Work Text:
Frank was out, ya know, punishing people. Killing them, well, you know Frank. When he was getting ready to go home for the day, he stopped by a tech store. Picked up a new phone for Jean. Picked a pretty nice one too, just to surprise her when he came home. Besides, she kinda needed a phone anyways. While Frank was getting that, Jean was just watching TV, reading, whatever really to pass some time.
Frank started opening the door to his bunker, he always tapped it a few times before opening it, it was an old habit and was how Jean always knew it was him. As Frank climbed down from the handle bars or ladder down, she turned to him.
“Hey. How was your day?”
“Good, what’ve you been up to while I was gone?”
“Yeah, uh, nothing much, to be honest. Just chilling.”
“Ah, that's nice, that's nice. I got you a gift actually.” Frank said, pulling the box out with the phone out. “Noticed that you don't got any way to communicate with us when your out. And, I thought you'd like one.” He put the box on the table. “Let me know when you get it all booted up or whatever, I'll add me and Petey’s numbers.”
“Oh, thank you! Thank you so much, Frank. That's really nice of you, wow.” Jean said.
“Ay, no worries kid. Anytime, whatever you want, just call me up.”
Jean appreciated the phone so much, she was texting Peter and Frank, getting games. She was really happy. She hadn't had a phone in a long time, her mom took it and most of her belongings once she was kicked out. So, it was really nice to have a phone again. She was really happy about it too. She had a distraction for a little or maybe a lot. But, Jean was still in her feelings about everything that had happened, why wouldn't she? The phone gift couldn't fix that. It was very traumatic, something she'd never forget no matter how much she scrolled. Frank knew about this, she had a right to mourn her family. Hell, he was still mourning his own after all this time. But, Once Frank had realized that Jean didn't have a gravestone or anything for her sister. So, he had the bright idea of getting that for her. Being with his family, even if they were graves, still brought him comfort. So, he bought one for her. Hopefully, it would give her some amount of comfort like the graves of his family did to him. It didn't give Frank much, but it was something. That's what matters.
So, Frank brought Jean to a store. Flower shop, where he usually bought the flowers he decorated his family's grave with. He was a regular there, he always picked a different flower type there. He told her to pick one while he selected his own.
“Why?” Jean asked. “Where are we going?”
“You'll see. Just, pick the one you like the most.”
“O…Kay?” She said, she was obviously confused. But, she knew Frank was always intentional. So, she just went along with it.
They paid for the flowers and left. They were in Frank's big ass truck, The more she looked, the more weapons she saw. She was mainly just playing on the phone that Frank had bought for her and looking out of the window. Frank knew this route like the back of his hand. He could do it with his eyes closed if he wanted.
Once they made it there, Jean noticed how it was a graveyard, obviously. She was wondering why they were there? Were they there for someone specific? Why? A lot of questions rushed her brain but, she just asked. “What are we doing here?”
“You'll see. Follow me.” Frank said, leading her somewhere. Jean slightly smiled, just because she noticed he rhymed that unintentionally. Plus, because of how bizarre this situation truly was. But, she still followed.
They made their way to the Castle family graves. Jean looked at it with a somber expression. “Your family? These are those people in the photos that you put on that cabinet, right?”
“Yeah, this place brings me comfort sometimes. It's filled with memories.” Jean nodded, understanding. As Frank sat the flowers down with their corresponding vases. “It's just like once day I was reading little stories to my kids, coming to the bed with my wife after a long deployment, going on vacations, cruises, ya know? Then, the other, they are gone. Six feet under. Whenever I'm here, I can feel that they are with me. I can see my daughter. Feel her presence. It's nice. It's great. Well, no. It's bittersweet. That'd be a better way to put it.” As he spoke, Jean listened carefully and nodded along. “So, I thought it would be a good idea to let you experience that too. Get a little more comfort, like I do from this place.”
He turned, slightly to another grave. It wasn't too far away, but still a small walk. As they got closer Jean read the name that was etched on the stone. “Sarah Grey” is what it read. Jean gasped.
“Decorate it with what you like, that's why I told you to get those flowers, kid. You can stay here how long you'd like. Whenever you'd like.” Frank said “Just let me know, just let me know.”
“Frank, you are…something. You're something, you're a good guy. I know that. You are a good guy.” she said, she sat the flowers down. Jean ended up sitting there for a while, she also had put Sarah's scrunchie there. But, ultimately, she decided to pick it up and keep it with her. Her scrunchie gave her something, some feeling of Sarah being with her of all time, like what Frank said about the graves. That scrunchie would stay with her, no matter what. That was the last thing she had of Sarah's, after all. So, she'd cherish it.
Frank and Jean go to these graves often, together always. Same routine, same time, same everything. That was a way they bonded, bonded over this grief. It wasn't as sad with someone who was like you, it was more comforting. It meant you had someone who got you. Once Peter had heard about this, he'd end up joining them. Because, he too, needed this comfort with his Aunt May. Every once in a while, those three share this sad understanding. That's what they got, that's what mattered. That's what pulled them closer.