Family Reunion (Frank)

[Emma Anderson]

Earlier That Day.....

Emma made her way through the hall and toward the cafeteria. She needed to find her brother and give him a note that her Mom had given her this morning to give to him. To be honest, she was not sure why the woman wanted her to do such, especially considering how things had gone between Frank and their Father that day that she had found out he was here at the school. She had thought she would never hear the end of it, but once they had left the school that day, their Dad, nor their Mom had uttered a single word about him.

That had been three days ago, and to be honest, the fact that she wasn't getting anything was starting to bother her. Even when she had tried to talk to their Mom, to find out if it was true what Frank had said about the letters and presents, the older woman would just shake her head, say she didn't have time right now, and walk away. It was frustrating to say the least.

Then today, out of nowhere, she handed Emma a letter on her way out of the door and told her that she wasn't to open it, just to take it to Frank and then get to class. Which, that was probably a lot easier said than done. All Emma wanted to do was open it and see what it was about, but she also didn't want to get in trouble for disobeying. No, she was a little scared of her Father and his temper still. Her small hand moving to softly rub her bicep where those dark bruises still remained from the way he had grabbed her that day. Of course, nobody saw them, and she didn't tell anyone. She just didn't want to cause trouble where it was not needed, and she didn't think it was a big deal. Just an accident. Just something done in the heat of the moment due to the shock of seeing her talking to Frank, who as far as they all knew, was long gone and never coming back. Dad would never have hurt her on purpose. Right?

Her mind playing that over, along with a few other things, as she worked her way toward the cafeteria doors. Most of all, she was concerned about what was going on with her parents lately. The past few days, ever since that day, they had been acting so strangely. Her Mom seemed more depressed than ever, and her Dad seemed to have withdrawn more into himself. It was like somebody had died, and yet, she couldn't think of what or who would have made thim feel that way. Surely it was not just because Frank was here. Or could it?

A frustrated little sigh given as she shoved open the cafeteria doors and quickly looked about for her brother. It hadn't taken long, and once she found him, she would hand him the letter, with his name written clearly upon the front of the envelope. She had then taken the notepad around her neck and written down a simple explanation for him. Mom told me to give it to you. A little nod given, the watch on her wrist vibrating and telling her that the bell was about to ring, which, unknown to her, it did a few seconds later. I have to get to class, I have a test today. I will see you later okay? Rolling up onto her tip toes and pressing a kiss to his cheek before spinning around and running off toward the exit so that she could get to class. Still curious about the letter, but figuring she could track him down and ask him later on. Though she never did get the chance. By the time she was done with school, her Mom was there, surprisingly, to pick her up, asking if she had given the note to Frank with a look of apprehension in her gaze. To which, of course, Emma had said yes, and then, just like that, she had been ushered out of the building and into the car...left to wonder what the hell was going on.

The Letter.....

Dear Frank,

It has been so long since I last spoke to you, and I can't say that I am not sorry about that. I wish things could have worked out differently, but after the way things went between you and your Father, and then with everything that has happened to Emilia Rose, it is something that could not be helped. I am still sorry though.

I heard about the altercation with your Father the other day concerning Emilia Rose, though I have to say that I am not surprised. You both have always been so headstrong, that it is no wonder you do not get along all that much. I understand he was drunk, and though I am not happy that either of you scared Emilia Rose that way, I can see why you behaved the way you did.

But enough about all of that. I am sure you are wondering why, after all these years, I am writing to you. Well, the truth is, it is about Emma, as you like to call her. It is actually very important, concerning her health. I know that this probably doesn't make much sense to you. After all, why would we want to talk to you now about it, when over the past eleven years we have not even tried, but the truth is, we have no other choice. Please come by our house tonight at [insert address here] around seven o'clock. We can have dinner and discuss what is going on. I cannot stress how important it is that you show up. Please Frank. If not for us, then at least do it for her.

Your's Truly,

Mom

[The Fearless Sausage Cook]

It had been three days since he had seen Emma last. That in of itself was killing him, let alone how that meeting had ended. Frank wanted to go to Emma to talk to her, as a brother, to get back into her life, but he figured after this last incident it would be better for everyone to let her come to him. Especially after their father ripped her away, or at least tried to. Though Frank loved her and was dying to talk to her, had been for the last three days, he didn't want to make things any worse for her back home. That would be counter productive to everything that he wanted here.

While the appearance and actions of his father did concern him greatly it only furthered his cause of wanting to ensure that Emma was safe and didn't have to have the surgery. Drunk dad appearing at school and ripping her away? Although Frank hadn't seen any bruises he was sure that they were there. There were cameras at the school, so he figured that this was more evidence in his favor. He might not even need to call in a favor to get this thing rolling, that was of course if Emma didn't want the surgery after all. But then there was one other thing that had been eating away at him quite severely about that incident. As Frank thought about it he heard that voice again.

"She is adopted huh? Ever stop to wonder why the fuck she looks like you then!?"

As Frank worked, his mind was quite preoccupied with those words. Those had to be ramblings of a drunk man, right? Nonsensical, try and be angry make you miserable words. The words weren't really angering, nor did they make him miserable but he had spent a considerable time thinking about them. Because there was a cold logic in them. If she was adopted why did she look like him? Of course he hadn't seen it when she was five but that was to be expected, or so he figured, assuming that there was truth in his drunk bastard of a father's words. Unfortunately even Frank couldn't deny the similarities. But he was only thirteen years older then her. Sure he had slept with a girl, and so the wheels had been turning, even if she disappeared. But there was a looming question at the back of his mind. If this was true why wasn't he ever told? Especially after the accident? Furthermore why would the girl disappear, never tell him but give Emma to his parents?

Frank gave a frustrated sigh at the thoughts. This was all so confusing, so complicated. If it was true then he had been at the point where he thought that his parents couldn't stoop any lower. But if that drunk was telling the truth, this was a new low. And it was the silence now that was killing him.

When Emma walked up to him and handed him a letter he took it, surprise in his face as he read the explanation. Looking at her a little confused that Mom would have a note for him, after all this time. It wasn't until later that he'd get annoyed about that but for now he looked at Emma confused. But before he could get anything else from her she said she had to go, class and a test. Frank frowned slightly disappointed but said, "Good luck, I have your art book and your picture"

But she kissed him hand ran off before he could get out the second part. And so he was left to read the letter, and hope he's see her later on in the day, which of course he wouldn't, not at school at least...

6:58 PM...

Frank gave a slightly annoyed sigh as he got out of his car. His mother had only managed to frustrate him further as the day went on. She doesn't talk to him for eleven years, doesn't reply to him, hides his letters from Emma. And now out of the blue she wants him over for dinner? Why the fuck should she care now? And this bullshit answer of how after everything happened with Emma, she couldn't be bothered to reply? How long did it take to write something? Email, anything? Certainly this letter didn't take her eleven years to write.

And then was she actually defending his father? She was almost acting like he hadn't been drunk. And when she did mention it by omitting her condemnation for his actions, at least more so then his, she was using it almost as an excuse for his behavior. A justification.

But his frustration would boil to anger at her last paragraph. She was damn right, this didn't make sense to him. After all these years why would she want him involved in Emma's health concerns? She couldn't be bothered to tell him that she got into an accident and was deafened. Why now? But what made him the most irate was her saying they didn't have any choice. That that was the only reason he was getting involved now. As if his sister's health wasn't of any concern to him before. But Frank was no idiot. His mind had been racing to figure out what that meant. Sure with dear drunken daddy's words he had a possible idea but he didn't want to jump to conclusions over what a drunk man had said, least of all his spiteful father. So he sighed, calming himself instantly, knowing no good would come of it anyway, getting out of the car, grabbing Emma's picture and art book and heading to the door, knocking at exactly

7:00 PM.

Promptness was the sign of a military man, or so they said, something that Frank had taken to heart over the years. Especially when being exactly on time could make the difference of being dead or alive. Being early just as bad as being late. Though it didn't really apply here, it was just a habit he had picked up from his time in the marines, drilled into him year after year.

When the door opened he would see his mother and say, civilly and nothing more, nothing less, "Hello Mother."

As opposed to Mom as he had called her his entire life...

[Emma Anderson]

Emma was on the couch, her history book sprawled out across her lap and her hand busily writing down her answers to the questions at the end of the chapter. She had been told to stay out of the kitchen tonight, which was odd since that was usually where they had her do her homework, but she didn't think much of it, just went to the couch and got busy. However, she couldn't help but notice a few very odd things...like how Dad wasn't lounging around drinking some kind of mixed drink. Or how Mom had on her pearl earrings that she only ever wore for special occasions. All of that struck Emma as a bit off, yet any time she tried to snag one of her parents attention, she got a wave of their hand and a sign saying Do your homework. So, that was what she did.

But things really got weird when suddenly her Mom would rush from the kitchen, fixing her hair in the hallway mirror before wiping her hands on her dress. She was clearly nervous, and as she moved toward the door, Emma couldn't help but set her book aside and sit upright to pay attention, her brow furrowing slightly as she tilted her head to try and get a better look at the door once it was opened.

Though, when it did open, nothing really could have prepared her for what she saw. Never in a million years had she been expecting Frank to be here, and though it shocked her, she couldn't help but let out a little soft sound of happiness and hop up from the couch, quick to toss her book aside as she hurried toward the door. Yet, before she could get there, to even say hello, her Dad was in front of her, cutting her off and shaking his head. No. You need to go to your room. Take your books and finish your homework in there.

The words getting a confused look from Emma as she looked at him, and then past him toward her brother who she could now see speaking with Mom. The entire thing not making any sense to her, and her hands would raise to quickly ask her Dad what was going on. But before she could even finish the first word of her question, he would snap his fingers so that she could see them, and then point toward the stairs which led up to the second floor where her room was.

That usually meant that he wasn't playing around, and so instead of trying to argue with him, she would sigh and lower her eyes slightly. A slight nod given in agreement before she would glance back toward Frank and give a little saddened wave over her Dad's shoulder, before turning and heading to grab her books and then slowly trudging her way up the stairs to her room. The sound of her door shutting echoing down to the first floor a few moments later.

"Frank! It is so good to see you!" Their Mom shooting forward before there could be much protest and wrapping her arms around him. A quick, brief hug before she would step back and motion for him to come in. "Honey! Frank is here!" Looking around for their Dad as the door was shut and she would rush by him in a flurry, clearly a bit overwhelmed to have him here after all this time.

Soon enough, their Dad would appear, after having sent Emma to her room, clearing his throat as he nodded toward his son and looked down toward the floor just a bit. "Frank." Of course there was no apology for the other day, because he was far too proud, but even if he had tried there was no time. Their Mother rushing to usher her son into the living room, motioning toward the couch.

"Please sit. So tell me what have you been up to? You are good I hope?" That smile on her face though there was something clearly different about the woman. She looked tired, worried and stressed. "Sad eyes" like Emma had said, and much like their Father held as well. Taking up her own seat beside her husband, she would place her hand on his leg, putting forth the image of the happy family....as was the act they had been pulling for years.

"I am so glad you came. I know this must have come as quite the shock. I mean you can imagine my surprise when I heard you were here, and at Emilia Rose's school no less. How....lucky." A bit of hesitation, though she tried not to let that bubbly, chipper tone fade. "Dinner should be ready in about twenty minutes. Would you like something to drink?" Clearly she was flustered, as was proven by the rush of words, though it was also clear she was trying to avoid something, though what it was, well that was anyone's guess.

As for their Dad. He sat silently with his hands on the back of the couch and his eyes focused upon his son, a casual glance to his wife every now and then, an apprehensive look about him that seemed to say he was on edge, but nothing more. At least not right now.

[The Fearless Sausage Cook]

As the door opened his mother was the least of his concern here, his eyes instantly looking for Emma. The only one that he really cared about here, at least at this point in time. Finding her being cut off by their father who was signing something to her, something he didn't quite understand but was getting the general gist of, especially when those fingers were pointing upstairs. Frank had started to learn sign language, since he found her those three days ago, but it had only been three days, so you really couldn't expect anything. As she started to move to her room, Frank would give a weak smile and a wave at her wave because as the letter had said, she was really the only reason that he was here. Not for his mother or his father, attention only turning back to them once she was out of sight.

As his mom greeted him with that hug saying how good it was to see him or whatever, he wouldn't move to hug her back, nor would he say the same. He wasn't going to lie. Sure, he'd be civil, up to a point, but he wasn't going to pretend that nothing had changed. That they were just as close as they were before he had been kicked out. He wasn't going to pretend that this was a normal occurrence because it wasn't. Frank knew the truth. The only reason that he was here was because apparently he had something they wanted. He was sure that once he gave that up things would go back to business as usual. Go back to shunning him, or there was the possibility that everything would remain peachy, so long as he continued to do what they wanted and that was something he wasn't really interested in anymore.

As he was invited in he nodded curtly to his father. Glad that at least he wasn't trying to pretend that nothing had happened or that they were one big happy family. Not that that mere fact made them friends or did anything for their relationship but still. It was just that, at least he wasn't pretending. Frank was still pretty pissed about what he did the other day, so he figured, well at least he's sober.

As he was ushered into the living room Frank would take up a spot on the love seat, face still blank as he watched his parents try and play house. But the look on their faces said everything. Those "sad eyes" as Emma had described them, along with everything else he knew easily giving away the fact that this was no happy family. Because further still, if they were, then why would he only be here now? Those all of those thoughts that were running through his head he hid in that neutral expression. Though to answer her question Frank would casually reply, no venom in his voice, deciding to play along with the act that they seemed to be trying to put forth, if only to point out the absurdity of it, "Oh did you not get my letter? I sent you one before you moved last month like I usually do."

Pointing out the fact subtlety that he had been sending letters every month for years. But he'd let his mother keep up this charade as long as she could, seeing that she was working hard to not crack and there was a mild amusement to that, which helped to calm his anger. Finding it amusing that she was commenting on the luck of her and Emma were in the same school. Though Frank had to muse that when she meant luck she meant their good fortune. As she asked if he wanted a drink his reply would be a polite, "Water's fine."

Noticing their tension and apprehension in the air, quite amusing to him. So he decided that he was going to play it cool, until they cracked. Figure out exactly what it was that the wanted from him. Maybe make the occasional remark here or there, alluding to the fact that not everything was normal. Who knew? He was just going to play along for now, keep his emotions in check and figure out what the hell was going on, with all of this...

[Emma Anderson]

Hurrying to the kitchen, their mom would reappear not long after with a glass of water, handing it to him and flashing him a little smile in the process. "Here you go." Once he took it, she would move to take up her previous seat, her tongue softly darting over her lips as she struggled to come up with something....anything to say. "So how have you been? I mean, we got your letters, its just, Emilia Rose has been struggling so hard with everything, we weren't sure how she would handle hearing from you. It isn't that we didn't want to tell her....."

Babbling rather quickly, hurrying to try and explain herself, to explain her actions. Though she wasn't sure what else she could say. She was trying her best to avoid speaking about what needed to be spoken of, avoiding the topic like the plague, but in the end, she would reach over to the end table near where she saw and pull forth a single white sheet of paper along with a pen, her hands shaking slightly as she did so.

"Look, I know you must hate us, and you have every right to...but this isn't about us. Its about Emilia Rose, and I know that you do care about her. If you would just...." Her hand pressing the paper to the coffee table, face up, and sliding it toward him along with the pen. It was a medical consent form, one that said both her and his Father would have medical consent to whatever was best for Emma..."Well if you would just sign this real fast, we can go ahead and get on with dinner and you can be on your way. I am sure you have a million things you would rather be doing than sitting here and its really pointless to drag it out longer than need be over a silly piece of paper....A formality really." She shrugged, pulling her hand back and folding it together in her lap with the other, her eyes casting a nervous glance toward her husband, looking for him to help on what else to say here.

"Look, you were always a bright boy, I am sure since my little....umm....outburst...the other day, you have put two and two together. So, why don't you just do what is best for Emma and sign?" His gruff, uncertain voice, coming across the room as his eyes finally turned toward their son.

As for Emma, she had snuck out of her room and was hiding on that one spot on the stairs where she was just able to make out some of what was being said, reading their lips carefully, and where they couldn't really see her if she held still. Though as they continued to speak, she became more and more confused....She was only catching bits and pieces, what with all their movements, and yet she was sure that what she was reading, she was reading wrong. Her hands gripping the railing of the banister as she leaned into it tightly...silently....desperate to see what else they had to say, to make sense of this, to find out what any of this had to do with her, or more importantly, what that paper was about and why they needed Frank to sign it. What had her Dad said that day? What was going on here? Her heart racing as she tried hard not to move, not to give herself away just yet. She had to know, she just had to.

[The Fearless Sausage Cook]

"Thank you," Frank would say politely, taking the glass of water and sipping from it.

Calmly he'd listen and look on to that bullshit she was trying to feed him. Asking trite questions, at least, in the sense of their relationship at this point. Giving excuses on Emma's behalf. Then there was the lying, and that was fun. The only expression that came from Frank's face was those eyebrows raised in a look of disbelief, the question really not needing to be vocalized. The one that asked "you really expect me to believe that?"

But Frank would remain silent, knowing that everything that his mother was doing was a stalling move. One that was meant to avoid the awkward inevitability of what was coming up. Asking him for something that only he could give, knowing that after being shunned for however long that it was an impossibly tall order. What it was that he could do was still a question that he quite honestly wanted the answer to, but he could wait. After all these years it was amusing to watch his mother flounder. But eventually she'd stop floundering and slide a piece of paper and a pen over, one he was supposed to sign apparently. Eyes widening slightly as he read the words, medical consent form. So, perhaps his father wasn't lying or telling some drunken story yesterday.

His eyes rose once again as his mother spoke, spit firing out her words, saying whatever to get him to sign it quickly, assuming that he didn't want to be here. Trying to avoid the quite obvious truth that was just presented, apparently not caring to elaborate on something he had never known about. Explain why, or anything really. And now they just expected him to hand over consent, after everything that had happened? hmmmm. And then Father spoke up, confirming what he was beginning to be sure about. But it was that last little question that got to Frank.

"You see, I'm not really sure that surgery's what's in Emma's best interest," Frank said bluntly, "She doesn't seem to want it, she seems okay with where she's at. Probably something that you would have noticed if you stopped feeling sorry for yourselves and drinking, but hey, that's just me. Also I don't like the sound of all those risks for something that isn't guaranteed. Sounds to me like this surgery is more in your best interest then hers."

And that wasn't even getting into the, how could you hide this from me shit, which in case you were wondering was not why he was hesitant to sign, "In fact I have to wonder what exactly you believe her best interests are? Because certainly they weren't keeping my letters away from her for eleven years. Not after the crushing guilt she felt thinking that it was her and not you that drove me away Dad. The letters would have kept that feeling away, but of course you were to busy letting our problem between ourselves get in the way of realizing how Emma must have felt to think about what was best for her there, so why should I trust you here."

After his little rant Frank would pause, the question just tearing at him too hard to let it go right now. So he'd ask, annoyance in his voice, controlled, keeping it from coming out as just anger, "But I do have to wonder, why didn't you tell me until now? Well that's obvious because I have something I can give you. But what I really mean is, why not even before I left? Why did you just let me walk away without knowing? But then I realize it is Dad sooo...."

[Emma Anderson]

"HEY!" His Dad rising to stand, anger showing in his expression as that last bit spilled forth about him. He had allowed his son to rant and talk, but being disrespected in his own home was something the man was just not about to put up with. Though quickly his wife would grasp him about the arm and attempt to jerk him down onto the couch once more. Hurrying herself to try and come up with some form of reply to all that Frank had said.

"Emilia Rose doesn't know what she wants Frank. She is a sixteen year old girl who has spent more than half her life in silence, she doesn't understand what she is missing. We are her parent's we have raised her, we know her." She nodded, her hands a bit shaky as she inched forward on the couch and leaned in toward the coffee table, eyes looking over the paper, she knew she had to continue, but that didn't mean she wanted to.

"Look. We never told you because you were so young and when that girl called the house, to tell you that she was pregnant, well...you weren't there at the time and she blurted it out to us. She said she couldn't keep the baby, and then when we spoke to her Mother we all decided it would be best for both of you if we just....didn't tell you. That it would be best for Emilia Rose." She was very flustered now, her tongue nervously flicking over her lips as she worried her hands over her dress, trying to remain as calm as possible.

"Honestly, you could not have handled being a Father to her Frank. We just wanted to spare you, and its a good thing we did, I mean look at how things ended up. You were gone, and we got to raise her properly. Now just sign the paper, and just do something for her." She wasn't trying to make it sound like she thought that he was a bad person, only that he could never have taken care of an infant, he was so young at the time, and it had been one big accident.

"Just let us take care of her. She doesn't need to know you are her Father, nor does she need to know anything about this little conversation. Last thing that girl needs is to know she was nothing but a mistake." Not meaning it to sound harsh or mean in any way, but about five seconds after he said it, the sound of a door slamming shut upstairs would be heard.

She had not seen everything they said, but she had seen enough, and as she felt the heat of her tears rolling down her face, she would grab her sweater and quickly throw open her window. It didn't take long, being the daring girl that she was, to exit and escape down the side of the house. Though not before taking that ear piece from her dresser and throwing it as hard as she could into the wall, breaking it apart. She didn't want to ever hear a single thing again, not when apparently all she had been fed for the past sixteen year was lies.

"Emilia Rose!" Their mother the first off the couch and up the stairs, at the door in an instant and trying to get it open. She couldn't of course, seeing as how it was locked, and yelling did not good, since clearly, Emma couldn't hear. No, by the time they got the door open, Emma was long gone. Too shocked and confused and scared of everything she had just seen to think straight and just needing to get out....even if she didn't know the city very well, she just had to get away.

[The Fearless Sausage Cook]

As far as Frank was concerned his father had lost any respect he might of held when he refused to acknowledge Frank as his son simply because he didn't want to run the family business. And his standing lessened over the years and all the shit that had gone on, now being the boiling over point. So if his dad wanted to start something, that was fine by him. Frank would damn well end it, this drunk wouldn't know what hit him. But alas, his mother stopped his father before things could, how you say, get ugly?

Though as his mother spoke a look of disgust spread across his face, more and more as she continued. Frank honestly couldn't believe that she believed what she was saying. It was all too, too, idiotic, ignorant, just misinformed really. The whole "we know her" comment getting to him again because obviously they didn't. Or they would have figured out that she didn't want the operation, she was okay in silence and yeah, she did know what she was missing, because in case they had forgotten she had been able to hear at one point something he had to point out offhandedly, "She remembers hearing, in case you cared to know."

Look of disbelief and disgust only growing as she told him that apparently everyone had been in the loop but them. Even that girl he had slept with and her parents. Apparently everyone was allowed to know but the Father, who had been there for her while he was there and tried while he was away, was not allowed to know. Once again coming back to what was best for her, from a mother and father who apparently could barely keep their marriage together. Frank was beginning to question their parenting even before he left.

But what really pissed Frank off. What really steamed him was her telling him that he couldn't have handled being a father. Not because of any other quality but the reason being because he left. Because he was thrown out with no place to return to. All Frank could really do was laugh, "You got it Mom, I couldn't handle the responsibility, that's why I left. Had nothing to do with Dad refusing to allow me to do anything with my life but what he wanted. If I had KNOWN, I would have stayed. But that's not really my fault now is it?"

Then his father said that dumb ass remark about her being a mistake, making Frank legitimately angry, growling as the door slammed, "She was never a mistake."

But the slamming of the door ended the argument. Because none of this little dispute mattered anymore. What mattered was making sure that Emma was okay. That she knew that she was loved unconditionally by Frank if nothing else. By her biological father, even if it had been her grandfather that had raised her as a father. Because he loved her and cared for her, and even though this was all new to him he wasn't going to shrug off his responsibilities, his new found ones. He wasn't going to leave her again. And while his parents were making their way up the stairs Frank was making his way outside. Because the way he saw it, she was going to need some time away from all this.

But the way he saw it, she needed to know that to him she wasn't a mistake. That if he had known he wouldn't have left. And that he loved her, more then anything and would never leave her again...

[Emma Anderson]

The slamming of the door had indeed ceased all arguing, though there were a few choice things that both his parents wanted to say to him. Both about how he was over reaction and about how he could not have been a good Father to Emma, that he would have had no life to offer her and all that other stuff that they had believed with all their hearts all these years.

But they were too busy trying to get into Emma's room to notice he had left, let alone spew any more of their logic his way. They were panicked, having known that Emma wouldn't take this well and having hoped they could keep the entire thing quite from her for ....well...the rest of her life.

As for Emma, she had slipped her sweater on the moment her feet hit the ground and she had run. Not something that was smart, by any means, when it was late and she couldn't hear what was going on around her. But for once, she honestly didn't care. Memories of her childhood flashing before her eyes. Sure, she had always noticed that she looked more like Frank than she did her parents, but she had just assumed that was because they were siblings. But now, thinking back, she realized that she had nothing in common really with her Mother, or her Father, aside from the few subtle traits that Frank seemed to possess from them. And then there were her eyes....she had always wondered how she got such bright, emerald green eyes from her parents when no one in her family had them.

Tears streaking down her face, she ran to cross the street, only to almost get herself run over, though as the car skidded to a stop, undoubtedly honking at her, she would just skirt her way around it and keep going until he finally couldn't run anymore. The only place she knew to go being the park, where that statue was that she was currently working on drawing. It was always so secluded there, so private from the rest of the world, and as she reached it, she collapsed onto the ground and pressed her back up to it, knees drawn to her chest as she just broke down and began to cry.

Now more than anything she wished that she had her hearing, that she was what they all considered normal. Maybe then she would not be....a...a....mistake..That single word crushing her down to her very soul and drawing forth a soft whimper as she trembled and hugged her sweater tighter around herself. It wasn't quite enough for the chilly night that had settled in, but it would have to do. Like hell she was going back to that place.

Steams of tears rolling down her face, she hugged herself tightly and just blocked the rest of the world away. Teeth biting and chewing on her lower lip as she tried her best to just disappear within the shadows of the statue...anything to make herself less visible, to hide, to evaporate from existence. She couldn't believe what she had just 'heard' or what she had seen. He had said she didn't have to have that surgery, and yet he had the paper, and something had been said about him signing it....Then, to top it all off, from what she had been able to gather, his leaving had been something to do with him being her......With being her......Father.

Just the thought of it sent everything she thought she knew into a spin, left it all upside down and inside out, causing her to cry that much harder, and paying no attention to anything going on around her....her eyes covered, she couldn't see, and without her hearing, she was as good as a sitting duck for trouble should it try to find its way to her. Though to be honest, she just didn't care anymore.

[The Fearless Sausage Cook]

Frank made it outside, having heard the honking of a car and it skidding. Eyes open looking for any sign of Emma, though he figured that based on the car, across the street was a good option. The only option really. So he ran across the street, sliding across the hood of the car that he assumed was the one that had been doing the honking. Making his way across the street, then looking both ways, trying to look for any sign of hint of Emma. Looking to the ground but growling in frustration, remembering that there was the sidewalk and that it didn't leave tracks as the sand did. Something that was easy to forget after spending the majority of the last decade in the sand.

So Frank had to stop and think. Where would she run to? Where did she know to go? While he was new to the city he had a bit more experience then Emma herself, and that made things easier. She was unlikely to know a plethora of places so that narrowed things down. Remembering back to what she told him when they first met up again their, er, his mother, her grandmother, mother threatened to not let her go to the park or store alone. So if those were her two favorite spots, Frank's guess is she'd be at either one, although he figured that she was likely crying so she would probably not want to be in that public of an area as a store so park it was. Pausing for a moment longer thinking to where the park was, he would dash off as he remembered passing one close by on the way.

Eventually making his way into the park his head would turn to look both ways as he tried to figure out where she'd be if she was here. Jogging down the path a bit he would see a statue. A piece of art that he could of sworn he'd seen sketches of. Sprinting he'd reach it, trying to catch his breath without panting, listening carefully and hearing some soft crying coming from behind the statue. Slowly making his way around the statue he'd see her, those knees pressed to her chest, eyes hidden from view. Slowly making his way towards her he'd sit down next to her with a sigh. Wrapping an arm around her he'd look at her, an apologetic look on his face, one with a bit of pain in it as well, guilt for having left her, even though he couldn't have possibly known.

If she'd open her eyes to look at him he'd say quietly, "I didn't know Emma. They never told me that I was your father until today. If I'd have known I would have never left you. You're not a mistake Emma. You never have been and never will be. And I will never leave you again."

Wanting to say so much more but for now, that was it. That was more then enough, too much perhaps. She needed time to process everything, and so would Frank, eventually, but for now he was just going to be here for her. Show her that he loved her, that she wasn't a mistake, that he wasn't going to leave her again, not ever....