Title: Hello to Oblivion (ch. 2)
Fandom: RHPS
Pairing: Frank/Rocky
Disclaimer: RHPS belongs to the wonderful Richard O'Brien, not me.
Note: This fic is based on the assumption that Frank and Rocky both go to the same place when they die. Not meaning any offense to anyone who thinks otherwise, but just thought I'd warn you.
Love hurts. His father had told him that once, standing over him with a hand poised to slap. Frank was just beginning to realize how much. He, Frank, had always been the one accustomed to dishing out hurt and heartbreak, for how else was a one-night stand supposed to end? But now, for the first time, he felt the numb void that eagerly accompanied having one's heart frozen over with the knowledge of loss. He'd tried to bend this rule many times, but he knew deep down that you could not force someone to love you.
This place Riff Raff had sent them too seemed infinitely vast, and yet it seemed as though he couldn't get away from his creation. He was always there, standing in magnificent silence. Patience was not one of Frank's strongest qualities--but then again, what was there to say in a situation like this?--so he was almost glad when Columbia showed up.
The girl had evidently been reunited with her love, Eddie, and stopped cramming her tongue into his mouth long enough to snarl at him, "Well, you've killed both of us--are you happy?" Frank opened his mouth to protest, and closed it just as quickly when he noticed Eddie cracking his knuckles, a double dare he wasn't foolish enough to take. They vanished then, and Frank looked imploringly at Rocky, trying to decide what emotion sparkled in his blue-gray eyes.
"I don't think I'm ever going to understand everything about you," Rocky's voice was a welcome change to the tense silence he had come to expect, "And I'm certain there'll be a few things I'll never forgive you for. But I suppose we have to start somewhere, if we're going to be spending eternity together."
Hope successfully beat doubt into submission within Frank, and he managed to smile. "Well," he said, "Perhaps we can clear some of that up. What do you want to know?"
The question came immediately, without sympathy. "Who was your father?"