HDA - Living in Darkness Trilogy - Pt 2 - The Search

The darkness faded slowly, becoming a solid mass of gray that coalesced over everything around Joe. He rubbed at his aching head as he tried to remember why his head hurt and why he didn't want to open his eyes. He sniffed cautiously, inhaling the damp, frigid air all round.

Joe frowned. If I hurt my head I should be in a hospital, right?

But it didn't smell right for a hospital. In fact, it smelled totally wrong. He knew hospitals – he knew them only too well – and what he smelled…

Basement. I'm in a basement…oh, God… Derak!

Joe shot upright on the bed and groaned in agony when hot streaks shot through his head. He blinked and rubbed at his head, trying to force the world to stop spinning by the simple act of sitting still, and he squeezed his eyes shut again, waiting for the swirling to stop and become a single fixed point in his mind. Finally, he could cautiously open his eyes and look around the room. He saw the broken folding chair leaning up against the wall he checked earlier, and sighed, wishing he had more sense than to climb onto a chair like that.

That's what you get for desperation, Hardy, he thought with a grumble. What would Frank say? He'd tell you to find a way but be cautious and don't get hurt, that's what he would say. Never mind what Mandy would tell you right now. Be thankful she's not here to make your head hurt worse.

Joe sighed and pulled his legs up, wrapping his arms around them and laying his head on his knees. He closed his eyes again and tried to relax, to give his head a rest while he sat still, but found he could only sit still for a few minutes. He really hated just waiting here. I want action. I want out. I want to go home!

And I really need to go to the bathroom.

Joe sighed and tentatively raised his head back up off his knees, moving slowly so as not to jar his aching head again. He wondered just how bad the concussion was this time; he'd had a few in his life and this one didn't feel as bad as the worst, but definitely worse than the best.

You're not making any sense, Hardy, Joe thought gruffly while he slid his feet back onto the floor. He didn't bother with his slippers as he cautiously got to his feet and used the wall beside the bed to hold onto while he walked toward the bathroom.

So far, so good. Joe slid into the bathroom and draped his towel around his waist before doing what he needed to do. He sighed when he came out and looked around the room.

Why is he keeping me here? Joe slid back across the floor to the bed. Why is he just keeping me locked up? Why doesn't he try something again?

Not that Joe wanted Derak to try something. He cringed when he thought of the other room and what Derak had done to him there. He got up again and flew back to the bathroom, not caring about his head, as he threw up what little he had in his stomach into the toilet. He sank to the floor for a moment, pressing his face into his hands as he tried to push the thoughts and memory away

There are things worse than a hurting head. Joe sniffed and wiped his eyes. I'm not going to cry any more, that's for sure. It happened. It's done and I'm not going to…not going to lose any more sleep over it. Or my lunch.

I'll just feed Derak his feet when I do get out of here, he thought grimly. That'll work.

** ** **

"So, are you ready to live a life free of therapy, young Mr. Hardy?"

Seventeen-year-old Joe Hardy smiled at his psychiatrist and nodded at her, a smile on his face as he settled his long, lanky frame into the seat opposite her. Kalana Morgan had been the most awesome psychiatrist on the planet, as far as Joe was concerned. When he'd first started seeing her, he had been an abused, terrified, ten-year-old. Now, seven years later, he was seeing her for the last time.

A sort of good-bye.

"I think so," he admitted. "It's time, Dr. Morgan. I've loved coming to see you, you know. I mean, I know I wasn't so into it at first but…but you've really helped me and…and…"

"I know, Joe," Kalana smiled and flipped her long auburn hair out of her face again. Dr. Morgan's green eyes were piercing for a moment, studying Joe thoroughly before she spoke again.

"Your nightmares are gone now," she said with a small smile. "You realize what happened with your uncle is in no way your fault and you're one of the most well-adjusted young men I've ever met. I think you'll be fine, laddo."

Joe grinned and nodded. "I know, I'm a vision of perfection, all the ladies will be swooning."

Kalana sobered up a moment and studied Joe, reaching out a hand to him to take his into hers.

"What about what happened to your girlfriend?" she asked. "How have you adjusted to that?"

Joe paled slightly and sighed. There was just no hiding anything from Kalana. Maybe this wouldn't be his last day in therapy after all.

"I…" he sighed and shook his head. "It's my fault…"

Kalana stared at him, waiting.

"She got mad at me, Doctor Morgan," Joe continued. "And she left. She went to the car to get the fliers, instead of me, and she was angry with me because…because I was flirting with another girl…and she died instead of me. It's my fault."

Kalana continued to wait.

"I should have gone after her faster," Joe said. "I could have stopped her and gotten the fliers instead of her. Then she'd be alive…and…and…"

"You'd be dead," Kalana said, quietly. "Is that what you want, Joe? Do you want to be dead?"

"No…NO!" Joe shouted, springing to his feet. "I don't want to be dead, but I don't want Iola to be dead either. And she is. She died…."

He dissolved then into tears, and Kalana moved forward, taking him into her arms and holding him tightly, rocking him back and forth. Joe sobbed into her shoulder, crying as he never cried before, not even when Derak hurt him.

When he finally sat back, he was thoroughly embarrassed for having collapsed like that, but Kalana pulled him to his feet and put him back into the chair.

"What happened to Iola wasn't your fault, Joe," Kalana said. "You've probably heard this from your brother and sister and your parents, right?"

Joe nodded, feeling numb.

"Sure, you might have been a jerk," Kalana smiled; she wasn't passing judgment, she was stating how JOE felt. "But you never wished her to die, did you?"

"Never," Joe swallowed nervously. "Never. I never wanted her to die, Doctor Morgan."

"I'm not going to dismiss your feelings, Joe," Kalana continued. "I know you feel responsible, because of what happened beforehand. But I want you to process this. You didn't know the bomb was in the car. You didn't know that someone had decided to kill you and your brother. And since you didn't know, you can't be responsible for her death. Right?"

"I guess so," Joe said, miserably. "But…it still hurts, Doctor Morgan."

"I know," Kalana said. "Like what happened with your uncle and with Frank's illness, this is going to be hard to deal with, Joe. It's going to take time to work through – and the pain may never totally go away – but you can do it. You can know that you had nothing to do with Iola’s death. You know how now, don't you?"

Joe nodded.

"I think we should have at least one more session, maybe a few more," Kalana said. "I know this was going to be your last, but I don't want to release you until I know you're 100 percent. All right?"

Joe nodded. "Okay," he agreed, softly. "If…if you want…."

"If you want," Kalana stressed. "It's up to you. I'm not forcing you back."

Joe thought about it for a moment. "I…think I should come back again. Until…until I feel better - about Iola."

Kalana smiled and patted his head. "You're a good kid, Joe Hardy. I don't say that to just any patient, but you'll be fine. You are stronger than a lot of grown-ups I know. Now, scat – go be with your family and help yourself. I'll see you this time next week, all right?"

Joe agreed and impulsively reached out to hug his doctor. She returned it, then pointed him toward the door, shooing him along.

** ** **

Joe looked up again, not sure why he thought of that particular day. He loved Iola back then, sure, but now she was more of a ghost and a memory than a real person. Someone he loved. And regretted losing.

But he had loved Vanessa with everything he had and now she was gone.

Joe slumped over sideways on the bed and laid his head gingerly on the pillow. He fell asleep within seconds rather than minutes, wrapped up in the blanket.

** ** **

Joe woke slowly to darkness again, this time caused by the lack of light within the room. Obviously Derak visited again; he'd left the light on in the bathroom when he'd come out and now it was off again. The darkness was solid, no way to see through it, and Joe blinked his eyes several times, rubbing at his head to try and ease the persistent ache.

Joe sat up slowly, giving his head time to adjust to the new position, and [he] looked around, trying to see through the darkness within the room.

The younger Hardy brother nearly jumped through the roof when he heard a voice ask, querulously, "Who…who's there?"

Joe swallowed hard, and looked back through the darkness. A thought came to him, as well as a bigger sense of dread.

"Andrew?"

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Disclaimer

The Hardy Boys belong to Simon and Schuster and the Stratemeyer Foundation. The authors 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.