Later that same night, Frank lay in his bed and stared at the darkened ceiling above him.

Joe was home, in his room, after being released from the hospital that afternoon with firm instructions to take it easy for a couple of days and dress warmly when he did go out.

Frank resisted the urge to go and check on him again, but it had only been a half hour since he last looked, and the younger boy was starting to get downright hostile about it!

Sighing, he turned onto his side and thought about Lily. That still hurt.

He shook his head and wondered how he could have been so badly taken in by her – tried to figure out why he had refused to trust his brother’s gut instinct on this one.

Three hours later, after exhausting just about every conceivable emotion possible, he came to one conclusion: he was overwhelmingly relieved that Joe was the type of person he was, and that he had forgiven him; understanding that Frank would have never done anything intentional to hurt him.

And when he finally felt the comforting pull of sleep, he hoped things would get back to normal between them now….

* * *

Joe was awake surprisingly early the next morning. He lay in bed and categorized his different aches and stiffness before picking out the best way to actually get out of bed!  With minimal pain, and only a soft groan as he sat up, he made his way to the bathroom and then frowned at the reflection in the mirror.  He looked terrible!

In spite of all the sleep he’d gotten yesterday, his eyes were still a bit bloodshot; his face pale; his hair branching off in just about every direction!  He gingerly touched the rope burn on his neck, grimacing at the memory.  His mouth was still a bit sore, too, from the gag and his attempts to get out of it.  His wrists were abraded and his torso…Joe lifted his t-shirt and grimaced – he seemed to get more colorful every day!  But he knew that was just the way of healing bruises.

All and all, it was much worse looking than he felt…so he considered himself lucky. Physically anyway.

Sighing, he reached into the shower, turned the faucet on and then steeled himself for the arduous task of taking his t-shirt off.

“You never learn, do you”, he muttered through clenched teeth, “no t-shirts, you dummy!  Too hard to take’em off!!” With a few more seething reproachful comments, he was finally able to step into the shower and let the warm water wash away some of the aches.

Your brother told me what you said…. Lily’s voice seemed to curl around him again, suffocating him, as the words hurt worse than anything Davis or his friends did.

Damn you, Frank, Joe thought, surprising himself with the amount of anger he was feeling, you had to tell…didn’t you? You just had to tell…her!

Grimacing, he scrubbed painfully at his body, and wondered what to do. Finally after ten minutes, he had made up his mind.  He needed to talk to Frank.

* * *

“Hey, Joe!” Frank greeted cheerfully when he saw his brother step tentatively into his room. The sound of the shower had awakened him and he was very surprised to see the younger boy up and around already. He had assumed Joe would want to take advantage of the doctor’s orders and stay in bed. They had already given their statements to the police yesterday.  “How you feeling? You’re looking pretty good.”

Joe sighed, “I look like crap, but thanks for being nice about it.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Frank said, his eyes shining with concern, making the younger boy feel about two inches tall for the conversation they were about to have.

The blond teen took a deep breath, trying to summon his determination, but before he could even get his mouth open, Frank was rambling on. 

“Joe, I really meant it when I said how sorry I am about all this and – and I know I’ve been acting like a class ‘A’ jerk….I took you for granted, kid brother; putting Lily ahead of you, and everyone else; working on the assumption that you’d just be hanging around waiting for a spare moment…begging for one, more like it….” He let out a sigh, disgusted with himself. “And even worse, I ignored what you were saying – brushed it off as jealousy!  I just let myself get so caught up in Lily that I couldn’t see anything past her—”  he looked pointedly at the younger teen, “and look what it almost cost me....”

Joe shifted uncomfortably, caught between embarrassment at his brother’s confessions and reawakened anger and resentment.  As if I didn’t have that figured out already! he grumbled mentally. Took him long enough to wake up!

“I was up all last night thinking about everything...” Frank let out a heavy sigh and continued.  “I’m a mess,” he admitted.  “And I don’t like feeling like this – not one bit!  Whenever I think about you, I feel this overwhelming mass of guilt…like I can’t even breathe, and I don’t know what to do about it.  I know you’ve forgiven me and you have no idea, little brother, how much that’s helped, but in the end I still feel really stupid…but at least I know now – where the affairs of my heart are concerned, I need to use my head!”  He gave his brother a small smile as he flexed his fist.  “I will admit it did feel awfully good to lay Davis Getty out – twice in one day!”

Joe closed his eyes as a tangled mass of anger, uncertainty and reluctance wrenched at him.  How could he bawl his brother out, now? How could he pile more guilt on top of what Frank was already feeling?  But how could he not?  Later, he decided wearily, opening his eyes and regarding his brother’s rather puzzled expression. Not now… later.  When he can handle it.

 “I’m glad you enjoyed decking Davis, Frank,” he finally said, and then walked out of the room.

* * *

Frank watched him leave, confused by the uncustomary coolness in his brother’s tone.  “What did I say?” he murmured, a frown creasing his brow.

* * *

“You’re up early,” Fenton Hardy remarked as he saw his younger son come into the kitchen.  He glanced down at his watch, just to confirm the time.  “I thought you were supposed to take it easy today?”

Joe shrugged as he grabbed a banana and sat down at the breakfast table; his mom was nowhere in sight.  “I am and I will.  Where’s Mom?”

“Right here, sweetie,” Laura smiled as she hurried into the kitchen and started to butter the toast that popped up, as if just waiting for her return. She smiled at the youth.  “You’re looking better today.”

The teen couldn’t help but smile at her tact.  Yes, he did look better than yesterday…but that was about it!

Adding the toast to the small pile in the middle of the table, she fished out strawberry jam and some peanut butter.  Joe was a bit surprised. It was Saturday; usually his mother went all out on weekend breakfasts, particularly ones where everyone was home.

His mother saw the questioning look and smiled, “There’s a craft show in Gresham today that Catherine and I are going to. We want to leave early to get good parking!”

Making quick work of the banana, Joe picked up a piece of toast.  “When are you leaving?”

“In about five minutes,” Laura said, finishing the last of her cup of tea and moving the dish into the sink.  “Why, sweetie?”

“I was wondering if I could get a lift with you as far as the Mortons’. The gang is going to try another attempt at barn painting for Mr. Morton.  Chet’s dad hurt his back the last time he tried to do it himself, and he’s still a bit sore.”  He went on to explain, at his father’s curious look. Chet and Iola had visited him last night, and before leaving had mentioned a second attempt; Biff, Phil and Tony had already agreed to help – the Italian youth having taken time off work to assist.  No one expected Joe to help, but he’d still been invited along in case he was looking for a distraction and wanted to get out of the house for a while.

It seemed so long ago now, since they had tried to get together that ill-fated Saturday. Wretched day that turned out to be, he thought a bit bitterly, remembering his and Biff’s car accident and the subsequent fallout over that blasted case of beer!  He scowled as it also brought back memories of Frank’s ‘accident’ and subsequent invasion, by Lily, into their lives!

“Are you sure?  You’re still looking a bit tired, and Dr. Bates did say that you really should take it easy for a couple of days,” Laura protested, not too keen on the idea of him going anywhere right now.  “I don’t want you overexerting yourself—”

Joe cut his mother off gently.  “I’m okay Mom; I just need to get out for a bit.”

Laura appraised her son, pleased to see that he was at least warmly dressed, and then sighed and gave him an understanding smile.  “Sure honey, but I really do have to leave in five minutes.  Is Frank going too?”

“Not this time.  It’s just me.”  The expression on Joe’s face was unreadable and Laura and Fenton exchanged a look.  After what had just happened, they were surprised by this.

“Is anything wrong?” the investigator asked his son. While the brothers did NOT do everything together, they normally did when it came to group events like this one.

Joe shrugged and gave his father a vague look.  “No, not really.”  And then he turned to his mother and got up from the table, taking a piece of toast to eat on the way.  “I’ll wait in the car.”  He left before his father could press him about it.

“Something’s up,” Laura murmured as the door shut behind the blond teen; her pretty face was marred by a concerned frown.

“Yup,” agreed the investigator with a heartfelt sigh.  He took a sip of his hot coffee and then fixed his wife with a knowing look.  “You take the blond; I’ll take the brunette…”

She nodded.  “Think they’ll talk?”

Fenton shook his head.  “Nope, but when did that ever stop us!”

“Ostrich parents don’t realize just how good they have it!” Laura grumbled as she grabbed her keys and purse. Her husband followed her to the door as she explained, “First sign of trouble and they can just bury their heads in the sand!”

Fenton was still chuckling about that five minutes later when he finished his coffee and went upstairs to see if the ‘brunette’ was feeling very forthcoming.

* * *

“So?” Laura said casually as she backed out of the driveway, “you want to tell me what’s going on?”

“What do you mean?” Joe asked, stifling a yawn.  He hadn’t slept too well.  Between Frank coming in and checking on him and his own anxious dreams, the blond teen had pretty much been up most of the night.  He suppressed a small shiver as he waited for the car to heat up.  Although he was wearing a heavier sweater over his shirt – and a jacket over top of that – he was still a bit sensitive to the cold.

“You should have waited inside until the car was warmed up,” his mother chastised lightly before adding, “So, you want to tell me why you’re going to Chet’s and Frank isn’t?  That’s not like you guys.”

Joe sighed, and wished that his parents weren’t so quick on the uptake.  Although not as intuitive as he was, his mother didn’t do too badly; and his father, well Fenton Hardy, detective extraordinaire, made his living picking up on the small stuff!

“It’s nothing really, Mom,” the teen finally said, “I just got some stuff to work out, and it’s easier to do by myself.” 

She heard what he was saying…easier to do without Frank around.  Her heart ached, as she just knew it was fallout from Lily.

“Something you want to talk about? You know keeping stuff inside just makes you miserable.”  She glanced across at her son but couldn’t see his face as Joe was looking out the passenger side window.

He shook his head.  “Not yet.”  And then added, casting a quick look at her, “But thanks for the offer.”

They traveled along for a few more minutes in silence before his mother spoke again, taking a stab in the dark; hating when there were problems between her two boys.  “I’m very proud of you – you know?”

“Proud of me, for what?” Joe stopped looking out the window and watched his mother’s profile as she drove.

“For realizing how much your brother was hurting, and helping him.”

Oh, he thought as his mother continued, “You know he would never do anything to hurt you and if he’d known what this girl was capable of—”

“Mom, please,” Something in Joe’s voice made her stop and look at him.  “Can we not talk about this?”

“Joe?  Are you okay?”  The amount of concern in her voice made him wince and he looked out the window again.

“Yeah, I’m just kinda talked out about that subject, that’s all.”  Not completely true.  He was just getting tired of hearing about it!

“Oh honey, I’m sorry – are you sure you’re feeling up to this?” his mother asked.  “I can drive you home or call your father—”

“MOM – Stop it!”  The amount of forcefulness in his voice shocked them both!  He had never spoken to his mother like that before!

“Joseph Hardy, don’t you dare take that tone with me!” Laura reprimanded swiftly, and he immediately apologized.

“I’m sorry!  But I really am fine!  I just need to get away for a couple of hours – to hang out with the guys!” he tried to explain, fighting an irrational urge to just jump out of the car and run, but his nerves were completely frazzled!

The silence of the next two minutes was suffocating, and finally Joe said; his voice soft and contrite, “I know that Frank would never intentionally do anything to hurt me, okay?  And I do forgive him for not listening to me or seeing through Lily earlier…but—” his voice broke off as he chewed his lip nervously, not really wanting to have this conversation with her.

“But what?” Laura pressed gently.

“But,” Joe finally admitted, deciding that he had to say something, “everything isn’t about Lily….There are some things that are about Frank.  And that’s what I need to sort out.”

His mother took a moment to digest what her son was telling her, and even then she still wasn’t sure she understood.  However, it was apparent Joe didn’t want to tell her anything else, so with a heavy sigh, she just said, “I just hope, sweetie, that when the right time comes for you to talk to Frank – that you will.”

I hope so too, Joe thought but never answered her.  I really do.

* * *

Frank was just getting dressed when his father knocked on the door.

“Son, can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Hold on, Dad,” the teen said, pulling on a pair of jeans and grabbing a clean shirt from the drawer.  Slipping it on over his muscular frame, he opened the door and smiled at his father.  “What’s up?”  He stepped back, inviting Fenton in.

“I was just wondering how everything’s going?” the detective asked, noticing that while Frank looked tired, he didn’t look particularly upset, which made him wonder if he was wrong; and that whatever was bothering Joe had nothing to do with Frank.

“Pretty good,” the older teen admitted and then frowned, “Or I think it is, anyway.”

“You think it is? You don’t sound too sure, son,” Fenton commented, sitting down at Frank’s desk while the boy sat on the edge of his bed, a thoughtful look on his face.

“Well, I had a talk with Joe a few minutes ago – you know, just to reinforce to him how bad I still do feel about all this; and about how I’d been treating him…well, everyone actually,” Frank said, blushing a bit as he admitted this to his father, “but I’m not exactly sure how Joe took it.”

“What do you mean?” the detective pressed, seeing nothing overt that would upset the younger teen.

“He just seemed – I don’t know, not himself or something.  I think he’s a lot more shaken up about this than he’s willing to admit,” Frank speculated, a small frown playing across his face as he thought about his brother’s odd behavior.

Fenton nodded his head.  “That’s pretty understandable given what happened.”  The detective pursed his lips for a moment before continuing, “Your mom and I thought you might have had some trouble this morning – between the two of you that is.” He went on to explain, “Joe left with your mother a few minutes ago.  He’s gone to the Mortons’ for a couple of hours.”

Frank looked surprised and then a bit chagrined. “Without me?” Fenton looked at him, and his son rolled his eyes.  “Well I guess that’s kinda obvious.  But what I mean is that he never asked me if I wanted to go!  Or even mentioned he wanted to go out there, come to think of it.”

“Well, he told us that the gang was meeting there to paint John’s barn – I had assumed you knew,” the sleuth said, his concern about Joe rising as he saw Frank start to shake his head.

“No. This is the first I’ve heard of it.”  Now Frank was truly puzzled – he had assumed that, like him, Joe would have wanted to spend some time together, doing things – just the two of them – like before. What’s up, little brother?  he wondered as he stood.  “Chet and Iola must have mentioned it to him when I was on the phone with Phil.  I think I’ll give Biff a call and see if I can catch a ride with him.”  He glanced at the time as he spoke, positive that his blond friend would NOT have left yet.  His mind was burning with questions for Joe when he got there!

“Your brother was probably just anxious to get out of the house for a while,” Fenton offered as he followed his son out of the room.  Who he was trying to convince was debatable.

“Yeah,” Frank answered vaguely, and then picked up the phone to call Biff.  “Maybe.”

* * *

“You’re awfully quiet,” Iola Morton commented as she sat down next to Joe on the wooden veranda swing that overlooked the driveway and cow barn.  She had been delighted to see the younger Hardy arrive with his mother and was enjoying a few minutes alone with him before everyone else showed up; it was only 8:30 a.m. and the rest of the gang wasn’t expected until around nine.  “What’cha thinking about?” she asked as she laced her fingers though his, enjoying the new closeness between them.  She carefully leaned back against him, mindful of how sore he still was, and felt his arm automatically slip around her shoulder, drawing her closer.  It felt so natural, and she let out a small relieved sigh.

“You,” he said after a moment.

“Me?” Iola was surprised and delighted.

“Yeah,” Joe said, his voice soft, “actually, you and me.” He continued before she could give that any thought, “I was just thinking how ironic it was that it was me and you who got hurt in all this. I mean physically, anyway.  Me for Frank; you for Jorgen.”

“I know,” Iola said quietly, glancing down at her still-wrapped wrist.  “I’ve been giving that a lot of thought too.”

“Really?  And what did you come up with?” he pressed, curious, as he leaned his cheek wearily against the top of her silky hair.  God, he was tired.

“I just think that it goes to show just how insane that girl was!  First, because I don’t even like Jorgen—”

“I don’t think that mattered, he liked you,” Joe put in.

She thought about that for a moment and then conceded with a nod before continuing:  “And secondly, because, everyone knows how close you and Frank are; if there is one thing he won’t tolerate it’s anyone doing anything to hurt you!”

Joe felt his jaw tighten as he glanced across the gravel driveway and heard Lily’s taunt once again:  Your brother told me what you said....  Iola’s comment stabbed at him.  No one except him, he thought, surprised by the bitterness of his own thought.  He knew he was being harsh but he was hurt – and it had been Frank who hurt him; broke his confidence.

“So what did you come up with?” Iola’s voice interrupted his thought, and he glanced down at her questioningly, not sure if he had missed something she said.

“Hmm?”

“About us being the subjects of that ‘stinkweed’!”  she explained before Joe had to ask.  “Lily!”

“Oh that.”  He couldn’t help but grin at Iola’s name for her – it was very fitting, he decided.  A mischievous twinkle lighted in his eyes for just a moment as he quipped, “I think Frank dating is hazardous to our health!”

Iola’s laughter was music to his ears and he pulled her just a little bit closer, something akin to contentment settling over him – for a moment.  And then he thought about his brother, and it was gone.

* * *

Frank hurried down the stairs.  He had called Biff and his friend – given time off for good behavior from his eternal grounding – told him he’d be there in a few minutes. The dark-haired teen was anxious to get to the farm and talk to his brother.

The more he thought about Joe’s behavior this morning, the more he was bothered. There was something going on and he was determined to find out what!

Fenton was in his office and Frank called out as he opened the front door, “See you later, Dad!” and then he stopped in shock, staring at the person standing right in front of him.

With his hand poised to knock, the large, dark-haired man smiled at him.  “Frank Hardy, I presume.”

Frank felt all the blood drain from his face.  He had never met this man before but knew right away who he was – the similarities were too obvious – he was Darius Getty, Lily and Davis’s father!

***Thanks SW for keeping me in ‘perspective’***