Hardy Boys Fan Fiction at the HDA - Brain Child

Fenton had been going back and forth with the police, lawyers, the crime lab—anything he could do to help his son of this mess. He had done the right thing in allowing Frank to be taken here, he knew that—but the knowledge did nothing to lessen his pain or his guilt.

Joe was with Vanessa; he had to be. When Vanessa had been questioned, he hadn't left her side. He stayed with her as she recalled her attack and Daley's words; he stayed with her the entire evening, his body never physically losing contact with hers at all. He had begun to realize a lot of things about his life as a result of this case, and the magnitude of how much he loved Vanessa was more evident than he had even realized. What if Daley HAD hurt her? Raped her? Killed her? There would be no reason for him to keep living. Vanessa was his everything--- and he had been a complete fool not to tell her that every hour in every day. He would not make that mistake again.

Joe still could not stop the tears that never really left him. He had lost his brother in a very real sense. His wonderful and kind brother had seen what Joe had vowed he never would--- the loss of innocence. When Frank had thought Callie had been killed, he had been irreparably altered. He would KNOW what real loss and pain was about—that would be bad enough.

But still, Joe would have bet his life that his brother could never have killed anyone—ever. Frank was strong; he could take care of himself, and he was a formidable opponent. But he was, if nothing else, an empathetic person—he was always there for everyone, tried to see things from people's points of view.

That meant that the fact that Frank had thought he had lost Callie had had an even greater effect on him than even Joe had realized… and why shouldn't it have? Joe had acted out for years after Iola's death, but they had only been kids then. But Callie—well, she was the world to Frank; Joe knew that. Her loss would have been too much for Frank to take—even now, the thought must have made him go beyond who he was to kill a man.

He grieved deeply for the loss of the brother whom he grew up believing he knew better than anyone else and who, he now realized, he didn't know at all.

Fenton, Joe, Vanessa, the Shaws, Nancy and Ned, Andrea… everyone who had been involved in this case was waiting for some news of Frank here, in the station.

All of a sudden, four men walked into the room. Chief Collig, a lawyer, and what seemed to be two people from the crime lab came to the center of the room.

Collig cleared his throat before speaking. "I think there's something you all should know…."

*****

Joe entered the back room of the station where Frank was being held in what was essentially a cell. One of the officers opened the door for him and he sat down next to his brother. The door remained open.

"You're free to go," the officer said.

Frank looked up and nodded.

"Give me a minute, okay?" Joe asked, looking at the officer, who nodded in agreement.

When he was gone, Joe turned to his brother, almost at a complete loss. Frank sat in silence and stared ahead.

Finally, Joe could take it no longer. "Frank!" He said loudly, turning to his brother. "Why the hell didn't you say something?!"

Frank shrugged. "It doesn't matter."

"The hell it doesn't!" Joe yelled and stood up, facing him. "Look at me!"

His voice was so forceful that Frank did as he was told.

Joe had tears in his eyes. "I'm not always great at expressing my feelings in an articulate way," he began, controlling his voice, "but it's better than you because you NEVER articulate your feelings! So I'm going to try, and you're going to listen, okay?"

"Joe---" Frank cut in.

"No! This is too much!" Joe yelled, and then again lowered his voice. "I'm furious, I'm relieved and incredibly happy, and I want to punch you in the head. How's that for a mixed bag, huh?"

"Joe, I'm sorry," Frank said quietly.

"Sorry?!" Joe asked, incredulous. "Sorry?! Bro, I was going to take the rap for you on this! I… I… Why didn't you tell me that you didn't shoot him?"

Frank shook his head, face expressionless. "It doesn't matter," he repeated.

"Stop saying that! What's the matter with you?" Joe was openly crying now. He couldn't help himself. "Collig and the guys from the lab just came in. There were two bullet holes, Frank. I'm sure one was in self- defense; the one that killed him was from the one in his hand. He killed HIMSELF! Did you ever think of – you know—maybe MENTIONING that before Collig had to go crazy, Dad had to let you get arrested, Vanessa had to be dragged down here, and Callie had to find out about this? God, Frank—I don't understand!"

The mention of Callie's name caused a discernable shiver to go through Frank. "Callie knows?"

There was something so raw in Frank's question that Joe had to pause a moment. He shook his head and wiped back the tears. "No," Joe answered honestly. "I kept my word—she doesn't know yet."

Frank looked at his brother and reached out, touching his arm. Joe looked at him in such confusion that Frank felt terrible.

"Joe, I'm sorry," Frank responded at last. "I knew that the whole thing would get discovered quickly enough and I guess I wasn't really thinking. I … I can't tell you how much it meant to me that you were willing to---"

"No, you can't!" Joe snapped. "That's a hell of a time to 'not think', Frank."

Finally, Frank answered. "I didn't want Collig, or dad—or YOU, Joe---to be disappointed in me. I've spent my whole life trying to show you that you have to do the right thing, even if it's hard, even if it seems impossible. I wanted you to believe I was a model for that; that I didn't really make mistakes; that I could rise above temptation."

"What are you talking about?" Joe asked. Frank had finally gotten his attention, because he was being totally honest, and Joe saw it.

"Joe," Frank began, meeting his brother's eyes," When you were a kid, I always tried to be a good role model for you."

"You were, Frank," Joe cut in, but Frank interrupted.

"Listen to me. I KNOW I was. But when Iola died, I watched you fall apart. I tried everything in my power to keep you on the right path, and I… I couldn't do it."

Joe sighed. "Frank, Iola died a long time ago. What does this have to do with anything? And by the way, you DID help. You saved me…" He blushed, recalling those dark years.

"No, I didn't." Frank answered. "Vanessa did."

Joe could only stare at his brother.

"I know you love her. And I also know that she saved you, because I couldn't. You think—you built your life around--- this idea that I'm so innocent, that I never make mistakes, that I don't really feel like you when it comes to wanting vengeance. But you don't totally know me, Joe. I just realized that Dad doesn't, either. And I guess that even means that Callie doesn't as well." Frank looked up, meeting Joe's eyes. "I mean, you know me better than most people, but I guess I've never shown you the real me; the full me."

"I don't follow," Joe answered. He was captivated.

"I've always admired you—because with you, what you see is what you get. You don't have to pretend to be someone you're not. Who I see is who Vanessa sees is who everyone sees. I mean, of course you have things that you share with Vanessa or me that no one else knows, but, for the most part, when people see you, they know you—you're JOE." Frank tried to find the right words. He had worked all of his life not to have this conversation with his brother, but here it was.

"Okayyyyy," Joe answered.

"But with me, Joe—it's different. People expect you to be you—they expect me to be who THEY THINK I AM. Dad expects me to be responsible and the perfect role model, so that's what I give him. You know a lot more than Dad about me, obviously—we've been through so much together. You know we've had a lot of fun over the years, and you know that I can be a lot of things—a good student, a good athlete, a good detective—a good brother. But they all have in common the idea that I'm GOOD at it. So I have to try to be, and I have a lot of pressure not to fail. And I haven't—until now."

"But you ARE good---" Joe said.

"No. I'm okay. Just like you and everyone else. I make mistakes. Callie and I have done everything together, Joe. But through it all, I have to be the one who can protect her, not let her down… I failed there, too."

Joe shook his head. "You DIDN'T fail."

Frank sighed. "Maybe I should be more like you. I think that's what I've gotten out of this case, Joe. Maybe I should tell dad that I hate criminal law and learning the police codes. I should tell him that I hate it when he goes through my files without asking, or when he's late to a meeting. Or that I hate the stupid sweetener he puts in my coffee."

Despite himself, Joe smiled. "You do?" he asked.

"Yeah," Frank replied. "I also kind of admired when you cut school. And you want to know what else?"

"Sure," Joe smiled.

"I make mistakes all the time, Joe—I'm not perfect. I used to pretend that I was mad at you for getting in trouble in school all the time, but I was secretly jealous that you could charm the teachers into not giving you detention. I cheated on a History test once. I blamed Aunt Gertrude once for leaving on the oven at night and almost starting a fire, but guess what? It was me. I was tired and I fell asleep."

Joe laughed. "THIS was your big secret?" he asked. "Man, I thought you were hiding something major from me."

Frank's smile faltered a bit. "Let me go on. I was the one who thought it would be a good idea for Callie and Iola to get involved in politics at school. If I didn't do that, Iola might still be alive."

Joe was stunned. Frank felt GUILTY about Iola's death. "No," he started.

"Yes," Frank answered. "I always try to show you to do the right thing, but what do I do? I do the wrong thing and just don't let you see it. I cut school, too, Joe—A LOT in Senior year of high school. Callie did, too. We just never got caught because the teachers and everyone assumed that we would never do anything like that, and they all bought our excuses. Did you know that?"

Shocked, Joe shook his head.

"I did everything you did, but made you feel guilty about it. I drank before I was 21; I got involved in things I probably shouldn't have on occasion in college. Those same parties you always went to? I was ORGANZING them in college. Did you know I was part of a Fraternity? Did you know that Callie and I have gone on vacations together over the years but told our parents that we were in different places? Did you know that I was offered a full scholarship for baseball to Bayport University but I turned it down?"

"But you went on full scholarship to college," Joe responded, shocked.

"Academic scholarship. There was only one sports scholarship left to go to B.U. It was either me or to be saved for the most promising Senior the next year."

"But…" Then it hit him. Frank was telling him that he had turned down a sports scholarship so that Joe could attend B.U. on a full athletic scholarship. All of these years he'd had no idea.

"I… I don't know what to say," Joe responded honestly. "But still, Frank—I mean, you're human. I'm sorry if I put pressure on you—probably more than I'll ever know—to be a perfect brother, but you know—I mean, you're still the perfect brother to me, okay? Although I do find myself impressed with some of the stunts you pulled…" He smiled.

Frank, however, did not. "You don't understand, Joe. That's the tip of the iceberg. I mean, don't get me wrong—I still think I'm a pretty good guy, but what I'm saying is that maybe, all along, I was wrong not to show you who I really am—totally. Maybe Callie should hear me cursing at the bad guys on our cases or see me in a fight; maybe you should see me mess up and recognize it," he went on.

"Okay," Joe said. "Lighten up, Frank. Stop being so hard on yourself."

Frank met his brother's eyes, totally serious. "LISTEN to me," he urged, again. "The point I'm trying to make is that, since this case, everything really HAS changed for me. I always felt guilty about Iola—I never told you that. But you know what? Now I DO know what you've been through; it's just my outcome was different."

"That I know," Joe answered. "And I'm sorry you had to go through it."

Frank shook his head, wanting desperately for Joe to understand. "Joe, please. This case has made me see that since I show so many sides to so many people, that really—I don't even know myself anymore. I realized that when I was in with Daley. I can't tell you how much rage I felt…" His voice faltered.

"I know," Joe emphasized. "I felt it too, when Iola died. I wanted to kill whoever took her from me. You're preaching to the choir. Believe me, I understand."

"No, you don't." Frank's tone was so serious that Joe was startled. "I finally realized something about myself, Joe. I think my purpose in this life really is to protect the people I love. Above all else, that is you and Callie."

Joe still couldn't speak. Frank NEVER expressed himself like this, and he had a sinking feeling it was leading somewhere he did NOT want to do.

"I do know, now, that bad things really can happen. I guess I've known it all along, but it's never affected me the way that it affected you because of Iola."

"MMM HMMM," Joe murmured, waiting for Frank to come out with it.

"But when Daley almost killed Callie, something snapped inside of me. I could only think about murder. I didn't think I was capable of that."

"Frank," Joe sighed, "You didn't kill Daley."

"You asked me before why I didn't say anything, and I told you that it didn't matter," Frank answered. "Because that's the truth."

"What is?" Joe asked, confused.

"The truth is," Frank answered at last, "That I would have. I pulled the trigger, Joe. I shot him. It was only by pure happenstance that he moved just enough so that my shot didn't kill him. He was so shocked—he heard the police coming, knew what was inevitable. And in the last moment, he picked up the gun by him and shot himself. He only did what I tried to. It wasn't in self-defense, Joe, like you thought it was. He didn't fire at me at all. I just wanted him dead."

Joe stared at Frank in utter shock.

"I think the worst part is that I don't feel bad about it—not at all. So you see, it doesn't matter—what I said was true. Whether I killed him or he killed himself, the end result is the same. And if I had the chance to do it again, the only thing I would do differently is that I'd be a better shot the first time. Then, at least, I could have gotten some sense of closure."

Frank stood up and made his way to the open door. "Let's go, Joe. I hope you don't think I'm a bad person; I hope I didn't completely shatter your conception of me." Tears shone in Frank's eyes. "I want to know why I felt like that. I didn't think I could be the kind of person who would ever intentionally hurt someone else, no matter how bad that person is or was. I just need to sit down and figure myself out—who am I when I don't have you? When I don't have Callie?"

Joe walked over and slung an arm around his brother's shoulders.

"Fortunately, big brother, you'll never have to find that out."

They headed out together, prepared to face whatever the future would hold. Joe only prayed that, finally, it would bring peace for all of them.

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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.