AN: I've been wanting to write these two for a while, but I don't feel that I have their voices yet, so this is really just an attempt to do that. I picked Joe to be the younger one, but I don't know if he actually is.

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters. I make no money from this story, even though the story itself is indeed mine.

Coffee & Fries

Joe just barely heard his mother's sigh of relief over the sound of the automatic doors opening. That didn't mean the sound actually registered though. Head in his hands as he stared at the bland floor of the emergency room waiting room, Joe wasn't paying any attention to his surroundings. Hushed voices broke through the otherwise still room, but even that did not break him from the snare of his torturous memory. He replayed the events as if he hadn't been doing so constantly since the doctors wheeled Frank past the waiting room.

"Joe?"

Joe thought he might have understood the word that seemed to have come from just in front of him. Yet it seemed like too much effort to be sure. He settled instead for returning back to the fruitless task of pinpointing where everything had gone wrong and what he should have done instead.

The hand on his knee would have made the youngest Hardy flinch if he'd been able to muster the energy.

"Joe?"

Slowly, Joe raised his head from its resting place and fought to make his eyes focus on the person squatting in front of his chair, just out of his previous line of sight. The concerned eyes that met his own soothed him and yet made everything more daunting at the same time.

"Hi."

"Hey," came the soft reply in an obviously recently unused voice. Joe swallowed roughly before sitting up, letting one of his hands drop to rest on the one still warming his knee. The responding smile made him think it was worth the effort.

"I came as soon as I could."

"You didn't have to, you know."

"That's not what it looks like to me."

"Biff—"

"You know I want to be here."

Silence fell between the pair when Joe realized he couldn't refute that. Biff just squeezed his knee once and stood without moving his eyes off the younger man.

"Com'on."

"What? Biff—"

"Joe, nothing's going to change in the time it takes us to go to the cafeteria and eat."

"But—"

"And if it does, your mom is here. Your dad's back there making a statement, yeah? Then we'll come back, realize what's happened, and you'll join them."

Joe sighed and rose to his feet unsteadily. "I'm not going to be able to stop you, am I?"

Biff lowered his voice, "Frank will hurt me if I let you starve yourself. Then your dad will finish the job because I strained Frank."

A small smile danced over Joe's lips. "They aren't that scary, you know."

"Scary? No. Protective? Yes."

"…OK, you may have a point."

"Good, let's go then."

Biff caught one of Joe's hands in his own. Starting to walk, he gave it a small tug, despite the other man's stance on public displays. Joe followed the pull reluctantly.

"Biff—"

"You have really got to stop saying my name like that," Biff returned with a grin. "And don't worry. Everyone here is pretty preoccupied, doncha think?"

"But my mom—" Joe tried, as they got far enough down the hall that everyone was out of earshot.

"—Was far too relieved to see me if she didn't know I was going to do just this."

Joe stumbled; Biff just smiled and removed his hand, entering the cafeteria as though nothing had happened. A quick glance around showed that no one else seemed to think 10 am was a good time to eat, or maybe there weren't too many intensive cases that early.

"Grab yourself some food. I'll get the coffee." It was clearly an order, but the soft voice made it seem less harsh.

"Coffee?" Joe asked even as he stared at the entrance to the food counters.

"Just how long were you staring at that floor?" Biff pressed as he shrugged out of his coat and laid it across one of the bench seats.

"Depends."

"On?"

"What time it is now, and what time I started."

"Funny. Now go."

Joe gave a half-hearted grumble but obediently crossed the threshold to peruse the food options. He returned a moment later with a basket of fries, noticing that Biff was already seated with their coffee. After some careful maneuvering, he managed to climb over the bench and settle next to the other man.

"Fries?" Biff asked, more to keep the conversation going than anything else. A lull would give Joe a chance to dwell on everything.

"What's wrong with fries?" Joe returned, eating quickly enough to make a dent in the pile already.

"With coffee?"

Joe just shrugged, content to munch on the overly-salty spuds.

"Your tastes are going downhill," Biff informed him over a sip of his too-cool coffee.

"I beg to differ." Joe looked over to find Biff's eyes already on his own. Neither of them moved, unwilling to look away. The ticking of the clock seemed absurdly loud for a moment. Then he reached for his Styrofoam cup and tried to wash down the extra salt. A look of pure disgust broke the stillness before Joe glared at the offending cup. "Not that either of these food are actually any good right now."

Biff smirked, turning more to straddle the bench. "Yeah, I didn't really expect them to be, but what can you do?"

A distracted nod was the only response. One of Biff's hands settled on Joe's thigh, in what he hoped was just a reminder of his presence. Joe pushed away the now-empty basket and drained the coffee before glancing over nervously.

"Have you been up all night?" Biff asked carefully.

There was a moment of hesitation. "No. We left the house around five."

Biff nodded, eyes locked on his own hand but aware that Joe was starting to lean into him a bit. "Don't want you passing out on me is all."

"'M fine. Just… worried. He should be okay, but, Biff— there was so much blood. I didn't even know the other guy had a knife until Dad had taken him down. And Dad was supposed to be watching for the potential buyer, not watching out for us."

At some point. Joe's head had dropped to rest on Biff's shoulder. His fingers tangled in one another as if he didn't know what to do with them. The sympathy on Biff's face went unnoticed, though he brought his free hand up to cradle the blond head before him. He felt the telltale Hardy Twitch that meant Joe had only just not flinched out of his touch.

"Joe, you couldn't have known what was going to happen."

A huff of laughter blended with the reply. "I could've, just didn't."

"Could've known that the man you'd coerced was concealing a knife and intent to use it?"

"Frank told me to stay back because he didn't trust him. Maybe if I'd not trusted him or not listened to Frank or…"

"Then he would've gotten you too. Then I'd be sitting with your mom trying not to go crazy with worry. She said you yelled for your dad, yeah? How would you have gotten help with both of you down? Or he would've waited until he got one of you alone later and then gotten a better stab at the gut."

"I hate when you pull out this logical side," Joe muttered.

"Comes from being around you Hardys too much… and the end of football season."

Silence descended again and neither of them was willing to move just yet.

"Biff? Are you really scared of my family?"

"Nah," he rubbed the back of Joe's head absently. "Not that that stopped Frank from threatening me a few months back."

Joe sat up abruptly, searching Biff's face for any indication of lies. "He didn't…"

Biff smirked, lowering his hand to his own knee. "Probably wasn't supposed to tell you that, huh."

"I can't believe he… when he gets out—" His outrage was obvious.

"He was just looking out for you," Biff tried to soothe him.

"My dad didn't, did he?"

The pleading tone confused Biff for a moment. "What? Oh, no. Surprisingly."

"But—"

"Joe, this was months ago. Nothing came of it, I swear."

Joe sighed but didn't add anything else. Suddenly the door flew open with an excessively loud bang and an older woman entered. Biff felt Joe tense from where they were still nearly pressed together, but Biff hardly reacted. He knew that the lady couldn't tell anything from the angle and that more than likely two blond boys pressed close in a hospital would seem like brothers. Still, his eyes met Joe's as the woman noisily made her way to the food line.

"Let's go," Joe suggested with a hint of desperation.

"Yeah," Biff agreed easily. He rose to feet and glanced back at the doorway to the food. As Joe started to stand, he leaned in, placing a quick kiss on the younger man's lips before gathering their trash as if that had been his only intention.

Joe just rolled his eyes and headed to the door. Biff followed, dumping the trash when he passed the bin. Once in the hallway, he brushed a hand over his own lips.

"Hey, Joe?"

"Hmm?"

"Coffee and Fries? Not the best combination in the world."

Joe laughed lightly as they reentered the waiting room, "It's weird, but I think it kind of works."

THE END.