Joe sat on the bed for several moments staring at his older brother, staggered by Frank’s confession. The only sound in the room was Frank’s ragged breathing, although Joe was sure he could hear the echo of his own wildly beating heart bouncing off the walls. Frank was still perched on the other bed, hunched forward, his shoulders trembling slightly. Oddly, Joe was struck by how ‘controlled’ the aftermath of Frank’s total meltdown was. He was thinking how very like his brother that was when suddenly Frank looked up at him. His deep brown eyes locked on Joe for a second and then Frank got up, grabbed his jacket and left without saying a word.

Joe scrambled up from the bed. His first thought was to go after Frank, try to talk to him, but something stopped him. Something deep inside him understood…isn’t that usually what Joe himself did when things got too hard to handle? Run? Slowly he walked to the window and pulled back the curtain. His car was still in the lot as was an unfamiliar car parked next to it – Frank’s rental car, he presumed, and he relaxed a little. Frank was on foot, probably just trying to clear his head and regroup before facing Joe again. He’d be back… eventually. In the meantime, Joe realized, he had plenty of time to think.

Letting the curtain drop, he fell heavily into one of the chairs and shook his head dazedly. He’d had no idea Frank had harbored such intense memories of the explosion – or the terrifying fear of what very well could have happened that day.

“You would have died with her! Both of you would have died! You would be DEAD!”

‘What would have happened that day,’ Joe corrected himself, suddenly feeling chilled to the bone.

Joe had always assumed that, had things turned out differently, he would have gone back to the car alone and been killed instead of Iola. He had never once considered the scenario that had been haunting Frank for so many years; but now that he did, he had to agree…his brother was right. Had he not been flirting with another girl that day, Joe would have gone to the car to get the brochures at Iola’s request and she would have gone right along with him. Neither of them would have passed up the opportunity for a few minutes alone to sneak a few kisses…

Joe closed his eyes as the truth hit him hard. ‘And we both would have died…’

Frank’s hidden fear and painful confession, finally voiced, seared through his soul. “I don’t care what kind of a monster it makes me, I thank God every day that I did not lose my brother in that explosion. Losing Iola was bad enough…losing you too would have been…”

Joe shivered, acknowledging how easily Frank’s deepest fear could have been reality and wondered how his brother had lived with that knowledge all these years without letting it tear him apart…

*****

Walking down the dark, deserted street, Frank blew on his hands trying to warm them up. They were only a few hundred miles northwest of Bayport but the area was more mountainous and much cooler than he was used to, even for early spring. Giving up, he stuffed has hands into his jacket pockets, hunched his shoulders against the chill in the air and continued to walk.

It had been a long time – years – since he’d been so vividly reminded of the explosion and how it so easily could have ended in Joe’s death, and the memory shook him to the core. While Joe often kept things bottled up inside, always denying there was a problem, it was always there, bubbling just below the surface. However in true perfectionist Frank Hardy style, Frank had buried his worst fear so deep even he had forgotten it existed – until tonight. He’d kept that one fear entombed in his soul, so far from conscious thought that he was rarely reminded how close he’d come to facing life without his brother. But now it had been unearthed and was consuming his every thought.

‘He could’ve died.’

Frank picked up the pace and shivered again, though this time not from the cold.

‘He would have died…’

He walked faster still, thankful Joe had never heeded his brotherly advice to remain steadfastly loyal to his girlfriend, absolutely sure that Joe’s seemingly incurable need to flirt saved his life that day. ‘I’m sorry, Iola…I’m so sorry…’

Suddenly, Frank had a small inkling of the kind of guilt Joe had been living with for so long. He’d always cared about Iola, first as the little sister of one of his best friends and then as his brother’s first love and his own girlfriend’s best friend. How could he possibly reconcile those feelings with the relief that Joe had no qualms about flirting in front of her; that Joe had hurt Iola so badly she stalked off without him and died alone? Knowing if Joe had listened to him, if Joe had done the right thing by his girlfriend he’d be dead too…

For a brief moment, Frank saw the blinding explosion, so vivid he could almost feel the searing heat. However, as had happened in the nightmares that routinely woke him in the months following Iola’s death, Frank wasn’t holding Joe back, trying to keep him from running headlong into the flames. This time Frank was alone in the parking lot, the grief and pain and loss opening a well of emptiness in his soul that could never be filled.

Unlike Joe, who woke up screaming in the night when his worst demons invaded his dreams, Frank simply awoke drenched in a cold sweat, his heart pounding in his chest, unable to catch his breath. He doubted anyone in his family even knew he’d been plagued by nightmares for a long time after the explosion. Unhappily, Frank resigned himself to the fact that more than likely that very same nightmare, the one that he’d almost forgotten about, would be making a reappearance tonight.

Frank shuddered, feeling very unsettled. He hadn’t had to deal with the memories and the fear of what might have been, in years – and he wasn’t ready to deal with them now. He rarely lost control and couldn’t remember the last time he let his emotions rule him; the feeling was completely alien to him.

‘Wonder if this is what it feels like to be Joe,’ he thought with dark humor.

The youngest Hardy most often thought with his heart first, letting his passions and emotions dictate his actions, something Frank had never understood. But as foreign a concept as that was to Frank, it seemed to work for Joe. ‘Well…most of the time…’ There had been times when Frank wished Joe wasn’t so headstrong, but then he admitted if Joe wasn’t so passionate in his beliefs, he wouldn’t be Joe.

Frank suddenly realized the very thing that so often drove him crazy about his younger brother, was the very thing that had brought him here. While Joe could be a master at hiding his true feelings from strangers, when it came to his family it was all but impossible. Frank had come here tonight because, despite his best efforts, Joe wasn’t able to hide his feelings from Frank.

Frank had easily picked up the signals Joe was sending out from their very first phone conversation. With each subsequent conversation Frank could hear Joe slowly unraveling, trying to keep those he loved at arm’s length while at the same time sending out warning signs that he did not want to be alone.

Frank sighed and reached up to rub the back of his neck. He could feel the beginnings of a stress headache settling in. He’d been here less than an hour and in that short period of time he felt as if he’d lost complete control of everything. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been hit with so many paralyzing emotions at once. Finding out Joe might have a son; being so brutally reminded of how close he’d come to losing his brother all those years ago; wondering if Joe really did trust him, or worse – if he could no longer trust Joe…

As he walked, Frank felt the cool metal of the bracelet pressing against his skin and felt an old familiar sadness settle over him. Joe swore his trust in Frank was stronger than ever so why hadn’t Joe told him about Jodi? Had Joe really meant what he said or was he just trying to placate Frank, tired of the unresolved issue of trust hanging over them?

He shook his head, quickly dismissing the thought. While Joe had a knack for stretching the truth to fit his own purposes, he wouldn’t lie. Not to Frank and not about something so important. There had to be another reason, but Frank was at a loss as to what that could be.

Frank scrubbed a hand over his face knowing he was too emotionally drained to think clearly right now and that exhaustion was clouding his judgment. He and Joe had things to work out, there was no doubt about that, but tonight was not the time to do it. Deciding to push the haunting memories and disconcerting feelings aside, he chose to focus on his brother and the reason for his trip instead. He couldn’t imagine what Joe had been going through the past two days, wondering if he had a son and worrying about how it would change his life if he did. Turning around, Frank started back towards the motel. A heavy sadness still hung over him, but he was sure he could keep it at bay as long as Joe didn’t press him. Walking up to room ten, he raised his hand and knocked on the door…

*****

Joe glanced at his watch again and wondered if he should go after Frank. He’d been gone almost an hour. It was dark and this was an unfamiliar town. Normally he wouldn’t worry, Frank could take care of himself, but he’d been so upset when he left Joe wasn’t sure Frank was even aware of his surroundings. A loud knock on the door caused Joe to jump. Getting up from the chair, he crossed the short distance to the door and pulled it open not bothering with the peephole. Frank stood in the doorway for a moment and Joe had a strange sense of déjà vu. Silently he walked back into the room. Frank hesitated for a moment and then came in, quietly closing the door behind him. Frank didn’t say a word, he simply stood just inside the room, his hands stuffed deep in his pockets.

Joe stood watching his older brother, trying to read his face, his eyes, trying to get some idea of what he was thinking, but other than a weary sadness, Joe had no idea what was going through Frank’s mind.

Seconds passed, turning into minutes and Frank still didn’t move. Another minute passed and Frank finally offered a mumbled ‘Sorry’ as he took off his jacket and threw it on the chair. He started for the bathroom when Joe’s voice stopped him.

“You’re not, you know.”

Slowly Frank turned and looked at Joe. He didn’t speak but his dark eyes were questioning.

“A monster…you’re not a monster,” Joe clarified.

Frank shifted his gaze, looking at the window over Joe’s shoulder and shook his head. “I doubt the Mortons would agree with you.”

“Maybe not, but I think they might understand,” Joe said, taking a tentative step forward. “If they could go back to that day and choose who died – me or Iola – do you think they’d hesitate for a second to change the outcome?” he asked pointedly. “It wouldn’t make them monsters – just human.”

“I guess,” Frank whispered in agreement. He looked down and absently fingered the bracelet on his wrist. Joe watched, his heart tightening in his chest; that one simple gesture spoke more than any words Frank could have uttered. Joe had confided in Vanessa and shut Frank out. He knew he had some serious damage control ahead of him. It really hadn’t been an issue of trust; he just hoped he could make Frank understand that.

Frank turned away again, heading for the bathroom when Joe suddenly spoke, fearing he’d lose his nerve if he didn’t.

“Frank…I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you—”

Frank held up a hand, surprising him and stopping him cold. “Not now, Joe.”

”But…”

“Not now!” Frank spun around and faced him and Joe took a step backwards without even realizing it. “This isn’t over, I agree. But I don’t want to do this now. I came here tonight because I was worried about you. Very worried…” Frank stopped, concern overcoming the pain that had been lingering in his eyes. “First we find the boy, find out for sure whether or not he’s your son…once that’s resolved then we’ll deal with the rest of it, okay?”

Joe frowned, not sure letting this fester between them was the best idea. Absently he was struck by the irony of the situation. Usually it was Frank trying to get him to open up and talk, while he was adamant everything was fine. Then again, Frank wasn’t saying there was nothing wrong, only that now wasn’t the time to address it. He stared at his brother noting the mix of emotions – pain, sadness, disappointment – and sheer exhaustion on his face.

“Okay,” Joe finally agreed. Frank obviously wasn’t in the right frame of mind for a possibly explosive heart-to-heart talk.

Frank nodded once and headed for the bathroom.

As the bathroom door closed softly, Joe sank down onto the bed and closed his eyes. A chill settled over him as he wondered if there were any words that could fix this. They’d worked so hard to re-establish the trust, the bond that was so often Joe’s anchor, sometimes the only thing that kept him from drowning in his own fears. Joe threw an arm over his eyes recalling with stunning clarity how vehemently he’d argued with Jodi, insisting that telling his family was the right thing to do. A dull ache settled in his chest as Joe wondered if ignoring his gut instincts and what he believed was right, if giving in to Jodi out of a misguided sense of responsibility would now cost him his brother’s trust?

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Disclaimer

The Hardy Boys belong to Simon and Schuster and the Stratemeyer Foundation. The Hardy Boys Fan Fiction authors of the Hardy Detective Agency have just borrowed them for an adventure or two. The authors promise to put the boys back when they are done with them. The authors do claim copyright to the original characters in this story. Please do not borrow original characters without express permission of the authors.