(March 2016 - 5 months later)

"And now, we head to our reporter on the scene, Austin Miles. Austin..."

Frankie picked her way through the shoes and coats lying on the floor, determined not to step on anything that wasn't hers.

"Thank you, Charlie. It's been almost a year and a half since the attack from the Red Saturnian the government is calling 'Jemm,' and we haven't seen any city-wide disasters since then. Most are relieved, but I'm here with some of the hardworking officers at the NCPD's thirteenth precinct here on Walker and they've got other ideas."

She shrugged her bag off her shoulder, grateful to lose the weight.

Brad must have left the tv on by accident, but she suspected that when you lived in an apartment like this one, the electricity bill probably wasn't too much of a worry. Even her keys seemed oversized, but that was logically ridiculous.

"Yeah, we're obviously really grateful that nobody's dying and all that, but we're just trying to do our jobs and a certain alien vigilante with a little too much time on her hands is making that difficult."

"Are you saying that Supergirl is leaving you with too little to do?"

"Austin, that's exactly what I'm saying. I get that she must be bored, but-"

Frankie scowled at the tv, reaching for the remote to turn it off. The NCPD still left a sour taste in her mouth and listening to them complain about Supergirl wasn't doing anything to make the feeling any sweeter.

She counted a few empty bottles lying around but neglected to clean them up. It would only be a matter of time before they were replaced, the whole endeavour was pointless.

Her old apartment was an expense she'd very quickly been unable to accommodate, and it felt like nobody in the National City metropolitan area was hiring. Or nobody wanted to hire her specifically, which, after so many interviews that never really seemed to go anywhere and pointedly vague feedback, seemed like the far more likely option.

And so, Brad had soon offered up a place in his penthouse; apparently moving in together had been the next logical step in their relationship anyway if she had read his messages right. At the time, Frankie had agreed readily, grateful for an easy option out of a problem that should have been far more difficult to solve. The rent she paid was non-existent and any grocery or general household purchase she tried to make was swiftly vetoed by any number of flashy credit cards in increasingly deliberate performances of nobility that had, more than once, ended in a heated argument.

She'd grown up in a household with a mother who, despite being one of the most academically respected and well-paid bioengineers on the west coast, was incredibly stingy (or maybe immensely polite was the better way to put it.) Brad was filthy rich and a self-proclaimed gentleman and no matter how much Frankie explained it simply refused to understand why she found it ever so wildly insulting that he couldn't even let her pay for her own fucking tampons. Only now, she wasn't sure how much longer she could afford to argue her case.

Only until you get a job. It was a nice thought, but she refused to wonder any harder about how true it actually was.

Leaving her bag on the marble counter, Frankie made her way to the sofa, already pulling out her phone. It had been on silent during the interviews, but now, as she turned it on, it started to explode with messages at a rate that she'd only seen a few times in her life.

The first few all seemed to be from Brad wishing her luck in job hunting, but the rest came from Kara, Alex, Winn and even Eliza. She didn't have the heart to open them. They'd all be about the same thing anyway.

As she went to put her phone down, another message from Kara came through, this time live instead of hours after it had been sent, and she couldn't help but read the banner that flashed across her screen.

Please answer. Alex and I are waiting for you but if you don't want to come over, we need to know sooner rather than later so we can come to you.

Frankie smiled despite herself. It was just like Kara to force affection even when it wasn't necessarily wanted. She got yet another message, this time from Alex.

frankie, you're not the only one who's upset. And then, just cause you want to spend every day in the frat house doesn't mean you can blow us off

Alex had come over once to drop something off and hadn't called the apartment anything else since. Frankie still refused to acknowledge the resemblance. As far as she was concerned, frats usually had parties and people and huge, unending amounts of hormones.

Kara had invited her - quite forcefully, really - to move in with her, calling it a 'rite of passage,' which, to a certain extent it was with Alex passing ownership of the apartment down the line of sisters, but Frankie couldn't do that to her. The warehouse was very nice, there was no lie there, but it only had one bedroom and Kara would no doubt insist on taking the couch.

Plus, if she had moved in, there wouldn't be any escaping what she knew would come out of replying to the messages.

Replying wouldn't bring back her dad.

It didn't matter how hard Alex tried, insisted that there was more to the story than what their mother or the DEO let on, searched in vain for files that Frankie couldn't even begin to understand the purpose of, there was nothing more to be done.

She didn't know why Kara insisted every year on marking the date of his disappearance on a calendar and planning her own public holiday.

To Frankie, thirteen years was time enough to think, acknowledge every possibility, try to find meaning, rest, whatever the other two were trying to achieve. She was past the point of caring and the deep, inevitable twist her organs did every time she thought about it was proof enough.

Before she could put it down, Frankie's phone lit up once again, catching her attention.

kara's doing her best here the least you could do is have the decency to let her know you're not interested.

It was moments like these that gave Frankie the distinct impression that Alex could read her mind. It checked out; she'd be the only one without a superpower that way. Alex had a point though and Frankie quickly opened up the messages Kara had been sending her all afternoon, trying her best not to read them, and replied as sincerely as she could, claiming she was tired and Brad would be home soon anyway, she wouldn't be alone. As if there was any consolation in saying that.

She was most likely just being dramatic, but after spending all day pleading her case to old, plain-grey-tie wearing HR representatives of whatever jobs she hadn't already applied to, all she wanted was peace and quiet and time to think about what the hell she was even doing.

A crash echoed from the entrance, bouncing around the stone walls and high ceilings and Frankie didn't have to look up to know that Brad had arrived home. Instead of the usual stench of weed or whatever the hell else he and his friends got up to, the kitchen was filled with the overwhelming smell of seafood.

She coughed away the gag that had crept up her throat and turned, watching as Brad tried to manoeuvre himself through the doorway, arms stacked with enough takeout containers to feed an entire family.

"Do you honestly expect me to believe that she's sitting there having a fantastic time on her own?"

"She's not on her own, you just told me Brad's there."

"Alex, you and I both know that's not any better."

"What do you want me to do, march to the other side of the city and force her to be sad with us?" Alex leaned back in her chair, her hands rising almost instinctively in a crude imitation of a surrender. "She's moving on, good for her."

Alex didn't necessarily agree with what she was saying, but in her experience, it was better to take whatever signs and signals Frankie gave off where possible, and right then, it was clear she didn't want to talk.

"When was the last time you saw her in person?"

Her blood ran cold. An honest answer would require mental exertion Alex just didn't have the energy for and Kara's bullshit metres had become scarily accurate in recent times so she couldn't lie. Kara would be angry if she tried to lie.

J'onn's secret alien backstory had come out a few days after Christmas - of his own accord, Alex would never give it up - and while Kara had certainly not blamed her for keeping to her word, it was clear that her trust in Alex had faltered.

Answering Kara's question honestly would've also meant that she'd have to accept the fact that she hadn't spoken to Frankie face-to-face in what was coming up to be a month and a half, and she didn't have the guts to do that.

"Can we talk about Astra?"

"Right now?" Kara asked, freezing as she pulled two wine glasses from the shelf above the counter, clearly indicating her preference. She would often claim that she had a good poker face, but Alex knew that it was some kind of heavenly miracle that nobody had yet figured out that she was an alien.

"Well, you've been avoiding it since you brought her in."

Kara opened her mouth in a way that suggested she was about to change the subject, so Alex moved to beat her to it.

"J'onn's been on my ass since February because he's waiting for you to do something with her."

"What am I supposed to do? She won't talk to me," Kara said, her voice growing smaller and her expression more pained.

Alex certainly felt sympathetic towards Kara's feelings. She didn't quite understand what it felt like to have a murderer in the family, especially since Astra was one of the last surviving links to an entire planet that no longer existed, but this ordeal was beginning to get ridiculous.

Finally filling the glasses with wine, Kara took a seat across from Alex at her stained and chipped table, refusing look at anything other than the curtains behind Alex's head.

In February, Astra had made an appearance outside the NCPD alongside fellow murdering maniac Winslow Schott Sr. The latter was shot on sight and died on his way to the hospital. Alex hadn't figured out the connection between him and Kara's best friend until that point and she would have felt bad about it if it weren't for the fact that it was clear Winn hadn't wanted people to know.

Astra had escaped, almost tauntingly, until the DEO managed to catch up with her and a sizeable crew at a rocky cave on the coastline. Since then, she'd remained in their custody, refusing to talk and spending her time smiling gleefully into the security cameras as though she'd planned everything down to the cell number they kept her in.

"Do you still think not telling Frankie is a good idea?"

Alex, if she was being honest, thought now was a better time than ever to keep Kara's homicidal alien aunt under wraps. To her, it was the only lie that was justifiable in the current situation and so she had and would continue to stand by her previous judgement. Frankie seemed to have some shit going on, she didn't need that piled on top of everything else. Even Winn, who Alex had taken to calling because he was far more likely to answer than her sister as of late, claimed that he too was noticing it.

Kara, seeming to catch every micro-expression Alex gave up, frowned. "She's my aunt, don't I get any say in this?"

"You do get a say, you're just choosing to follow my decision making."

"That's manipulative."

"It's not manipulative, you can tell her whenever you want."

Kara's expression, which was now a pout more than anything, seemed to only deepen. "I'll never understand your logic."

The conversation had, yet again, shifted beyond Alex's control. There was no hope that she could see of getting back on any productive track, and really, she didn't care enough to try. If Frankie wanted to be sad on her own, she could be sad on her own. If Kara wanted to ignore every issue pressing down on her and instead focus on the one thing that nobody else really wanted to talk about, then so be it.

If she had any choice, she would have gotten up and left, but Alex was a better sister than Frankie and knew that Kara wasn't done talking about her dad, even if the conversation had died the day he had.

"So, you're sure Frankie's not coming?" Kara asked, predictably rounding the discussion back to its beginning. "I still feel like we should go over there, check up on her."

If Alex was sure of one thing, it was that Frankie didn't want to be bothered. Kara didn't understand that. While she spent her time curling around Alex whenever she got sad, Frankie felt only a crushing desire to be left alone, and Alex was the same.

"She's got other things going on, you can't blame her for being tired and wanting to stay by herself."

Alex rarely fully agreed with what she said. There was no way Frankie was moving on, it was ridiculous to hope that at least one of them could get past the deep-rooted guilt and pain that showed up every time she thought about her dad.

The least she could do was admit she wasn't alright.

"Hey babe, any luck today?"

Frankie got up from where she was on the couch, phone in hand, to take some of the boxes out of Brad's hands. The closer she got to them, though, the stronger the smell of lobster got and she had to force herself to breathe only through her mouth.

Taking hold of several containers, she turned back to the counter, trying desperately to avoid the draught of cool air that was spilling in from the corridor outside. The autumn air in California wasn't overly cold, but the building had a strong preference for pretending it was the middle of summer all year round and Frankie was still getting used to it.

She deposited the boxes, along with her phone, next to the bowl of fruit that she was sure hadn't been touched in weeks and took a seat behind the counter.

"I thought I was cooking tonight."

"Yeah," Brad said, putting his own load down next to hers and going straight to the fridge for a bottle of wine. "But with your birthday next week and since I'll be in Atlanta, I thought it would be nice to just relax."

Frankie yanked the bottle from his hands and poured her own glass, making sure it was as full as she could get it without losing mobility. His smile was wider than it usually was this time of night and he seemed happier, but Frankie knew better than to push her luck.

Brad walked back over to the door and shut it with obnoxiously cheerful force. When he turned around, he was rubbing his hands together like he'd just planned a master jewel heist.

"So I was thinking we start with the shrimp, there's a feta salad in the box to your left," he said, pointing to the smallest container in the pile sitting just shy of Frankie's elbow. She quickly relocated it so that it wasn't in danger of being spilt on the floor. "Then we can work our way around to the crab and finish with the lobster."

Frankie picked up her glass, staring at the label stamped on the box of a restaurant she didn't recognise. "Where the hell did you get takeaway Maine lobster in National City?"

"It's pretty easy, there's a place across the river that gets its fish from a buddy of mine in Metropolis. It came down at a discount."

"So you networked your way into three hundred dollars' worth of seafood?"

"Whatever helps you sleep at night."

Watching him unload all of the food, it occurred to Frankie that he wasn't aware of anything that was happening. He'd gone out of his way to do something nice not because her dad was dead, but because he wanted to celebrate the days they had left.

It was a shame that things were about to get so much worse.

"You know that I can't eat crab, right?"

He stopped unpacking and turned to face her in disbelief.

"I'll take that as a no…"

"You're joking."

"I promise I'm not." She took a sip of the wine, trying not to visibly show how pleased she was at his choice. Apparently, he could pay attention to her order from their first date almost a year ago, but couldn't remember her dad's anniversary. But again, she was definitely not complaining about the anniversary, the less people who were going to bug her about it, the better.

He started to laugh, but from the way it sounded, Frankie was pretty sure Brad wasn't finding it very funny.

"What about the lobster?"

"I don't know, I've never tried it before," Frankie said, trying her best to swallow whatever wine was left while still savouring its taste. "Alex always said I was probably allergic to shellfish in general, but we never bothered to check because I always had such bad experiences with-"

"God, I try to do one nice thing, I swear."

Frankie got up and walked around the end of the counter until she was in front of Brad, taking his hands in hers. She didn't get a lot of time to be around people anymore, other than when they were trying to weed out every insecurity she had and use it as an excuse to leave her poor, and the one thing she missed was being the person that everybody came to when they just needed… a person.

She had Brad to go to when she needed to talk and from what she knew, his friends didn't seem to be the type for uprooting toxic masculinity.

It was an opportunity. She was seizing an opportunity, that was all.

"I'm sorry, I should have brought it up more." He didn't seem to be listening, so she let go of his hands and ducked down to get in his line of vision. "Listen, we can still have a nice dinner. If we pack this up now, we can keep it in the freezer and it'll stay good for-"

From next to the fruitbowl, Frankie's phone yet again started buzzing.

She almost didn't look, thinking it was probably Kara calling from the lobby or something ready to whisk her away for a night of crying after her dry reply to the messages before, but after catching Brad's frustrated expression, she turned to see who it was.

When she reached down to answer, Brad turned and stalked off to the bedroom.

"Winn, I've gotta call you back, I'm really sorry."

"Holy shit, I can't believe you actually answered." She couldn't help but feel a little bad for the amount of surprise in his voice. She hadn't spoken to him since his father had been killed. "Are you alright? Why did Alex say that-"

"I'm fine. I have to go," she whispered into the microphone, hanging up just as the sound of breaking glass rang out from the other end of the apartment.

A/N

I know I know it's a cop out throwing all the loose ends in a five month time skip but cut me some slack I'm really running out of time here this has been going on for almost three years I stg.

Side note if anyone's still here from the beginning, I bow down and salute you I would have given up so long ago if it were me

K bye