Fic: When The Leaves Fall (14/15)

[bradygirl_12]

Title: When The Leaves Fall (14/15)
Author: BradyGirl_12
Pairings/Characters (this chapter): Frank/Adam, Vito Arcaro
Fandom: Naked City
Genres: Angst, Drama, Historical, Holiday, Romance
Rating (this chapter): G
Warnings: (this chapter): None
Spoilers: For Today The Man Who Kills The Ants Is Coming (3x21)
General Summary: After the fallout from a violent confrontation with a fleeing killer, Adam is broken.
Chapter Summary: Bells, foghorns...a foggy Halloween night.
Original DW/LJ Date Of Completion: January 15, 2025
Original DW/LJ Date Of Posting: January 22, 2025
Disclaimer; I don't own 'em, Screen Gems does, more's the pity.
Original DW/LJ Word Count: 1393
Feedback welcome and appreciated.
All chapters can be found here.

They say

There is a heaven

And hell.

Beauty

And happiness,

Pain

And suffering.

Which one

Is Earth?

Brother Ignatius

" 'Twixt Body & Soul:

A Philosophical Treatise"

1134 C.E.

 

October 31, 1968

Halloween dawned bright and sunny, a heavy wind coming off the ocean. Bright leaves swirled around in crazy arcs as tree branches bowed to the wind.

Adam sat on his deck, a pumpkin on the table. It was painted with a traditional Jack O'Lantern face. The slider behind him was open partway, letting the crisp air dash into the bedroom.

Adam was wearing his Dracula cape over an outfit of white shirt, cranberry-colored V-neck sweater, black jeans and black sneakers. He wore the ring he had requested from his storage locker in the city.

He glanced over at Frank in the other chair, amusement curving his lips. His partner was wearing his angel costume from six years ago, complete with harp.

It delighted Adam that whenever he looked at Frank, his lover seemed to glow. If the light hit just right, he sparkled with an aura that softened his features and made his smile even more dazzling.

A gust of wind blew, and the silver bell Adam always put on his Christmas tree rang with clear tones. It was tied to a knob on one of his dresser drawers.

Adam chuckled. "You know, they say that whenever a bell rings, an angel gets his wings."

"Yeah?" Frank waggled his wings. His golden halo bobbed with the wind.

Adam could swear that Frank's voice sounded amplified, as if he was Sargon from the Star Trek episode, "Return To Tomorrow".

"Well, you are an angel."

The only person besides you to think that would be Mama."

Adam chuckled. Sofia Arcaro was a typical Italian mother.

They fell silent for a few minutes, then Adam sighed.

"What is it?"

"Nurse Sheffield will be leaving soon. She took a new job on a cruise ship."

"She'll enjoy it."

"I'll miss her."

Frank gazed out at the sparkling ocean. "I should have done that."

"What?"

"Taken a cruise, or at least more vacation time."

Adam swallowed. "You have regrets?"

"Doesn't everybody?"

Yes, doesn't everybody?

"Uncle Vito."

"Huh?"

"Uncle Vito's cabin in Maine." Frank's Halo bobbed. "A good place."

"I remember," Adam said softly.

& & &

July 4, 1963

The day was hot and bright, as befit a summer day. Frank and Adam had gotten up early to help Uncle Vito on his lobster boat. They had helped before, and Vito called them 'old salts'.

The lobster haul was a good one. Adam and Frank carefully handled the lobsters, dumping them into seawater-filled tubs with their claws banded as they cleared the traps and lowered them back into the water.

"No days off, huh?" Adam asked Vito as the burly man came down from the pilothouse to help with the abundant catch.

"Not during lobstering season," Vito said. "If we didn't clear the traps, holiday or not, no more lobsters could get in."

"Makes sense." Adam dodged a flailing claw.

"July 4th, Independence Day," said Vito. "And what else, Frankie?"

"Day after the Battle of Gettysburg, a great victory for the Union."

"Damn right " Vito expertly handled an enormous lobster. "And with Grant's victory at Vicksburg, the South's days were numbered."

"Damn right." Frank grinned at Adam. Vito Arcaro was a Civil War buff and loving the Centennial observances.

Adam grinned. As a history nut himself, he appreciated Vito's enthusiasm.

 

"You know, they're still fighting the War down there," said Adam.

"No kidding," said Vito. "It's why Ike had to call out the troops in '57 at Little Rock to let some Negro kids attend school, then JFK had to do the same to let James Meredith attend Ole Miss last year."

"It's crazy," said Frank. "And let's not forget the Public Safety Commissioner of Birmingham, Bull Connor, letting loose the dogs on peaceful black demonstrators. Fire hoses, too."

"Pretty awful pictures to show the country." Vito shook his head.

"All over the world, too," added Adam.

"I'm sure the Soviet Union loved showing those pictures," said Frank.

"You better believe it, Frankie." Vito grabbed another lobster and banded its claws. "It's a bad look for us."

The men fell silent, the only sounds that of the water lapping against the boat. A seagull cried sharply as it wheeled and dove into the sea, coming up with a wriggling fish. It flew away as other seagulls chased it. From far away a ship's horn blew.

"This is the life." Frank sighed happily.

"Could be yours, Frankie."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. You've got your twenty in. Put in your papers and retire. I'll rent or sell you the cabin, whichever works best for you."

Adam felt his stomach drop. No! He could see a bleak stretch of years ahead doing his job without his partner.

He looked down, busying himself with a lobster trap, checking to see if anything needed to be repaired. He didn't want Vito to see his distress.

"Sounds tempting, Uncle, but I have a lot of crimebuster left in me. Right, Adam?"

Adam blinked and looked up, hoping his eyes weren't too obviously teary. "Right, Frankie."

"Hey!" Frank tossed a glove at Adam at the use of his nickname.

Adam grinned and noticed Vito watching him. Hopefully the wily old man didn't suspect a thing.

"C'mon, boys, let's finish up. We've got a whole day of celebration ahead of us and fireworks tonight," said Vito cheerfully.

& & &

"I remember," Adam said softly, glancing inside at the lobster photograph on his dresser.

"Huh?"

"Just remembering." Adam twisted the ring he wore. It was plain gold with a tiny emerald chip in the center.  He remembered Frank saying when he gave it to him, "When the light hits your hazel eyes just right, they shine this color." He always wore it in his right hand, though he ached to wear it on his left.

He had gifted Frank with a lapel pin. Best not to exchange rings and invite curiosity. The tiny gold pin was shaped like a detective badge , and a tiny sapphire chip was set in the center, Frank's birthstone. No inscriptions with initials or declarations of love. Always hidden in the shadows.

Adam felt a great wave of panic swell up in him. What unnamed something bothering him was consuming him. Desperation made his nerves scream.

"Frank," he gasped.

Frank was gazing out at the sea. The afternoon light was setting everything afire with gold. Fog began rolling in, blotting out the twilight stars, and the lighthouse horn sounded deep and lonely like a train whistle in the middle of the night.

"Frank."

"Hmm?"

"I need you to forgive me."

"Forgive you for what?" Frank looked at Adam.

"I don't know."

Adam felt humiliated. How dumb was that, begging forgiveness for something he couldn't name? His wrist and ankle throbbed.

"Please, forgive me." Something yawned, deep and endless inside him. "I can't..." The Attic door was pulling at him. No! Something up in that attic had sent him tumbling down into the abyss again. He wasn't sure he had the strength to climb out a third time. "Please," he sobbed.

Frank put his harp on the table and rose from his chair, going around the table to grasp his lover's shoulders. "Adam, caro, it's all right."

Streams of silver ran down Adam's cheeks. "I can't... can't do this anymore. It hurts."

He was shaking, grabbing at the sleeve of Frank's costume, sliding down to his hand. Frank's skin was always cool at first touch, then warmed. Frank pressed his face close to his midsection.

"Oh, Adam," he said sadly, caressing the younger man's hair.

"Please, Frank."

"My poor Adam. You've suffered so much." He sighed. "I forgive you, Adam."

Adam felt a great weight lift off him. Not completely, because he still didn't know why, but he could breathe again. Exhaustion claimed him.

""Come on, you need to lie down."

Frank helped Adam inside and stretch out on his bed, his cloak whispering softly as it was spread out. Adam closed his eyes and felt Frank's warm hand touch his forehead.

"It's time, Adam."

The foghorn sounded mournfully as the wind wailed in the gathering dusk.

This chapter can also be read on AO3

Crossposts: https://bradygirl-12.livejournal.com/1588437.html