A short time later Frank stood beside the river with his father as they watched the divers searching for the body.  After Frank had passed out, his father and Con used smelling salts to revive him, and when he insisted that he was all right, they had left to go to the bridge. 

Frank was in shock – this couldn’t be happening again, he couldn’t lose Joe again.

“What was he doing up on the highway at this time of night?”  his father muttered for the tenth time in the last half hour.  It was the million-dollar question, in Frank’s mind.

‘I don’t know, Dad,” Frank replied numbly as he watched the tail end of his van being pulled from the water.  He had desperately hoped that it was not the Hardy van, but as he saw the familiar license plate, he knew it was.

Chief Collig, a long time friend of the Hardys, stood by quietly.  He didn’t know what to say.  This family had already gone through so much – to lose Joe again, and just after they had gotten him back…he wasn’t sure if they could recover.

* * *

When Joe awoke, it took him a second to get his bearings – where was he?  The last thing he remembered was sitting down next to Iola’s grave and talking to her – he must have fallen asleep. 

Feeling the cold grass pressing into his cheek, he realized that was exactly what had happened.  The sun was already rising and he could feel its warmth against his face.

Oh no – Frank’s gonna kill me! he thought as he painfully got to his feet.  His body had a few extra bruises that it was complaining about from his fall over the fence, but he was more worried about getting home before anyone knew he was missing. 

Muttering under his breath, he dragged his aching body back over the fence and once again, fell to the ground on the other side, this time jarring his broken arm.

“AAAHHH!” he screamed.  But that was nothing compared to how he felt when he looked to where he had parked the van and it wasn’t there!

“Crap – Dad’s gonna kill me!” he grimaced.  The van had been stolen!

“Joe Hardy, you are real piece of work,” he complained to himself as he reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone.  He paused for a few minutes trying to figure out who would be the best one to call at this hour in the morning.

Ennie…Meenie…Minnie…Moe – who’ll be least pissed off – I don’t know, he rhymed off in his head before he decided to call Tony. 

It was Tuesday morning, and Joe knew that on Tuesdays, before school, Tony went to Mr. Pizza to wait for the deliveries.   Looking at his watch, Joe knew that Tony should be on his way to the restaurant right now and if he caught him, maybe he could pick Joe up.

Tony answered his cell on the second ring, and Joe could hear the sound of a car motor in the background – good, Tony was still in his car.

“Hello?”  Tony answered, sounding a bit tired. 

“Hey Ton – could you do me a really big favor?”

“Joe?  What are you doing up at this hour – aren’t you usually just rolling over for your second nap?”  Tony joked.  Everyone knew that Joe hated getting out of bed.

“Ha, ha!  Always the funny guy, Prito!  Anyway, I have a little van problem and I was hoping you could give me a lift.”

“Well I’m on my way to work – but sure, are you are home?” 

“No, actually…” Joe summoned up the courage and said quickly, “I’m at the cemetery.”   He winced as he heard his friend gasp before saying,

“I’ll be right there!” and then he hung up.

Joe sat down to wait, already dreading how this day was going to go.

* * *

When Tony hung up the phone, he wanted to call Frank right away, but he forced himself not to.  He was a friend to both Frank and Joe, and he decided that if anyone was going to tell Frank about this, it should be Joe. 

However, if it looked like Joe was in over his head, then Tony resolved that he would call Frank immediately.

Twenty minutes later he saw his friend sitting down on the curb, and regretted not calling Frank.  Joe looked terrible.  He was dirty, bruised, tired and….Tony couldn’t exactly put his finger on it, but something didn’t look right with Joe.

* * *

Seeing Tony’s car Joe jumped up, relieved.  He was very tired and cold and just wanted to go home.  But he knew he had to make one more stop before going there.

“Tony, can you drop me off at the police station?  I need to report my van as being stolen.” 

“Are you okay?”  Tony asked, his voice laden with concern for his battered friend.  Maybe Joe had been carjacked or something.

Joe must have known what he was thinking because he nodded his head.

“Yeah, but I couldn’t sleep so I came out here to think…” Tony threw another worried look at Joe, which Joe ignored.  “I fell asleep, and when I woke up the van was gone.  Thanks for coming to get me.  I didn’t want to call home until I could go there in person so they could see I’m okay.”   Tony smiled at that – Joe was always thinking of everyone else.

He also knew that Joe was right.  His family would have been very upset if he called to tell them he was at the cemetery and the van had been stolen.  They would have been terrified that he was hurt…at least he can show them he is okay.

But as Tony stole another glance at Joe, he wondered if his friend was truly okay.

“No problemo, pal.  Do you want me to wait for you?”

“No that’s all right, I’ll ask if someone can give me a lift home or something.”

A short time later Tony dropped Joe off with the promise to see him later at school.  School, groaned Joe, he had almost forgotten that today was still a school day….

* * *

When the blond youth entered the police station he glanced around and noticed that neither Con Riley nor Chief Collig was there – he thought that was strange, as he remembered his Dad saying once that the Chief always came to work early – and as for Con, well it was his turn for the nightshift, which wasn’t over yet.

Joe shrugged.  Oh well, they must be busy.

So sitting down with an officer that he didn’t know, Joe started to file a stolen vehicle report.  The officer was very nice, but raised her eyebrows just slightly when he gave her his name, a description of the vehicle and license plate number. 

“Can you excuse me for a moment?”  she asked as she went over to another desk and made a quick phone call.  A few minutes later, she came back and sat down.

“Joe, your van has been found.”  The boy breathed out in a sigh of relief but he quickly paled as she continued, “It was driven off the Carter Bridge and as we speak, they are dragging the river…looking for your body”.

* * *

Chief Collig’s cell phone rang and he stepped away from the Hardys to answer it, “Hello?  Yes…Yes…WHAT? Are you sure?  Don’t let him go, we’ll be right there!”  Looking at his phone in disbelief, he then put it away and walked back over to where Fenton and Frank stood. 

Putting a comforting hand on Fenton’s shoulders, he smiled broadly at the father and son.  “Joe’s just fine – it wasn’t him driving the van!”

Frank felt weak but this time with relief, and the Chief continued, “Apparently, a bit bedraggled looking but no worse for wear, Joe Hardy just showed up at the police station and filed a report – he was reporting the theft of his van!”

* * *

The drive to the police station was just a blur to Frank’s mind, as he was filled with so many emotions.  The strongest one was relief that his brother was okay, but this was quickly being replaced by anger – what was Joe doing out at that hour in the morning – didn’t he know that they would be worried sick about him? 

By the time Frank saw his brother, he was furious with him.

* * *

Joe jumped up from the chair he had been sitting on and was enveloped in a big hug by his father as he heard the older man’s voice breaking.  “I thought I had lost you… again.”  He held his son for a long time before releasing him and wiping his eyes.

Joe turned to face Frank, but froze when he saw the look in his brother’s eyes.  Instead of looking happy to see him, Frank looked outraged, and instead of embracing him, he turned coldly away from him and walked back out the door.

Stunned, Joe tried to run after his brother but his father stopped him.  “No son, let him go.  We were all very worried about you…and…” his words trailed off as he didn’t quite know what to say. 

Fenton had seen the look of anger on his older son’s face, and while he understood it, as he himself was angry, he also knew that now was not the time to deal with it.  They all needed to get home. 

Joe nodded his head numbly and followed his father to his car; noticing that Frank was sitting in the front seat, he climbed into the back.  His older brother did not even look at him.

As his father navigated the roads home, Joe stared out the window.  How could I have messed up so bad? he thought.  No matter what he had ever done, Frank had always been there for him and now... well, now Joe felt like he lost something worse than the van that morning – he had lost his big brother.

* * *

“Oh baby, are you okay?” Laura Hardy exclaimed as she hugged her younger son.  Taking in his disheveled appearance, she made him lie down on the couch while she fixed him something warm to drink. 

Frank just went up to his room, and a few minutes later, Joe heard the shower start and knew he was getting ready for school.

Sure enough, half an hour later, Frank came back downstairs and quickly called Chet, and then Biff to let him know that Chet would pick him up for school.

Without a glance at his brother, Frank grabbed two pieces of toast from the table and then went out the garage.  Joe heard the sound of his new motorcycle being started and then Frank left for school.

“I gotta go to school,” Joe insisted, starting to get up from the table where he had just finished a breakfast of eggs and bacon. 

But his father held up his hand.  “We need to talk first, son.”  Fenton Hardy had decided that Joe was recovered enough to tell them what happened. 

Joe started to pick at a hangnail on his thumb.  “I couldn’t sleep so I went for a drive.”  He stopped, hoping that that would be enough – it didn’t work.

“And?”

“And I drove for a long time?”

Fenton decided to cut to the chase.  “How did the van get stolen?”

“I… um…well, “Joe took a deep breath and then just blurted out, “I ended up at the cemetery and someone stole it while I was there!”

He didn’t need to add that he had fallen asleep or that he had been visiting Iola, because he saw a stricken look cross over his father’s face, and heard his mother quietly gasp – they knew why he was there.

Fenton Hardy didn’t know what to say.  He had hoped that his son had finally gotten over his girlfriend’s death, but it looked like he had regressed a little.  Then keeping in mind that Joe had just recovered from amnesia, he realized that his memories of Iola would seem a bit fresher.

He decided Joe was probably going through enough without him trying to punish him.  Besides, he had seen how Frank was reacting and knew that Joe was already being punished worse than anything he or Laura could have come up with.

“Fine, I’ll give you a ride to school.”

Glumly, Joe grabbed his books and went to wait in his father’s car.  He was actually looking forward to going to school as a distraction from his home life…and that scared him even more. 

* * *

With a quick wave, Fenton dropped his son off in front of the school a few minutes before the bell rang.  Joe noticed his motorcycle parked beside Queen and wished he had been the first one to get to ride it. 

Sighing regretfully, he eyed his cast and longed for it to come off – but that wasn’t for a couple of weeks, yet. 

Just as he reached the door he heard his cell phone ring.  His first thought was just to turn it off but then realized that it was probably Pharaoh, and he would be worried if Joe didn’t answer. 

As he was saying hello, he wondered why he was calling so late.  Pharaoh knew he should have been in school by now – and then he felt a gnawing worry in his stomach.

Preoccupied with everything that had happened earlier, he had not even noticed that Pharaoh had missed calling him before breakfast – Pharaoh was never late.

“Hello?” he said and then paled as he heard the voice on the other end of the phone.

“Joe…help me…”

There was a loud crash and the line went dead.

Frantically Joe pushed the memory key and heard the tones of each number as the phone dialed and started to ring.  The phone was still ringing five minutes later as Joe Hardy hoped in a cab and headed to the airport.  There was only one thought on his mind – my ‘brother’ needs me.  And he added, bitterly, at least one of them does….

* * *

Coming over to sit at the table with his friends, Frank noticed that Joe was not there, and just figured he had used everything as an excuse to stay home.

Chet Morton glanced around the lunchroom before asking, “Where’s Joe?  I didn’t see him in class this morning.”

Frank snorted, “Probably home being as selfish as ever.”

He never noticed Tony stop in mid-bite of his sandwich and turn his attention to him.

“He was out joy riding last night and somehow managed to get our van stolen.  It ended up in the river.  You know he never even had the consideration to call us and tell us what had happened!  Chief Collig showed up at our door and we all thought he’d been in the van when it went over and was…was dead!”  His eyes flickered briefly as he remembered how he had felt standing beside the bridge. 

“Did you ask him what happened?”  Tony asked carefully, watching Frank.

“No, I didn’t need to.  You know I love him, but he’s just so careless and thoughtless!  I’m beginning to think he’s just concerned about doing whatever Joe wants, regardless of the circumstances!”

Frank knew he was being harsh but it was the stress of all the recent events hitting home that was making him feel this way.

He was very happy to have his brother back, but he just wished Joe was the old Joe. 

Ever since his brother had returned he was different.  Frank couldn’t put his finger on it but he knew things had changed.  Especially Pharaoh-type things, he thought bitterly.

“Frank…”  Tony started, as he knew that’s not what happened, “you should talk to Joe – I don’t think it’s like that.  Come on, Joe is one of the least selfish people I know.  Heck, he’s always getting into trouble because he’s just jumping in without any regard to what might happen to him…” he trailed off taking a sip of his pop.  “It’s just, well…I’m the one who dropped him off at the police station.”

“What?” Frank blurted out, as he wondering what was going on.

“I was on my way for the deliveries when he called me and asked me to pick him up.  He said his van was stolen and he needed a lift to the police station.  I dropped him off and went on to work.”

“Where was he?”  asked Phil as he finished peeling an orange and offered everyone a section.  Tony accepted one before answering, he avoided looking at Chet or Frank, as he was deciding whether or not it was his place to tell. 

Then remembering Frank’s earlier remarks, he knew he needed to clarify things.

“At the cemetery.”