Summary: Frank and Joe have just solved a murder, and you would think they'd be happy right? The Hardys are always supposed to bounce back to their own lives...but what is Joe really thinking?

Originally posted a few months back, I decided to resurface and redo this one-shot! Hopefully this is better than the first version!

Disclaimer: I DO NOT own any of the characters in the Hardy Boy books.

Warning: Foul Language

A Look Into My Heart

Exhaustion engulfing his entire body, young Frank Hardy crashed heavily onto the cushioned couch. Turning on the television with a quick flick of the remote, he relaxed, letting the warmth of the Hardy home comfort his weary bones.

Frank and Joe, his year-younger and polar opposite brother, had just returned home after finishing up a case in New York. One revenge minded killer and a cold, dead body later here he was. Sighing he ran a hand through his chocolate colored hair, focusing his attention on the late night news.

"And here we have it folks!" the reporter's voice boomed through the TV's speakers, "They've done it again! Beloved teenage detectives Franklin and Joseph Hardy, sons of well-known Fenton Hardy, have solved another thrilling case. Although the New York Police Department has failed to release any further details to the public, we were able to obtain basic information on the case.

"Nineteen year-old Christopher Porter was stabbed late last Friday night, receiving almost thirty blows to his stomach and upper torso. The killer has been identified as Rachael Porter, the victim's half-sister. The Hardy-" Frank turned off the television as the victim's picture, along with his sister's, was plastered on the screen. He shook his head, they were always so young. Too young…

"I should probably catch some sleep," he said aloud, to the empty space. "I'm beat." His words echoed along the walls, bouncing the sound to his ears. He felt alone in the foreign quiet. Fenton had surprised Laura with a vacation to Hawaii, where they planned on spending their honeymoon and renew their vows. Gertrude was visiting a friend from her high school years, and Joe had headed to bed early. This behavior was odd for the younger Hardy, usually Frank was the first brother to turn in.

Pausing at the closed oak door separating Joe's bedroom from the hall, he whispered, "Good night, little brother." He prayed Joe was not sick, it was like him to retire so early, even after a case. Usually the house would be filled with his triumphant laughter of another job well-done, or the faint sounds of Joe watching TV would float into his room.

Frank was awoken abruptly at one-thirty, by the heart-shattering screams emerging from Joe's room. He leapt out of bed, tripping over the covers tangled around his feet. Frank kicked them off angrily, racing with new found adrenalin, through the bathroom joining the two rooms.

He practically kicked his brother's door down, caring only for Joe's safety. His eyes adjusted quickly to the moonlit room, scanning for his brother's soon-to-be-dead attacker. Frank's muscles relaxed a little after he surveyed the room. Besides himself Joe was the only other life form.

The blond haired boy wrestled desperately with his bed sheets. "Frank!" he cried, "Give me back my brother you no-good bastard!" Joe's voice quieted to barely audible whimpers. Frank thought the spell had finally ended. "FRANK!" He spoke to soon, as Joe started to scream again, frightening his older brother.

"Joe...C'mon Joe. Wake up buddy," Frank whispered soothingly, trying to free his brother from the horrifying images. He moved with caution, laying a gentle hand on Joe's shoulder. The younger flinched at the touch, throwing involuntary punches.

"Let go of me!" He yelled, his voice like that of a helpless child. "I just want my brother back."

"Joe, please wake up!" Frank raised the volume of his voice, yelling at his brother would only make things worse, possibly even causing him to have a heart-attack. It seemed to do the trick however, as Joe shot up in bed, eyes wide and fearful. His body was painted in a cold sweat, his breathing jagged. "It's okay Joe, I'm right here." Frank tried to sooth him, rubbing his hand gently across his back. His mother always did this when the boys were younger, crying late at night from dreams of monsters and villains.

"Frank?" He asked, looking at his brother as though it was the first time he had ever seen him. His voice was low as he said, "It was only a dream."

"More like a nightmare," Frank stated simply. Watching his brother's muscles relax, he removed his hand from Joe's back. "Are you alright?"

Joe though about it for a moment. "Yeah," the word seemed dull. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"What were you dreaming about?" Frank asked, hoping the question was okay at such an early time. "What could have scared you that badly? I heard your screams from my room." He looked to the open bathroom door into his own room. "You freaked the hell out of me." Joe twisted the pale blue sheet around his hand, the soft fabric seemed quieting, peaceful.

"The Chris Porter situation." His blue eyes glazed with unearth tears. Dammit Hardy, he thought angrily, wiping at the tears. You're too old to cry. It was just a nightmare, stop it! Frank shifted uncomfortably, usually cases did not have a hard impact on the boys. He remained quiet, nodding for his brother to continue. "I remember seeing Chris' body at the morgue," he paused. "The first thing I thought was, 'he looks a lot like Frank.'"

Before and after images filled the boy's mind. In a sense it was true. Chris Porter had to be about Frank's height, with the same chestnut hair, and large, dark brown eyes. Their facial features ranged some, but they could have switched places with ease. Frank shudder at the thought.

"There were so many times…" Joe continued, his voice breaking, "that I could have lost you." He met his brother's eyes, locking onto them. "Every time we accept a case death is a possibility. I never realized it until Chris." Joe hung his head sadly. "I don't…don't know what I'd do without you."

"Chin up, little brother!" Frank teased playfully. "You'll never lose me. You can't get rid of me that easily."

"I'm serious, Frank!" Joe tightened his grip on the sheet. "Anything can happen. And in this harsh world…" he looked off in disgust. "There are so many sick bastards out there. So many criminals who hurt people and are never caught."

"But what about the ones that are caught? Is that not a plus?"

"It doesn't change anything. A man could abuse and then murder a little boy, even if he does get prison time what good comes from it? What about the boy's family? They'll never have their son back! They won't be able to watch him grow into a man! And the scum-bag that hurt him? He could get out early on good-behavior." Frank was surprised at the bitter tone of his brother's voice.

"Joe…"he said softly, reaching out to touch his brother's arm.

"You can't bring people back from the dead. You can't safe everyone, no matter how hard you try." Tears flowed slowly down his cheeks. "I would die if I lost you Frank!" Emotion caught in Joe's throat, making it harder from his to breath. He cried in choked sobs, he tried shoving the pain down.

Frank grabbed him in a hug, trying to calm the stressed boy. He never knew Joe felt this way. People always expected the Hardys to bounce back, to be able to tackle another case within days. Even Frank had started to believe the rumors. He was so caught up in the tangle of mystery he was always ready, even after near-death experiences. They seemed so natural, so unreal. Rescue was always there, death never crossed his mind. "You'll never lose me," he repeated, releasing his brother. "I promise."

"You can't make that kind of promise."

"I'm not saying I can live forever, but if anything ever does happen to me, you will never truly lose me. I'll always be in your heart, and as long as you remember me I'll always be here." He smiled. "Just don't forget me and we're good." When Joe did not even crack a smile he said, "We'd meet again someday."

"What if I can't wait that long? I lost Iola, and waking up ever day, seeing the same old sights, was like experiencing hell. But you're my brother, you've been there for me since birth. If I lost you…" he tried clearing his throat. "If I lost you, than even hell would seem like a blessing."

"We're a team. Wherever you go I'll be there, right beside you. I will never let anything happen to you. Not even the bad of the bad will come between us." He held out his hand. "I've always got your back."

Joe put his hand in his brother's, an arm wrestling like grip, unbreakable and strong. Just like their brotherhood. "You've got my back, and I will always have yours." Joe cracked a smile. "Looks like we'll be sharing a bathroom until college then."

"Yeah," Frank returned the joyful smile. "Now, to seal the deal, how about we grab some hot chocolate and doughnuts?"

Hoping that it is better than the original version, tell me what you think!

And as always, I am open to criticism flames, not ones that say "you suck" or anything like that.

Thanks for reading.

Love,

B.C.A