It's been for-fucking-ever.

Weeks are feeling like months to you. Your partner refused to let you follow him on this particular mission.

You haven't gotten a call from him. No texts. No FaceTime. Not even a damn email.

You haven't slept in a while. Especially not without him next to you.

You're up again tonight, tossing, turning, and considering just staying up til sunrise, when there's a knock on your apartment's front door.

Now, it is two in the goddamn morning. No one should be knocking at two in the goddamn morning.

Grabbing the knife you keep under the mattress, you climb out of bed, padding out to the door and turning on the light on your way.

Looking through the peep hole, you see blue eyes, black hair, and that ever so rare smile you would know anywhere.

"Oh my god."

You put the knife on a side table. You won't be needing it. Not tonight, at least.

Frank doesn't have time to say hello when you opens the door because as soon as you do, you've got him wrapped up in your arms.