: Feedback and reviews are always appreciated.
How could she?
That's all that Bianca could think as she stumbled to her car. Tears streamed wildly down her face. She choked out painful sobs. She fell against the metal door of the car, her entire body shaking so badly she could barely stand.
Frankie was with someone else. Frankie was in bed with someone else. How could she? How?
Blindly, Bianca clawed at the door, violently forcing it open and tumbling inside. Slamming it closed, she shoved the key into the ignition and jammed the vehicle into drive. The engine roared, careening the car down the driveway and away from the house. Away from Frankie.
She made it as far as the next house before her tears became too much. Unable to see, barely able to breathe past her guttural sobs, Bianca pulled the car to the side of the road. The moment the car was in park, Bianca broke down completely.
How could she? What went wrong? Why? Bianca didn't understand. They'd been so close. Frankie told her she loved her! She said it, and Bianca believed her! How could she say that and not mean it? Was her mother right? Was Frankie lying, telling her what she wanted to hear?
No, it couldn't be true. It couldn't! Not again. Frankie loved her. She did. And, she loved Frankie. They loved each other. For the first time, she was finally loved the way she wanted to be, the way she needed to be. Someone wanted her the way she wanted them.
Bianca leaned her head against the steering wheel, palms covering her face. Her body shook with the force of each cry.
She hated her. She hated Frankie. How could she do this? How could she tell her she loved her and then bring another person to her bed? Was it a joke? Some cosmic prank played on the town lesbian? How could anyone love Bianca Montgomery? She was just the loser gay girl.
But, Frankie had to have meant it. She'd looked right into those eyes when Frankie confessed. She would have been able to see the lie, wouldn't she? She would have been able to tell if Frankie didn't really love her. Everyone told her Frankie was fake, a con. Her mother, Leo, all of them. They warned her Frankie would hurt her. Frankie didn't feel what Bianca did. Frankie was using her. She told them they were wrong. Frankie wanted to be with her because of her, not because of money or anything else. She didn't need protecting from Frankie.
They were in love.
Then, there was Frankie, kissing some boy in bed. Bianca fought with her mother, defending Frankie, declaring that what they had was real, only to run and find the other girl half dressed with him. Were they right? Was Frankie a liar? A con?
Bianca clenched her jaw tightly. All those days and nights couldn't have been a lie, could they? The times they spent together laughing and talking. The times they whispered about their hopes and dreams while wrapped around each other. The soft shared gazes and tender touches. The gentle way Frankie would hold her hand after another fight with her mother, murmuring over and over that everything would be ok. They would be ok.
The kisses they shared.
They couldn't all be lies. She couldn't have been so blind as to not see any of it. She saw love when she looked into that closed off yet somehow still vulnerable face. She felt it when Frankie opened up little by little about her past, about who she was.
How could she?
Inhaling deeply, Bianca brought her quivering fingertips to her eyes, wiping at the wetness. She had to know for sure. She had to. Because, heaven help her, she loved Frankie. And Frankie loved her, she had to.
Trembling so badly her hand slipped from the keys twice, Bianca restarted the car and made a u-turn. Driving slowly, she swallowed against the forming cries and tried to build up strength. Frankie was going to explain all of this. All of it! She was mad. She was angry. Frankie was going to…she was going to tell her how she could do this. Repeating this in her mind, the sadness transformed into rage. She had given Frankie everything, all of her. She was not going to let Frankie do this. She sure as hell was not going to let her get away with thinking she could walk all over her.
Pulling up to the house, she cut the engine and got out. Swiping her face clear of any tears, Bianca stormed up to the door, holding her head high. She plastered a look of pure hatred on her face, but inside she was a terrified weeping mess. Since meeting Frankie, whenever she was upset, she'd go to the girl. That's why she'd been there earlier. What did she do now that Frankie was the cause?
Walking into the house, she carefully went up the stairs and down the hall. With each measured footstep, her face began to fall and her throat tightened. She pursed her lips to stop herself from crying again. Her hands began to shake, and her eyes stung with unfallen tears. Were they still in there? Was Frankie laughing about what she'd done? Or was she pacing back and forth horrified that she'd ruined everything? Straining her ears, Bianca didn't hear anything.
Reaching the door, she noted it was open a few inches. Setting her shoulders, she pushed it wide open, prepared to yell at the wayward woman. She was going to make Frankie feel like she was, make her understand what she'd done, even if Bianca didn't. Bianca was going to make those Kane genes show.
Stepping into the room, her eyes darted around, searching for Frankie. Seeing nothing, they went to the floor.
Her heart stopped beating.
On the ground was Frankie. A pool of blood soaked into the carpet underneath her. A gun was in her unmoving hand.
Mind blank, Bianca didn't feel as her body rushed forward, falling to her knees beside Frankie. She didn't feel her hands touching the prone form, slipping in the slick warm blood as she turned her over. She didn't hear herself call out Frankie's name.
Because this couldn't be real. It couldn't be. She wasn't cradling Frankie in her arms, blood staining her hands. She wasn't pressing her palm into the gaping hole in Frankie's chest, life pouring out between her fingers.
But, she was. She really was.
Then, as if coming out of a trance, everything snapped into place. The world came into color, the coppery scent filling her nose and choking her. Staring at the lifeless body, Bianca felt it all become real.
"Frankie!" Bianca shouted, the noise hurting her ears. She held her close against her, resting the limp head against her chest. She pushed her hand harder against the wound, but it seemed to only cause more blood to come out.
"Frankie, please." Bianca shook her. "Please."
Frankie didn't move.
"Oh god, oh god, oh god." Bianca mumbled brokenly. "Please, baby, please."
The blood just kept coming.
"Frankie," Bianca whimpered. She looked down into the still face. The same face that would gaze at her with a lopsided grin and make her heart flutter with a wink. The same face that always changed whenever it looked at her as opposed to someone else. The same face that possessed brown eyes that sparkled whenever they met her own. She lifted her hand from the wound and brought it to a whitening cheek. Flecks of red tainted the skin as she traced her fingers across the smooth flesh, "wake up."
Tears cascading down her face, Bianca pressed her fingers harder into the soft flesh. Her voice begged, "Wake up, please. I…I'm not mad. J-Just w-wake up. Oh god, baby please."
Her tears dripped from her face, mixing with the blood. Her face crumpled completely as the cheek grew cold. Closing her eyes as her heart broke, Bianca pressed her lips against Frankie's forehead, breathing in the comforting scent of amber now mercilessly mixed with the odor of blood. Her hand slid down to wrap in Frankie's, tangling her fingers with ones that couldn't, and would never again be able to.
Squeezing the hand, Bianca dropped her head. Chest hitching, she tenderly brushed her lips against Frankie's. Her mouth moved against the cold unmoving flesh, willing them to react, to meet her with the hidden passion they always would.
They didn't.
"Oh god, Frankie," Bianca whimpered, "I love you. Please."
Later on, when the trial against her mother for Frankie's murder took place, and then when she found out Vanessa was responsible for Frankie's death, all Bianca could ask was - how could she?