A/N: This is a rewrite of the original story posted here back in 2008. I've gotten quite a few requests over the years to read the original story or what there is of this rewrite, so I'm choosing to upload it now. It's by no means in perfect condition, but I've since moved on from this story and this fandom, so it is what it is. But at least it's here now for those that would like to read! (Something important to note: in this rewrite the character of Hope is replaced with Anna Hardy.) Anyways, enjoy.

"All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy; for what we leave behind us is a part of ourselves; we must die to one life before we can enter another." -Anatole France

Over the next year, his life will change completely. A black hole absorbing his loves, fears, friendships, and life itself. He will never be able to look back at this year with the same eyes ever again. In his mind it will forever become know as...The Forgotten Year.

A domino effect, he was pretty sure that's what it was called. One small event leading to the fall of similar events until nothing at all was left standing.

Twenty-two year old Joe Hardy glanced out to his peers, eyes shining from underneath their satin blue graduation caps. He stepped onto the stage set in the middle of the Bayport University football stadium, a field he had considered his second home for the past four years. He'd been lucky to have had a full ride football scholarship, so that his brother could use the family savings to his benefit instead of being stunted at the hometown college with his younger brother.

Though Joe's grades had always been adequate in high school, everyone knew Frank's SAT's allowed him the pick of any school in the country. The older Hardy had graduated a semester early, magna cum laude, from Northeastern University in Boston with a degree in criminal justice. Joe's degree would match his brother's, no matter what college he was graduating from, but he still didn't mind standing in his big brother's shadow, he was used to it and he truly believed Frank deserved the spotlight, even if his outward pride didn't let it show through.

His mind in a fog, Joe went through the motions, smiling, shaking hands, graduating- finally. Though he'd had his closest friends Biff Hooper and Chet Morton through his senior year of high school and his years at Bayport U, he had struggled at first with the absence of his older brother, his best friend, his confident. But now he was done with school, moving on with his adult life, he had a wonderful girlfriend, supportive family, great friends, and a new sister-in-law. Life seemed so effortlessly perfect.

It would only take one glance into the crowd of spectators to rupture his quintessential thoughts. He saw Frank first, his dark eyes shining with pride, Callie grasping his hand sweetly, their skin bronzed from their recent beach honeymoon. Vanessa sat next to her recently wedded friend, a bright smile shining from within glistening pink lips that Joe found himself unconsciously craving. His cousin, Anna Hardy, and friends Phil Cohen and Tony Prito were there as well, cheering with all their might for him. Biff and Chet not too far behind him in line to graduate.

Joe's heart swelled with joy as his eyes flicked to Frank again and then to his mother, her eyes matching his own in color and brightness. She beamed up at him, but there was a noticeable glint of apprehension in her expression. It didn't take long for Joe to understand why.

A spidering crack split its way into Joe's perfect world. The seat next to Laura was empty, creating a pit in the younger Hardy's stomach. Pain and dejection splintered Joe's heart in half, but for some strange reason this didn't shock him. Fenton Hardy's work came first. He was on an important case, more important than his youngest's college graduation. He'd forewarned Joe about his busy and unpredictable schedule, but always made sure to emphasize how proud he was of his son's achievement.

Joe stared at the empty seat for a split second longer before reality took a hold of him and he finished his walk across the stage and back to his seat. He took in a deep breath, holding back hot tears he knew he wouldn't shed. He vaguely remembered cheering for Biff, the broad shouldered blond having walked mere moments after he had, but the rest of the ceremony was a haze in his memory. It was not until he was being greeted and congratulated by his friends and family that he was able to bring his mind into focus again. Vanessa was the first to reach him through the crowd of happy parents and peers, her arms wrapping around him in a flurry, a passionate kiss bringing him fully back to reality.

"Congratulations babe!" the tall blond grinned. Joe smiled back at her, a loving sparkle in his blue eyes.

"Thanks," he replied, leaning in to kiss her again, but their moment was cut short by the arrival of Frank, their mother, and the rest of their friends. A slew of hugs, congrats, and camera flashes followed, causing Joe to nearly forget the absence of his father altogether.

Finally managing to pull his brother aside, Frank Hardy gazed at the young man before him, a delighted smile plastered on his face. Even though he and Joe had drifted in their college years they still held a bond that no one could ever fabricate or break. "I'm so proud of you, Joe."

The younger Hardy smirked, giving his brother a powerful hug and laughing cheerfully in his ear. "Me too, bro, me too."

But after stepping back, Joe's smile had dissipated. "I thought he would be here, Frank. I really did."

A sadness passed over Frank's features. "I'm sorry, Joe."

"It's not your fault," Joe snapped, his fiery eyes staring past Frank in sudden, instant annoyance. Frank opened his mouth to chastise Joe's attitude, but stopped himself, knowing that an argument wasn't going to help. It never did. Besides this was Joe's day, all he could do was ignore the outburst and hope his younger brother would be able to cool down before they had to face their father.

But Frank felt his insides twist uncomfortably at the thought, realizing that even if he managed to avoid the lightning now, there was always thunder just around the corner. What he didn't realize was that Joe's notorious temper would cause much more than a thunderstorm that would soon change their lives forever.

Six Months Later:

Two sets of dark eyes watched through matching binoculars as a young, blond man walked into the Bayhouse, a small, local restaurant down the street from the townhouse he resided in. He picked up a New York Times and sat in his usual booth next to the open window that looked out onto the harbor and Rockaway Bay. The window's view was breathtaking as always. The restaurant jutted out over the sparkling blue water and just across the bay the Manhattan Sky Line and bits and pieces of Coney Island could be made out in the distance. The man visited this same spot every morning, but not once had he taken a sideways glance at the boat floating in the harbor, the car idling up the street, or the pier shadowed beach where the two men, dressed inconspicuously, kept their eyes on him, as they always did.

The water was calm that day, small waves hitting the creamy white beach just steps away from the small eatery. Seagulls scattered themselves upon the sand hunting for their breakfast as warm sunlight shined down through the few, small clouds in the sky. Never the less it was a chilly day, but the cold seemed to help clear the young man's head. Breezy Point, New York had been his home for almost a year now, but nightmares about his previous life usually prevented any decent sleep he might encounter. Something he'd been working on, unsuccessfully of course.

The two men- on the boat this particular morning- studied the young blond carefully. He appeared tired and restless, but that had been his usual state ever since they had known him. The dark bags under his eyes never seemed to dissipate, his attitude always stoic, his words short and often contrite. But his lean, muscular frame was always in top form, and though it didn't always appear so, the man was always at the peak of health.

The mysterious duo watched as he slowly reached into his pocket and sat a small, black box onto the freshly cleaned laminate table top in front of him. Opening it, the blond gazed upon the diamond ring that rested softly atop purple velvet. The diamond was centered between two small amethysts, her birthstone, set in a smooth, silver band. After another short moment he sighed, as usual, and placed the small box back into his pocket where it would stay until he mustered up another bout of confidence to look at it again. It was a ritual the men had watched him perform countless times.

Fixing her apron and black polo shirt, a friendly waitress, walked towards the booth. A young woman, not more than a year or two older than the blond, lingering behind her. The waitress, who was more than an acquaintance but less than a friend, knew exactly what he ate every morning and just how he liked his eggs: sunny side up.

"Saw you come in, already got your order in. The usual right?" she said in a honeyed, somewhat comforting voice.

The young man was always impressed with her unusual perception of himself and his eating habits. "Right," he replied with a nearly unnoticeable smile. But, as the waitress walked away, his gaze slowly drifted to the young lady that had been standing behind her, a small spark of curiosity running through his usually dispassionate thoughts.

On the boat the two men turned to each other and grinned. Their plan was falling into place. If they couldn't find out more about the evasive young man that worked for them, then someone else would have to do it.

Inside the waterfront restaurant the enigmatic woman walked towards the quiet man, putting on a soft smile and demeanor. She was petite and pixie faced, her dark chin length hair a stark contrast to her bright, golden eyes. "Hello," she greeted, her voice smooth and velvety. She extended a thin, manicured hand. "My name is Acacia Heart."

The man eyed her for a moment before shaking her hand. Pursing his lips as he studied her with furrowed brows before finally speaking. "Can I help you?" The words sounded more bitter than he'd meant them to.

She gave an embarrassed smile. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to be so forward, but I believe we are neighbors. I moved into the place next to yours several days ago."

The man nodded. "Yes, I do remember seeing a moving van." He cleared his throat, the situation becoming increasingly uncomfortable. He had almost forgotten how to deal with any remotely social situation; he didn't get out much these days. "Well, it's nice to meet you. I'm-"

"I know who you are," she interrupted, staring deep into his dark eyes. "And yes, it is very nice to meet you...Joseph Hale."