Frankie slipped and slid up the front sidewalk once her parents pulled up in front of Jackson's house and she dashed out of the backseat of the car. It was a freezing pre-sunrise and the slush from the day before had all frozen, but Frankie didn't care that she had fallen three times to get to the door. All she knew was she had to.
"Jackson!" she yelled through the front window, banging on the door. "Jackson it's me, open the door!" It flung open just as her parents came up behind her.
"Viveka!" Sydney exclaimed, standing there in her winter flannels as she and Frankie's mother embraced, messy tears secreting from them both. Frankie tore past them and sprinted into the front hall, where he appeared in his flannel pants and T-shirt he wore to bed, his eyes red-rimmed and wet behind his glasses. Flinging herself at him, he almost fell backwards as he caught her tall lithe frame, her uncontrollable shuddering having nothing to do with the cold.
"You came." Jackson's voice was so muffled in her shoulder and hair that she almost missed it. "I didn't think you'd make it. They'll be here soon to-"
"Stop it, stop talking like that," Frankie clutched him harder, her salty wet face brushing against his as she kissed the side of his head. "You're not going anywhere, I won't let them."
"I love you, Frankie-"
"Stop acting like we're saying goodbye!" Frankie cried out, her speech hitched with desperate hysterical sobs. Even she didn't believe what she was saying, but she couldn't bear seeing Jackson crying as hard as she was. "I won't let them take you!"
"We don't have any choice," Viktor's deep voice boomed through the hall as he approached the couple, intertwined so tightly it would take a pickax to pry them apart. "We must abide by the normies' laws or they'll arrest us all."
"I don't care, I'll go to jail too," Frankie declared.
"No you won't!" Viveka and Jackson shouted at the same time.
"Frankie, listen to yourself!" Viktor roared at her.
"Your dad's right," Jackson said in a cracked voice, "I'm ready to turn myself in, I always have been in case this got worse. And it got worse. That's it, it's over now."
"Frankie, I would take my son's place in a heartbeat if I could," Sydney added, her voice quivering from her own tears. "But even I can't protect him from this."
"I know, Holt needs to be punished, but not in the way they're going to," Frankie emphasized, wiping her eyes on Jackson's shoulder. "Who knows what he'll be sentenced to." Her dead heart clenched in her chest as they heard a loud knock at the door.
"Police! Open up!"
"Oh my baby," Sydney whimpered, stroking and kissing Jackson's hair as she took advantage of their precious moments left. Jackson embraced his mother tightly, feeling like a five-year-old waking up from a nightmare, before she broke away to answer the door.
"You'll be okay," Frankie sniffled as Jackson planted light kisses all over her face like he wanted to take in every last inch of her. "It won't be as bad as you think, I promise."
"You're lying," was all Jackson breathed out before sealing her lips with a deeply passionate kiss. They pushed themselves apart as they heard footsteps approaching from the open front door.
"I love you, too," Frankie was able to mouth before the police appeared before them. Her breath caught in her throat as she saw the sheriff pushing his way to the front of the group of men. The same sheriff who had tried to condemn Holt last Halloween.
"We meet again, little missy," he nodded at Frankie, an enraged glare in his eye.
"Don't do this," Frankie pleaded, but two of the police had already forced her away from Jackson.
"Sorry sweetie, but I got proof this time," the sheriff announced, whipping out his metal cuffs and slapping them on Jackson's wrists as he continued to speak. He didn't sound the least bit remorseful, he almost sounded...satisfied. "Wow, you really had me going for awhile with that little speech of yours last year. 'Monsters and normies aren't that different, we should all just get along.' How long did it take you to rehearse that spiel?"
"Would you just leave her alone?" Jackson said through gritted teeth over his shoulder at him.
"You don't talk unless spoken to, got it?!" the sheriff yelled in Jackson's face.
"Aren't you gonna read me my rights?" Jackson asked smartly.
"What rights, monster?" the sheriff replied scathingly, the half normie wincing as he hung his head.
"It's the truth!" Frankie insisted, swallowing the tears welling up in her throat again. "I wasn't making it up!"
"I got another pair of cuffs here if you don't zip your lip," the sheriff rounded on Frankie again. "You're not gonna be able to talk his way out of this one. And so you don't get any bright ideas, I'll make sure his punishment isn't public this time." Cornered on all sides, Frankie shut her trembling lips and lowered her eyes away from him. She looked up only as Jackson passed her while being shoved towards the door, holding his gaze for as long as she could until he was out of sight. She could hear Sydney shouting and begging from the doorway, but Frankie couldn't move. Feeling her legs give out under her, she backed herself against the wall and slid all the way down, drawing her knees to her chest as she buried her face. As cold and cruel as the sheriff was, he was totally right. She couldn't talk Jackson and Holt's way out of this one. Because this time he was guilty, and for more than just a couple of harmless pranks. There was absolutely nothing she could do for him.
She felt her body release all of its tense restraint as her anguish vocally made itself known, sitting curled up on the floor of Jackson's front room for who knew how long. Feeling her parents holding her on either side, Frankie barely registered their presence as she fell into an unfamiliar stage of heavy emotion she thought she remembered being referred to as "beyond consolation."
There wasn't a soul at Monster High, living or dead, who didn't know what had happened. Despite her parents' urging that she stay home from school on her last day before the howliday break, Frankie insisted that she needed to be around her classmates or she'd lose her mind. So she walked through the eerily hushed hallways later that morning with her head held high, completely aware that people were whispering behind her back, no doubt wondering what she was doing there acting perfectly natural. But there was no mistaking the emphasized politeness when she turned in hers' and Jackson's work to Mr. Hack, being unable to present to the class now, or the forced cheerfulness when she showed around the new monsters who would be attending school there in the coming semester.
It was Lagoona, who served with Frankie on the welcoming committee, who alerted Clawdeen and Draculaura to their friend's facade. Since Draculaura's father had sounded the alarm to the other monster parents that morning, tensions were running high amongst them on top of already feeling terrible for the way they'd treated Frankie a few days ago. Cleo had been spending the day with Deuce, who was possibly taking it just as hard as Frankie was, and Abbey had devoted her attention to Heath while Operetta retreated mournfully to the catacombs and hadn't emerged since the news had broken free first thing that morning. It was rather remarkable the different ways everyone dealt with a crisis, but Frankie was far too focused on keeping herself in control to notice much. And until lunch, she had been doing a pretty good job.
The next thing she knew, she was in the ghouls' bathroom sobbing into Clawdeen's brand new faux fur sweater.
"Frankie, you should've told us," Clawdeen said gently, running her clawed fingers through Frankie's long hair as Draculaura joined in rubbing her back. "There's no way you would've been able to shoulder this by yourself."
"My father said he didn't want-"
"I don't care what your father said," Clawdeen snapped at Draculaura. "We wouldn't have told anyone."
"It wasn't Dracula's word," Frankie gulped, taking the paper towels Lagoona handed her. "It was Jackson's I didn't want to break. He didn't want to worry anyone about Holt's stupid mistake."
"I can't imagine how awful it must have been, watching them drag him off," Draculaura wept copious bitter tears as she hugged Frankie tight. "I'm so sorry about the other day, Frankie. If I had known it was something this terrible-"
"We're sorry we tried to push you into telling us something you couldn't," Clawdeen nodded, flicking a tear from the corner of her eye with her talon fingernail as Lagoona continued to hand off paper towels to the rest of them. The door opened slowly but deliberately and Cleo stepped in, followed by Ghoulia.
"My father's coming home from Cairo tonight," she announced, stowing her phone back into her purse.
"What?" Lagoona's eyes widened.
"Apparently he deems this dire situation worthy of his attention and input," Cleo explained, then added under her breath "Bravo, Holt."
"Cleo!" Clawdeen hissed, indicating Frankie who was dabbing at her running mascara under her eyes.
"Frankie," Cleo began with a deep sigh, then gestured to Ghoulia who groaned out an apology from both of them. It was well known that the Egyptian princess never apologized for anything, and Frankie nodded at her in acceptance. "And you're off probation."
"I don't think she really cares about her position on the Fearleading squad right now," Clawdeen muttered, but Frankie had grown to understand Cleo's ways of trying to comfort and make amends. She was just trying to help, and that was all Frankie needed from her ghoulfriends right now.
"Well it is the end of the scaremester, why don't we all have a creepover at my house? It will help take your mind off of it."
"I don't want to take my mind off of it, I want to do something about it," Frankie clenched the soiled paper towels in her fist as she turned to face Cleo.
"We're monsters, we don't have any power with the normie authorities," Clawdeen growled. "We're total second class citizens to them."
"Excuse you, I am not a second class citizen to anyone if they know what's good for them!" Cleo scowled. "In fact, the whole reason Daddy's coming home is to see if he can pull some strings in Holt's favor!"
"Wait, what?" Frankie blinked, the first hopeful spark in ages rising up within her.
"Why would he do that?" Lagoona asked skeptically, familiar with the de Niles isolated ideals of superiority over other monsters.
"Because I asked him to," Cleo said simply, folding her arms across her chest in defense.
"You?" Clawdeen raised her thick eyebrows in disbelief.
"Cleo!" Draculaura exclaimed warmly, "That's, like, the nicest thing you've ever done!"
"Between Mr. de Nile and the Count, they just might have enough power to pull this off!" Lagoona said happily.
"It won't erase what's been done, but if they play their cards right it may soften the blow a bit," Cleo explained.
"You're making all of this happen for Jackson and Holt?" Frankie asked, still a bit perplexed. "Why?"
"Because I know that if the same thing happened to Deuce, you all would do anything you could to help me out," Cleo replied, dropping her diplomatic tone for the first time since entering the room.
"Frankie, after everything you've done for us," Clawdeen added, wrapping an arm around Frankie's shoulders, "We owe you big time."
Frankie was so grateful she didn't know what to say, so she shed some more tears as she embraced Cleo. "Thank you. All of you ghouls, I mean...I've felt so helpless trying to figure this out on my own. I just can't stand that this had to happen at all. I care about him so much."
"We know you do, mate," Lagoona soothed.
"I think we knew before you did," Draculaura said with a slight giggle.
"I'm kind of slow on the uptake when it comes to this love stuff," Frankie admitted, cracking a smile back at her.
"But when you feel it, ghoul, you feel it strong," Clawdeen said, blinking through her misty eyes. "And that love's gonna see you through this."
"Aw, never thought I'd hear that comin' outta your mouth, Clawdeen," Lagoona grinned.
"Yeah seriously, I dunno what came over me," Clawdeen muttered a bit disgustedly, and the ghouls shared a laugh. Frankie almost couldn't believe the entire conversation that had just taken place. After all of the hardship the past few days had caused, was there really a possible way out of this?
Say it
What?
Just go ahead and say it
I don't know what you're talking about.
Say Im a dumb screwup who cant keep it together! Only worse cuz I get u mixed up in it too
Well now I guess I don't have to, you just did.
Gee thanks
Holt, I'm sorry.
What the heck are U sorry for! Kill any1 lately?!
No I mean I'm sorry I get so mad at you over something you have trouble controlling. I mean, something I have trouble controlling.
Oh
Anyway, just needed to get that out before they take our phones away.
Aw glad u mean that Jackie boy. I guess Im sorry u gotta take the fall for my stupidity.
Forget it. It comes with the territory. I get that now. No one ever said being a monster was going to be easy.
Whaddya thinks gonna happen to us?
I really don't want to think about it. What concerns me is what we're leaving behind.
Mom, Heath, Deuce, Operetta, Clawd, the ghouls. Frankie. Man I wish I coulda seen her one last time
She couldn't do it, Holt.
Whaddya mean she couldnt do it?
Jackson? JJ?
It was with a significantly lighter heart that Frankie put her best efforts into the last Fearleading practice of the term. After talking with the ghouls in the bathroom, she had gotten a voicemail from her father saying that Jackson and Holt were being held in custody, but Count Dracula had ensured that the normie police would not harm him on the grounds that he was a minor. He and Cleo's father were going to fight to get Holt a fair trial, but in the meantime he and Jackson could receive one visitor at a time. Frankie had sighed and held the phone to her chest. They weren't out of the woods, but at least she could see him. Sure he was locked in a jail cell, but that was far better than any of the other horrible thoughts of what could've been happening to him swirling around in her brain all day. Frankie's heart was still breaking underneath her peppy school spirit at the thought of never being able to have a normal relationship with him again, but it was still better than the worst case scenario. Besides, this was not the time to be thinking about herself.
The other ghouls were keeping their eyes on her, staying nearby in case she needed a shoulder to lean on. Which was why Frankie had ducked out quickly without changing once practice was over. It wasn't that she didn't appreciate her ghouls' comfort and concern, she would have been truly lost without it, but their gazes shifting to her constantly was starting to make her a bit uneasy. Heading down the hallway, she passed the boys finishing up their own Casketball practice in the gym. She noticed Deuce, Clawd, and Heath all looking a little low energy and headed inside to stand beside Abbey, who was waiting for Heath to finish up.
"Fearleading practice good, yes?" Abbey asked her, and Frankie nodded. Then she sucked in her breath as the normally unaffectionate yeti girl hugged her unexpectedly. "Am sorry for everything. Must make your heart very sad."
"Yeah it does," Frankie admitted, returning the embrace. That image of watching Jackson being hauled out the door by the cops was probably going to haunt her for the rest of her unlife. "But at least he's just in custody for now."
"Hey Frankie," Deuce came up to them wiping his face with a towel, followed by Clawd and Heath. "My mom and Clawd's dad have been texting us all day. Is it true Holt might get a trial?"
"I sure hope so," Frankie said. "If he does, then at least there's a chance of reducing his sentence."
"Reducing it from what?" Heath asked, resting his arm around Abbey's waist as they stood close together. "They're not really gonna...there's no way they'd actually…?"
"Heath, they were gonna give him the Trick or Treatment just for a couple of dumb pranks," Clawd pointed out grimly. "Take a wild guess what they'll do to him for manslaughter, especially a monster-on-normie attack."
"Do not care if he slaughter dozen yaks," Abbey chimed in with a hard tone in her voice. "Does not be deserving of such harsh punishment. They say two wrongs not be making right, yes?"
"Unfortunately when it comes to us monsters, the normies don't see it that way," Clawd growled. "And they won't stop at Jackson and Holt, they'll do whatever it takes to get us all locked up. Or worse…" He left the sentence hanging and they all fell silent for a moment, Frankie crossing her arms as if she were cold, staring at the floor miserably. The far reaching consequences of this would continue long after Holt's fate was sealed. Their community would have to split up and move far away from Salem to avoid being dealt the same hand as her boyfriend. Monster High would be abandoned and Frankie would never see any of her friends again. It was enough to make her spark mournfully as she brushed a tear from her stitched cheek.
"Dude, Clawd, tone it down a little," Deuce said quietly, jerking his head in Frankie's direction. "She's got enough on her mind as it is."
"Yeah, sorry Frankie, really I am," Clawd shook his head, his wolf ears drooping in shame. "I think I should call home real fast and see if there's any news. I'll let you know if I hear anything."
"I as well," Abbey agreed as Clawd headed out of the gym, "Must talk to parents up in mountains." She squeezed Heath's hand before following the alpha wolf out the door, leaving Frankie alone with the boys.
"How have you guys been holding up?" Frankie asked, absentmindedly fiddling with the hem of her Fearleading uniform skirt.
"As good as I can, I guess," Heath sighed, his face falling into uncharacteristic sadness. "My parents are freaking out, Abbey's parents want her to move back home to be safe, no one's seen Operetta all day and - yeah, my cousin might die, so there's that."
"It's crazy, that's what it is," Deuce added, running a hand through his scalp of snake hair and resting it on the back of his neck. "One day you're creaming each other at video games, the next he's...not there anymore. It's scary, and not in a good way. How 'bout you?"
Frankie sniffled, wiping under her teary eyes so roughly she smudged her reapplied eyeliner. "I think I've cried more in the past twelve hours than I have in my entire unlife. I...I was there. I was with him for like five minutes before the sheriff took him away and it just tore me apart."
"With Holt?" Heath asked, his eyebrows raised.
"No, Jackson," Frankie replied. "I haven't seen Holt, not since he - he lied to me about what happened. It's too hard to forgive him, not only for what he did and what it's costing everyone, but for betraying my trust, too. But avoiding him on purpose like a coward makes me just as bad as him in a lot of ways."
"Frankie, I don't wanna pry into your relationship or whatever," Deuce began, resting a large hand on her shoulder comfortingly. "But you're gonna have to face him before his sentence. You know you have to, and you know he only lied because he didn't wanna cause you pain."
"It hurt more hearing it secondhand from Jackson. Well, not really secondhand, they're the same person."
"Man, all this over getting shorted on a check," Heath finally exhaled in exasperation. "If he hadn't been all frantic over saving up to buy you a Christmas gift this might not've-"
"Whoa hold it, what do you mean a Christmas gift?" Frankie's head shot up. Every new piece of information seemed to bring more bad news, and even though her heart couldn't take much more of a beating, her curious nature got the better of her.
"He didn't tell you?" Those were that last words she wanted to hear. "Those extra gigs closer to the howlidays? The whole reason he was taking them was so he could get you something special."
"Remember that necklace with the silver chain you were eyeing that one time with the ghouls at the Maul?" Frankie racked her brains until she drew her breath suddenly as it dawned on her. It was a gorgeous choker with a lightning bolt pendant dotted with real diamonds, engraved on the reverse side with the cursive words "You've pierced my heart." She had definitely expressed an excited interest in it, and Deuce nodded at her as he went on, "He was saving up to surprise you with it."
"Deucey!" a sing-song cry rang out as Cleo glided into the gym and latched onto his arm. "It's getting late and you promised to take me ice skating before Daddy gets home. I'd rather he not see us together, if you catch my drift." She looked over at Frankie with an air of confidence, "Don't worry Frankie, my father will make sure everything gets sorted out as it should."
"Yeah…"
"See you around Frankie, hang in there," Deuce smiled at her encouragingly as Cleo dragged him out the door towards the parking lot.
"Frankie?" Heath asked, looking at her shocked still stature. "You okay?"
"Yeah...yeah I'm fine…" Frankie replied dazedly. She wasn't. "Listen I - um - have to go do something right now." Without so much as a goodbye, she sprinted from the gym to her locker. Ripping her clothes out violently, she slammed her locker door hard, stooped down to pick up her detached hand that had popped off her wrist from the force, and ran to the ghouls' bathroom to change. There was only one way this whole thing could have gotten worse, and that way had come to pass. Those extra gigs Holt took on closer to Christmas, his anger at not getting the money he was promised, beating that normie to death, her being unable to be there to prevent it, the solitary confinement, the sheriff's words to her, the possible death penalty, all of it. No matter which way anyone sliced it, Frankie was always in the middle. All this time she'd been mad at the wrong person. Now thanks to Deuce and Heath, she knew who to blame. All of this had happened because of her.
And as much as she wanted to get home, fling herself on her lab table bed and weep countless tears until she short circuited, that was the furthest thing from her mind. She had caused this all to happen, and now she was going to be the cause that fixed it. Whatever it took, even if she had to sell her soul, no one was going to die on her account. Once Count Dracula and Mr. de Nile secured a fair trial, Frankie would spring into action. It wasn't going to be easy, and it wasn't much of a plan, but it had to work. It couldn't not work. The case just couldn't be that hopeless, and the world just couldn't be that cruel.
Sleep. That was pretty much all Jackson did since being shoved into this isolated jail cell with nothing but a stiff, cold and uncomfortable cot to keep him company. The only times he really felt awake were for meals and when his mom came to see him. He wished the sheriff would have left him alone with her while they talked, but naturally that was out of the question. The last thing a monster with blood on his hands would be permitted was privacy.
Judging by the position of the sun, it was almost evening and visiting hours would end soon. He sighed, stretching his long legs out on the mat and bouncing the back of his head repeatedly against the wall. Maybe the sheriff was keeping her from him. After the stunt they pulled springing Holt last Halloween, Jackson wouldn't blame him. Maybe he thought she was going to whisper some secret plan through the bars to Jackson in code or something, planning his escape. That was unlikely to happen even if she were here, Jackson thought glumly to himself. Frankie was smart, she thought things through and had a resourceful spirit, but there was no way even she could have a plan to stop this all from happening. Why didn't the sheriff just read off his sentence and get it over with? What was he doing, keeping him in suspense? He already knew what was coming.
His answer seemed to be coming quicker than he expected as the heavy door leading to his cage opened and the sheriff stepped in, closing it behind him. With a stern sort of half smile that didn't reach his eyes, he swung the key ring around on his index finger as he approached Jackson from the other end of the hallway, footsteps echoing ominously.
"Oh boy, do I get dessert too?" Jackson said sarcastically, a mocking excited smile playing on his features.
"Depends on what you call 'dessert,'" the sheriff said bluntly to his joke, jingling the keys until he found the right one and clicked open Jackson's cell bars. "You have a visitor, just in the nick of time."
"My mom again?"
"That preachy green girl with the stitches all over her."
"Better than dessert," Jackson exhaled happily, closing his eyes in contentment. Standing to exit the cell, the sheriff held up a hand to stop him and Jackson bumped right into it. "What?"
"She's not here to see you," the sheriff went on. "She wants to talk to the other one." Jackson was stunned for a moment before regaining his bearings, a hollow feeling of dread settling in his stomach. Was this it? Frankie was going to face Holt head on, all by herself? Did she really believe there was no hope for him and had to get out whatever she needed to say to his Hyde half before their time was up? He couldn't help his hand trembling slightly as he reached for the headphones the sheriff held out for him. Clamping them over his ears, the familiar transformation rush overtook him until he felt free, wild and expressive, so unlike him without the music in his ears.
"Uh oh, am I pushin' up daisies already?" Holt arched his pierced eyebrow worriedly.
"C'mon you, she's waiting and she's only got five minutes," the sheriff clapped him hard on the shoulder and pushed him forward back down the hallway and through the heavy door, leading him to a room he hadn't been in before, but possibly Jackson had. Several long tables were separated by a wall of glass, a chair set on each side of the table facing each other through the glass. At the furthest one on the opposite side sat someone Holt had hoped he'd see again but wasn't sure if he would, sitting in her black and white winter coat and looking downward at her folded gloved hands in her lap. Lacking the energy to exclaim joyfully, he just grinned as the sheriff plunked him unceremoniously down in the seat facing her.
"Five. Minutes." The sheriff emphasized each word directly into each of their faces, and Frankie slowly raised her eyes to meet him.
"Thank you," she said tightly in a tone that suggested politeness but didn't relish it. Once he retreated across the room to watch them from the far wall, Holt raked his eyes up and down his ghoulfriend, taking in every bit of her. She looked tired, a lot of makeup was covering her puffy eyes. Or maybe she'd been crying. He hoped not.
"Hey, my sweet Frankie Fine," Holt broke the silence, his normally high-volume DJ rocker voice cooled down to a suave and rather charming indoor voice.
"Don't call me that," Frankie nearly cut him off abruptly. She may as well have spit icicles at the glass, her tone was so icy. Holt backed away a bit, his flirtatious approach dissolving. Her worn eyes, one blue and one green, were now penetrating his red ones, narrowed into black mascara-coated fury. Her folded hands gripped tighter together in her lap as she began to breathe heavily in her chest. Holt caught on quickly that this was not going to be a pleasant visit where they would express their affections in hushed voices, grasping at each other's hands through the opening in the bottom of the glass against the tabletop, wishing their lips would meet. Frankie meant business, and she wasn't leaving until she accomplished that business. He gave her a slight nod that he was listening and she let the words drop, in a voice so deep in tone, so clashing to her typically buoyancy that had Holt not been looking her in the face, he wouldn't have known it was her.
"Do you have any idea what you've done?"
Holt nodded, "Yeah I do."
"You've risked everyone's safety."
"I know."
"You've risked the future of Monster High."
"I...I know."
"You lied to me."
"I..." The words stuck in his throat like peanut butter. "Frankie I didn't-"
"You looked me straight in the eye and you lied to me." Her voice had started to quiver, and she cleared her throat determinedly. Then she shrugged slightly, "What else have you lied to me about?"
"Nothin'." Thank ghoul he could say that with confidence. She squinted back at him.
"Beat anyone else up? Disturbed the peace? Made out with Operetta or Catty Noir behind my back?"
"No, Frankie," Holt said almost angrily. How badly had he compromised the honesty between them that she would accuse him of something like that? He leaned forward again, his breath fogging the glass. "You are my number one ghoul. You're the one who gets my heart, my kisses, my secrets, all of that."
"You didn't tell me everything that happened when I asked you to," Frankie shook her head. "Not about saving up for the necklace or almost killing a guy to get the money he owed you or any of that! No matter how bad it was, I just wanted you to be honest with me!"
"Frankie Fi - Frankie, I couldn't do that to you. It'd break your heart, and I didn't wanna be responsible for that. The first thing a dude promises when he asks a ghoul to be his ghoulfriend, besides makin' her happy, is he's never gonna break her heart. I did it for you, you gotta believe me."
"I don't know what to believe anymore."
"Believe me, Frankie, I'm your boyfriend!" Holt exclaimed, then dropped his voice back down when he caught the sheriff out the corner of his eye. "Believe me 'cause I love you. You don't have to love me back anymore, you don't even have to forgive me for what I did, but please just understand why I didn't tell you the truth." Frankie sucked in her lip as it started to shake, finally unfolding her hands. Leaning forward, she rested her elbows on the table. Then, very slowly, she inched her hand towards the opening in the glass, resting it there for him to take if he chose to.
"Of course I love you back," Frankie's voice broke as a single tear leaked out down her cheek. "This wouldn't hurt so much if I didn't. Even though it doesn't make it right and I don't agree with it, I understand why you didn't tell me the whole story. And..." She gazed at him for a moment, and Holt watched her frosty expression melt. He reached for her hand as more tears started to slide down her face, the anxiety at her confrontational attitude dwindling. She drew a shaking breath at last, "And I forgive you."
"Aw Frankie," Holt breathed out. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for all these screw-ups. I'm sorry I killed that guy. I didn't mean to, and it didn't matter how mad I was. And I'm sorry that my ghoulfriend has to get herself all mixed up in it."
"I know you are," Frankie nodded, her face crumpling. "I'm sorry, too."
"Don't cry, baby...please don't cry." Holt hung onto her hand with both of his, stroking it gently as Frankie dropped her head onto the table, weeping softly into her arm. It didn't take a genius to figure out this was something that had been plaguing her mind and heart for awhile, and finally letting go of all that stifled anger to him now was the best thing she could have done for herself. Whatever it took to cleanse her ailing heart from a hardship she didn't deserve to suffer through. "It's the Hyde thing, ya know?" he went on while she calmed herself. "Splittin' up the good and evil? I'm the evil. I always have been."
"You're not the Hyde he was," Frankie said hoarsely, soaking up her remaining tears in her gloves. "You're not evil, Holt. You just did something evil that you can never take back." She squeezed his hand right back, "I wouldn't have fallen for someone who was evil."
"Guess that's why I fell for you," Holt smiled, swiping at a tear in his own eye. "You're so good, and that brings out the best of me." Frankie closed her damp eyes as Holt leaned forward, pressing his lips against the glass where her forehead would be. "Can I at least get a little smile?" Despite her still pained glittering eyes, Frankie managed to upturn the corners of her mouth in his direction. "Yeah, there's my Fine Stein," he nodded satisfactorily.
"Just know that no matter how I feel about this...you don't deserve to die for it." Frankie pressed her own lips to the glass, leaving a deep red lipstick print behind as she pulled away.
"Time's up," the sheriff called, making his way across the room towards them, and they jerked their hands away from each other.
"So, we okay then?" Holt asked hopefully. Frankie pressed her lips into a thin line, having a serious debate with herself as the sheriff pulled Holt up from the chair by his arm.
"I love you, Holt Hyde," she said quietly, her voice dropping back down deeply. "And I'll support you, no matter what." She gazed right at the sheriff when she said this, and held his steely gaze for a moment before turning back to Holt. "But I am still so angry at you."
Holt was yanked roughly away from the table just as Frankie pushed back her seat and rushed out the door, her hand pressed to her mouth. He hung his head as his feet shuffled back to the cell, almost positive that that was the last time he was ever going to see her.