3|Returned
Emily's chapped lips sipped from a styrofoam cup of cold water. Her shoulders slumped, gunshots still ringing in her head. Authoritative figures rushing around her like a swarm of bees that wouldn't stop buzzing. She could feel the
unwanted stares drilling into the back of her head. Whispers of her past from years ago, drifted around her. They weren't even trying to hide it.
She didn't want to be reminded about how naive she'd been long ago. How if she did something earlier, the stares and gossips wouldn't be so intense. She never thought she'd ever have to step foot in the NYPD building again.
Here she is not having a clue what's going on, besides that man who tried killing Grotto. Who she had found out Steve wasn't his real name. Karen and him weren't married either.
It was now morning, and she was tired. But, also worried for her sister, and a small part of her worried about the conversation they had yesterday afternoon. The name that escaped Rachel's lips was a person she didn't want to hear about. It shouldn't
have been a surprise to hear Jacob was out of jail..again. It had been a habit for him, getting sent off to prison for the numerous restraining orders he disobeyed.
Hers being the first. Emily catches the sight of an blonde headed lawyer who was frantically making way through the many officers.
His eyes caught on her as well, "Emily I heard from Karen, I'm so sorry you got dragged into this."
She waves the apology off, "It's fine, not the first time my life has been threatened."
Foggy raises an eyebrow. Emily realizes what she said, "Its nothing, Karen is waiting for you, she needs you I'm sure." She points to the direction he was originally going.
He nods. He goes to walk away but stops, "Still up for that coffee?" Emily smiled lightly noticing how he was trying to lighten the mood. She would've laughed if it was more decent and non-stressful situation.
"Yeah, I'm still up for it."
He smiled then walked away, she was once again left alone.
Emily jumped as her phone vibrated, grabbing it from her pocket she expected it to be Rachel. But, instead it was an unknown number. It read: I'm coming for you for real this time, for real.
She stares at the phone with widen eyes, shrinking farther into her seat. She knew full well who it was, for the past four years every time he was out of jail he'd taunt her. She believed the texts were bluffs seeing as he never did anything.
"Em, how are you doing? It's been a while since I've seen Hell's Kitchen's blogger."
Quickly hiding the phone from prying eyes she met the stare of a fellow officer, a friend Emily liked to say. A dark skinned man stood in front of her, holding an orange folded piece of clothing; an outfit fit for a prisoner only. Brett Mahoney,
was one of the good guys in the world and there aren't very many. She remembered when she met him four years ago, he had been the one to respect her crisis. Didn't ask sensitive questions until she was ready.
"You wouldn't know, your surprising visits haven't been happening recently." Her eyes look at the clothing in his hand again. "That for me?"
Brett hears the attempted humor in her voice, shaking his head. "No this is for theGrotto guy. Why do something illegal?"
She smiles jokingly, "Might have a few bodies hidden in my apartment. Guess you have to arrest me, kind sir."
The two broke into quiet laughter.
"Listen Em, the men told me what you told them. You just happened to be there at the wrong time, you said?" Brett questioned, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder.
"Yeah, Rachel told me to check on 'Steve' while I was hanging out at her work." She tells him, looking him in the eye showing that she was not lying.
"All right, sorry about keeping you here all night, and the station questioning you, I know you hate that."
"They're just doing their jobs."
"Well, sometimes they don't take it easy with the questions. Now get home, get some rest, call your sister. If you need to talk you have my number."
"Thank you, Brett."
"For what."
"For caring how I feel."
"It's my job to care."
"I don't think your job description says anything about random visits, how they're doing for the past four years. You know what people call someone who do that?"
"What do they call them, Andrews?"
"A friend."
As Emily walks out the building, she misses the smile that grew on his face.
Emily had been on the phone with Rachel, for an hour, trying to convince her that she was fine, and that she didn't need to come over.
"Rachel, I'm just glad you're okay," Emily says.
"You were the one who was shot at!"
"Yes, I know I was shot at!"
"And you could've died!"
"I'm aware of that too," Emily huffed. "I'm exhausted Rach, I'll call you later okay?"
That night as she falls asleep, she doesn't register the sounds of Frank's dog, Max barking. Meaning the person who entered Frank's apartment wasn't Frank.
Emily woke up sweating buckets, her chest heaving. Her hair sticking to her face. It was close to midnight, and her dreams were filled with verbal arguments to physical ones, and she wasn't the one being physical.
"How long has it been since your last nightmare?" A gruff voice asks from her bedroom doorway. She let out a frightening shout, shrinking back until she meets the head board of her bed. Her clammy hands went for her phone that she had set on
the nightstand, beside her bed. Only to find it not there. She felt her throat close up, and finding it harder to breath.
Light flooded from the ceiling light, and the sounds of boots are heard through the room until they reach her bed.
"Emily-" rough hands grabbed her wrists gently, "Its me, Em." His hands move up to grasp her by her shoulders. The blogger finally took in a familiar face, the man's brown eyes looked at her with a hint of concern.
As her breathing went back to normal, and she composed herself, she sent Frank an angry glare.
"What are you doing here? It's the middle of the night!" She declares in a high pitched voice.
He grumbles,"Rachel told me what happened,I came to check on you." Frank admits.
Her lips parted,"And you couldn't have the decency not to maybe," she throws her hands out above her head,"I don't know, not show up in the middle of the night?"
She stops her rant, and takes her precious time in observing his current state. His right bicep was covered in a bit of blood, but the small wound was stitched up. By him most likely; that didn't settle well with her. Knowing that he's probably
hiding away in his apartment tending to his troubles;alone. She knew what it was like to go through something all alone; and it was stressful, and could be life threatening if you did it seek for help.
Frank noticed the observant look on Emily's face and decided to question her again.
"When was your last nightmare,Em?" He asks, looking at her as he sits on the side of the bed. It was his turn to be the observant one.
The ex-soldier noticed the still frightened look in her eyes; no doubt from the nightmare. Her blue orbs, bloodshot and pink from crying in her sleep, which she had yet to notice. Emily wore an oversized black hooded sweatshirt, that had the
words in fancy cursive writing, first, I'll have a coffee.Beneath it was a mug of coffee. It had originally been a gift for Frank, when they were in their early twenties. He refused to wear it; but she'd catch him wearing it around
his house, a few times, which then turned into all the time.
He remembered how her face lit up at the sight of him wearing it. But, her smile almost became non-existent. At the age of twenty-five, Emily met the man she would think to be the one for her. Jacob Kane, had the looks that made any woman swoon.
But, the man happened to be the worst thing to happen to Emily. Jacob made her life miserable, for three long years.
When she escaped from the cruel man, who was sent to jail for breaking a restraining order in which the event put her in the hospital for a month; he gave her the article of clothing to remind her of him, when he went off to fight in the war
as a Marine. Then told her to stay with his family, wife and two kids; watch over them while he was gone.
She had sobbed so much, that he couldn't help but shed a few tears too. She promised him she would, his family was her family. They had done so much for her. She wanted to do something in return.
She looks at him, fumbling with the hem of the shirt,"A year ago, maybe." She mumbles.
"And do they start every time he gets in contact with you?"
"How did y-"
Frank revealed her phone that was in his hard grip. Emily felt her heart drop, he wasn't supposed to see that.
"How did you get into my phone? Speaking of getting into things, how'd you get in my apartment, I took your key." She defensively demands.
"It wasn't hard finding out your passcode, it was your birthday, which happens to be on Christmas Day," He states, with a roll of his eyes. "And I might've picked your lock."
"You picked my lock?" She repeats questionably, then a curious look appears, "Did that come with being a Marine?"
"Something like that," he chuckles. But then goes back to the task at hand. "Emily, seriously, has this asshole been taunting you for the past few years? Penalty is a year in prison every time someone breaks a restraining order." He spits out."Which
mean he's broken four, including yours. Yours also being the very first."
"He's bluffing, he's never actually done anything, it's perfectly fine."
"That's a load of bullshit right there, Em, and we both know it. What if he's not messing around? What if he decides to pay a visit when I'm not around to save you?" He points out, his eyes darkening at the thought of Jacob laying his hands
on her.
"I don't want to think about it," She blurts, her eyes glazing over. "And you bringing it up is not helping."
She looks away, blinking constantly to get rid of the tears. "If you want to talk about problems, let's talk about yours. Huh, what about the problem with all the coming around with fresh cuts and bruises?"
"Emily stop-"
"No, I will not stop!" Emily's voice cracks; she can't take it anymore. Every time she thinks she's better and that she's healed. He comes back to remind her that no matter what, he was always hiding in a corner waiting for her to think it's
safe.
She finally broke; the sound of weeping echoed through the apartment. Frank couldn't help but take hold of both of her hands in his, in aattempt of comfort. Seeing as he hasn't comforted anybody in a long time. By, as he watched the girl
sob, he could feel himself break more than he already was.
Emily suddenly felt two strong arms wrap themselves around her small figure, she welcomed the gesture by throwing her arms around his shoulders; burying her forehead into his neck.
If anyone saw this they'd describe it as two broken souls, who didn't know how to fix themselves; but are still trying to fix each other.
Emily woke up in a fetal position curled on her side in a ball. She wiped her cheeks to find the feeling of tear stains. She had an image of how terrible she looked. As Emily pushed herself out of bed, she realized she had work.
Tiredly scrambling out of her room she threw on her uniform, and freshened up as much as she could to make it look like she was doing fine.
She shoves some toast in her mouth, and takes a huge drink of coffee not caring how hot it was, then she was off to work.
As Emily walked through the glass doors of the diner, she jumped as she was met with the excited cries of the familiar owners of the Midnight Diner.
"You're okay!" Denise shouts, rushing over to Emily and gathering her into her arms. Emily laughed, blushing as random strangers turned their attention to her. Then there came Charles who was blubbering incomprehensible things as he too squeezed her
in an embrace. The old married couple went from gushing on happily that she was alive to straight out scolding her.
"You were just shot at by that vigilante, Punisher. Which I'm not so sure is a vigilante, after shooting at a sweet girl like you." Denise rants on, she starts shoving Emily towards the door.
"You shouldn't be here stressing yourself out, more than you already are, young lady." Charles continues for his wife. "You should take the day off."
And with that she was shoved out the diner, not having a clue of what just happened.
She laughs shaking her head, walking back towards her apartment. Sending a quick glance back she saw the two crying with joy that she was not hurt.
She wondered how she could deal with the two.
One thing was out of place when she walked towards her apartment room. Max was barking like nuts, and Frank's door was wide open, like someone had kicked it open.
"Frank?" She whispered, "Is everything okay?"
She stopped, her heart caught in her throat. There was five men standing in her best friend's apartment, and none of them looked to happy.
But, she had enough time to notice the numerous cans of opened dog food. One having a spoon in it. She could feel the bile rising, Frank had been eating that. He didn't even bother asking for food. She would've gladly helped.
But what her eyes caught on the most, was a gun laying across the table, along with ammo, and radios.
This is why he never let me in his apartment. Because, he was hiding this from me.
She started to piece it all together, they weren't from bar fights. They were battle wounds. He had gotten into some mixed up shit.
"What's a pretty girl like ye, associating with lads like this one?" An Irish accent asks.
After that she feels two men grab her, dragging her out of the building along with the dog. She screams and shouts; thrashing in the man's arms but knowing she couldn't get away.
As she was shoved into a car, a man watched as two close weaknesses of his are being put in danger because of him.
Sorry for the long wait hope you liked it!
-Amber
