"I didn't mean it."

She hadn't expected him, Frank. hadn't expected him to show up next to her, weeks after she'd last seen him, since he'd snapped horrible, but true, things at her and let her walk away. To her, the weeks between had seemed like years, hungry and cold, struggling to find work, and a warm place to stay. She hadn't been successful at either.

"Don't matter, Cowboy. Just the truth."

She was sitting in the park, and at least it was still warm. It was going to be winter soon, and that was going to be a problem. Especially if work continued to be scarce, and she was hungry enough that she was almost cranky, but rather than take it out on Frank, who had just appeared at her side, seemingly out of nowhere, she forced a smile at him, shaking her head.

"No, it wasn't. Look, I wasn't expectin to see ya. Ever again. And then there ya were."

He sat down next to her, and she moved to give him more room, not wanting to crowd him. In the days since she'd seen him, she asked around, found out what he'd been up to. Prison, union leader, happy surrogate family. He had everything he'd lost, just about. No wonder he hadn't wanted to see her show up again, remind him of before.

"I'll stay out of ya way, Frank. I won't bother ya."

And she meant it. She didn't want to bother him, he was better off without her. She was lost, drifting, didn't know where to go, or how to get by. She knew eventually, she would fall back on skills she had never wanted to learn, but had long since mastered. And then she really wouldn't be worth knowing at all.

"Ya had blood all over ya face. He'd broke ya nose, it was still bleedin. And I could tell ya were hurtin. But the worst part was that y'were cryin. I'd never seen ya cry. Scared the shit outta me. Scared pa, too. 'S why he got so angry."

Startled, she glanced at him, wincing when she realized he was talking about that last night, when she'd gone running to his family's apartment, sobbing, and traumatized. The night everything fell apart. The night her life ended, more or less.

"Frank…"

He didn't seem to hear her, he just kept talking, like he'd rehearsed it, in front of a mirror. As though he'd been scared to talk to her about it. But she knew Frank wasn't scared of anything, or anyone.

"It took me a few years to figure it out. What he'd done. Ma was gone, and I was runnin the streets, stealin to get by. Came across an alley, heard someone. Thought it might be a drunk, passed out, might have somethin worth stealin, so I checked it out. But it was just this girl. Younger'n me, tiny, dark-haired. All torn up, bleedin. Cryin. Gang of sailors had picked her up. And I knew, she had that same look."

Once again, she winced, sighing. She didn't want, or need his pity, not about wounds long since scabbed over. Not with that look on his face, the resigned helplessness. She didn't want him to feel that way about her, like she was something he had failed to protect.

"Frank, stop. Yeah, Andy hurt me. It was a long time ago. And no, ya couldn't've stopped him. Ya pa did enough, tryin to help. That was enough. That someone cared, that there was a family out there who loved me. More'n my ma did. But all of that was a long damn time ago. Life keeps comin. Doesn't stop. And ya have a whole life now, a good one. From what I hear. So, go live it."

She was jealous, of course. Of his good life. His happy life, with his friends, and the dark haired girl she'd seen him with. His life seemed to finally be back on track, the way it should have been, if he'd never met her, never gotten caught up with her mess. Not perfect, but getting there.

"I was in love with ya. The way kids fall in love, ya know. I though I was gonna marry ya, and live in a tree house in the park. I'd get a job in those stables, Old Man Phillips's stables, down the way, and we'd eat sausages for lunch, ever day, from that cart that came by."

He still couldn't look at her, studying his hands, his voice soft, and he laughed a bit, as though making fun of himself for having been so naive. It wasn't until she moved her hand on top of his that he looked over at her, and could see her smiling, crookedly.

"I thought we were gonna live in a tent on top of the buildin ya lived in. Have a little garden up there. And I'd get a job in Capelli's lace shop."

He laughed properly at that, his hand twisting around under hers to grasp her fingers, gripping lightly. It was such an innocent touch, his hand holding hers, so much larger then she remembered his hands being. It made her heart hurt, realizing just how much time had passed.

"I'm sorry everythin happened the way it did, Gold."

And so was she. But as she squeezed his hand back, she knew those children's daydreams weren't going to happen. Not just because they were silly, but because while she had never managed to move on, he clearly had.

"I know, Frank. I am, too. But ya should really get goin."

She already knew, somehow, that after he left, she'd eventually find her way back, to the Dove, to her life before. Leaving had done nothing but remind her that she was the only one not moving forward. And when he frowned at her, his concern clear on his face, she knew she'd have to lie to get him to go.

"Are ya gonna be alright? Where are ya stayin? Have ya found work?"

His questions were almost heartbreaking, and she knew he'd probably see right through her smile, forced, and tight. But it was the best she could do, under the circumstances.

"I'm fine, Frank. I've got it worked out. I'll be alright. So, off ya go. I'll see ya around."

He hesitated, his frown making it clear he knew she wasn't being honest. So, she nudged him, repeatedly, until he got to his feet, letting go of her hand, nodding unhappily. She was left forcing a smile up at him from her bench, feeling like he was gripping at her heart.

"If ya sure, Gold. I'll see ya around."

Watching him walk away a second time hurt just as badly as the last time. But she knew it was better this way. He had a chance. That was worth too much, to her, to drag him down. As for herself, when it got dark, she'd just find her way back to the Dove, and hope that Andy wasn't so mad at her that he'd rough her up before putting her back to work. It was better this way.