glowinthedark: (Frank Sleep)
When I awoke the next morning, I began my struggle.

It wasn’t a difficult case...just a difficult setup. I packed my overnight bag, mentally evaluating my whole life, piece by piece. Went by pretty fast until I’d gotten up to the most recent ten to twelve months.

That’s what scared me.

I kept telling myself that maybe it might actually prove to be beneficial. I might learn some way to keep Simon off my ass and out of my head...anything that might help me sleep better at night. I’d seen too much by that point to think that I was actually crazy...but I had to wonder if part of the reason I couldn’t shake Simon was due to me. Was his hold on me *completely* psychological? Was I keeping him here?

Was I responsible for this hell I was stuck in?

I got everything settled...met with my client one last time...then hit the end of my journey as I pulled into the parking lot.

I got my bag out of the car and walked through the doors of the Hewitt Psychiatric Recovery Center, steeling myself for what lay ahead as I approached the front desk.

“May I help you, sir?”

I nodded, swallowing hard. “Yeah. Uh...I need to check in.”

Muse: Frank Taylor
Fandom: Haunted
Words: 217
glowinthedark: (Frank/Julia Hold Me)
I don’t know if this counts, considering she didn’t really ‘get away’, per se...she was already dead when I met her. But, she’s about the closest there is, so here goes.

Her name was Julia Caufield. I met her at the Blackhawk...like any of the ghosts I run into, I didn’t realize at first she was dead until after I’d managed to squeeze past her to make a shot at the pool table I was occupying. When she was suddenly there on the other side...I had a good idea.

She was...unique looking. She had these eyes that...have you ever been so thirsty you were just about spitting cotton, then taken a sip of cold water? You know how good it tastes, how good it *feels* going down? That’s what it felt like to look into her eyes.

I found out she died outside the bar a few years before...murdered. I had a rather nasty encounter with her ghost...I dreamt of her. What it felt like to hold her, to touch her...in my dream, I could even taste her when she kissed me, cool and sweet...

I wrestled with myself pretty damn hard before I finally set to work trying to help her move on...and I did. Her killer came back and I made sure he was turned in...kept him from killing another girl like he’d killed Julia.

She came back one more time to say goodbye before she was gone.

I know I did the right thing, helping her...did what I was supposed to do. In a way, she was the first spirit...the first *person* that helped me as much as I *hope* I did her. She made me believe in my own strength, that things happen for a reason, and that I’d never have been given this talent if I couldn’t handle it. She made me realize my ability *was* a gift, not a curse.

After all...if I couldn’t see the dead? I’d never have met her.

Muse: Frank Taylor
Fandom: Haunted
Words: 338
glowinthedark: (Frank Sleep)
When I was a kid, I wanted to be a superhero...Captain America specifically. This was when I was real little...comics were my thing. I didn’t just want the powers or the glory...I wanted to be the hero. I wanted to hold up the crumbling building on my own two shoulders, I wanted to brave the flames to save the kid from a burning building. I’ve wanted to help people all my life, wanted to be the best and the strongest...I wanted to be the one others would turn to.

It’s kind of funny, really...I turned that dream into a career with the LAPD, and then that became my dream. I was good at what I did, too...I went for broke to make the busts, to be sure that I could always get the bad guy. Marcus said I had a deathwish...I’d laugh him off even though somewhere in my head? I knew I was thinking it...Captain America didn’t have a death wish. He had a calling.

Well, so did I...and I still do. These days, I guess you could say I’m a real-life superhero. I even have the superpowers to match.

Though just between you and me? There’s some days when I really wish I could fly instead.

Muse: Frank Taylor
Fandom: Haunted
Words: 216
glowinthedark: (Frank/Julia Hold Me)
How others perceive me...I don’t think you really wanna know. Hell, I’m not sure *I* really wanna know.

Nah...seriously? I know how people see me...a nut. When I committed myself a while back, nobody was surprised. The folks in on it kept hinting that I ought to take advantage.

Okay...maybe I’m being a little unfair to my close friends...some of them might label me ‘eccentric’ to be polite, and some probably think I’m pretty harmless. Jess and Marcus, though...I know they worry about me. And it kills me every day that I can’t tell them the truth of what’s happening to me.

I want to tell them why I can’t sleep at night. I want them to know what I see, what I’m really *doing* above and beyond my job. It’s turned into a calling, one that I just might be able to handle...if not for the likes of Simon.

Wonder just how he perceives me...easy mark? A pushover? He must...after all, he’s still here. Still trying to finish the job he started four years ago.

Guess that’s where our perceptions differ. He sees me as a corpse waiting to lie still...I see myself as his own personal Purgatory, and the longer I survive? The longer he suffers.

It’s not much...but when there’s nothing else to hold on to? It’s enough.

Muse: Frank Taylor
Fandom: Haunted
Words: 229
glowinthedark: (Frank So Alone)
I think that to date, the most dangerous thing I’ve done was to commit myself to a mental hospital in order to solve a case. Reason being? Too many people thought I belonged there.

Dante keeps telling me I can’t put this ‘seeing ghosts’ thing on the shelf...can’t take it on and off like a jacket. The asylum made me see just how right he was about that...how all my efforts to separate myself from this gift, making it a ‘part of the job’ was starting to destroy me to the point that even my friends were seeing it.

I went into that place to work...but I think the whole messed-up ordeal was better than all the group therapy I could ever hope to sit through. Jess and Marcus knew why I went in...but when Marcus asked me about my “real” reasons for committing myself, in stung on an odd level. I wasn’t offended or anything...but knowing my best friend thought I was that far gone...in a way, it opened my eyes a little more.

I’m riding a fine line at the moment, and I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to totally accept this talent I’ve got for touching death...but people think I’m crazy, and I can’t blame them. I’m afraid of ending up in another institution, one I can’t sign myself out of because somebody else put me there.

There’s a balance somewhere in between...and I know I have to find it if I don’t want to end up lost for good.

Muse: Frank Taylor
Fandom: Haunted
Words: 262
glowinthedark: (Frank So Alone)
I think if I could know? I’d like to know what Jess still feels for me.

The reason is simple...I still love her. I never stopped.

There’s been others for both of us, I know that...but love comes and goes in this life. Some just stick with us longer than others. Jess...she’s the mother of my son, wherever he might be. Kevin...I loved him, *love* him more than words can say, but not just because he was my son.

I love him because he was the both of us. Jess and I had something really special once, something so big and so precious that it created a human life. Once upon a time, we loved each other so completely that Kevin was the result, and I haven’t forgotten that. After we lost him...she was all I had left of him, of us, and I didn’t want to give her up.

That’s the thing with loss, though...once you lose, you keep on losing in order to preserve what you have left.

So I let Jess go...and I saw her drift away from me. I can’t deny the same happened to me...but again, I lost the woman that meant something to me.

Loss is all I seem to know anymore...but for once? I’d like to know if I have anything left to gain.
glowinthedark: (Frank Run Away)
You want me to pick *one?* That’s kind of hard...my whole life is about hearing secrets and whispers nobody’s supposed to hear. The dead are constantly telling me their secrets...and through them, more often than not I’m exposed to things about the living that should have died with the spirits that come to me.

I guess you could say that the things I’ve discovered are good...beneficial. Listening to the whispers of a ghost got me institutionalized, but I helped a dead man reclaim his identity, and got a lot of healthy people out of a place they didn’t belong. This gift of mine...it threw me into the middle of a case that rooted out a bad cop and saved a good person’s life...though maybe that doesn’t count. Considering the ghost spent most of the time *possessing* me, I didn’t get to overhear much. But I saw plenty.

We all have secrets...there’s always something you probably shouldn’t have said or done, but it’s there, and someone knows it.

And if that someone’s no longer among the living...you can better believe that skeleton in the closet will one day end up on my doorstep.


Muse: Frank Taylor
Fandom: Haunted
Words: 199
glowinthedark: (Default)
Nestor Cruz.

He was a blind Vietnam vet…a homeless man. Alone in a lot of ways, but not. He reminded me of myself in too many ways by the time I finished with his case.

Nestor showed me the darker side of being invisible…he made me realize the deepest reasons why I’ve had to hide my gift from the people I care about. The normal world…it doesn’t want to see the bad things, and so it doesn’t. It also doesn’t want to see things it can’t understand. It turns its gaze from both because both frighten them.

That’s me and Nestor…pretty scary fellas.

Before Nestor, I thought my eyes were open to a lot of things…ghosts, psychic phenomenon, the power of curses and witchcraft…there wasn’t much I *didn’t* believe in anymore.

I thought I was different from most people…but I wasn’t. I saw the dead, I saw the darker side of a city where The Beautiful People reign supreme…but there was still a lot I didn’t see.

Dante told me that the heart was the seat of all emotion…that when I heard Nestor trying to tell me about his heart, that that was the reason.

When I held that heart…his medal in my hands…when I heard those words echo in my ears again, I understood just how right Dante really was. Only a small measure, though…it wouldn’t be until I met a young dead woman named Julia Caufield that I’d really learn how something as insignificant and small as an old war medal…or crossing paths with a beautiful woman in a bar.

Me and Nestor Cruz…the homeless guy on the street, the forgotten heroes that have fought for their country, the men and women who suffer in silence because of strange and terrible, wonderful gifts that they never asked for.

We’re all invisible to you. And while we may be lonely people…we’re never really alone. None of us.

Muse: Frank Taylor
Fandom: Haunted
Words: 318
glowinthedark: (Frank Ouch)
“I want a divorce, Frank.”

We were separated when it happened…we’d been separated once before, a year before Kevin was born. It lasted all of three weeks.

This was different…much different.

She came to see me at the hotel I was staying at…a little hole in the wall in Van Nuys, not far from the station. Cool, impersonal…no place I intended to stay for very long. Close enough to work for my tastes, and close enough to home that I could go back to Jess at a moment’s notice.

That’s not what she wanted, though…not by a longshot.

She had the papers, too…that’s what I couldn’t believe. She already had the goddamn paperwork…she had to have been talking to a lawyer at least a month before I moved out of the house to be *this* ready.

“I want a divorce, Frank.” She said to me, one hand extended with the papers in them.

Waiting.

“I don’t fucking believe this.”

“Frank…”

“Jess…please, think about this…think about what you’re *doing*…”

”I have, Frank. I just…it’s not you, it’s me.”

Liar. It wasn’t her *or* me…it was Kevin.

“It’s just not working anymore.”

More lies. When she saw me, she saw our little boy, and she couldn’t deal with it.

When I saw her, I saw the mother of my son…all I had left of my baby. She was a little piece of Kevin, and I couldn’t stand to be away from her.

She was all I had to get me through the worst event of my life, and she wanted out.

That’s the problem with loving someone as much as I loved my wife…you’ll do anything for them, and you won’t think about what happens to you.

“You have to understand, Frank…I still want to stay close. We need each other.”

“Right…but you don’t need me enough to stay married to me.”

“Frank…”

I looked into her eyes when she said it…my name, that one little word. There was just so much pain…too much. It hurt me to see it…I loved her, and I didn’t want to hurt her. I take my promises seriously, and I’d promised to love her…love her ‘til death do us part.

I guess sometimes loving someone means letting them go.

That’s why I signed…and that’s why I kissed her when I gave her back those papers, complete with my signature on every page.

There’s been a few other women since Jess…but I still love her. I always will.

Married or no, I don’t need a license for that.


Muse: Frank Taylor
Fandom: Haunted
Words: 421
glowinthedark: (Default)
It’s kind of silly…but the only real superstition I’ve ever had is biting my nails.

Yeah, I know…but it’s true. Started when I was in grade school…biting my nails was a nervous habit, but even if I didn’t study? I always did better on a test when I bit my nails. Now that I’m older, I know it was just a crutch…comforting, or relaxing or what have you, but my parents played hell for years trying to get me to quit.

Now? Superstitions? I eat, sleep, and breathe them. I don’t believe in ghosts, I talk to them. I work cases for them…I know possession is real and I know that the chills you sometimes get isn’t someone walking over your grave…it happens when you walk over someone else’s grave. I know that if you die with unfinished business, you gotta put it to rest before you can move forward.

Does anything get rid of the spooks? No…not until they get what they came for. And for some…like Simon Dean…that means seeing someone dead before you can find peace.

And Simon’s got a *very* long wait ahead of him.

Muse: Frank Taylor
Fandom: Haunted
Words: 189
glowinthedark: (Frank So Alone)
Dear Julia,

I know you’ll never see this, being that you’re dead...but I have to get it off my chest anyway. I read somewhere once that the Greeks believed that the dead could hear our thoughts. Well...wherever you are, I hope you can hear me now.

I never asked for this thing...this gift of mine. Nobody wants to spend their life tied down to death this way.

I had to meet you to realize that what I am now...what I do...it’s all just another part of the circle. We’re born...we die...and even when this life ends, we can still be happy, still find joy...erase the darkness of our own passing with something that makes it all good again.

You were in pain, and I’d like to think that I brought you some joy before you moved on. I hope that I erased some of the horror of your death.

Because you need to know one thing, if you know nothing else about me. Your life may be over...but you brought me back to life the day we met.

I just hope when my life is over, I can find you on the other side...just like you found me.

All my love,
Frank

Muse: Frank Taylor
Fandom: HAUNTED
Words: 211
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