Note: My first attempt at brotherly love. One drunken and grieving, the other sober and exhausted. SO NOT SLASH. I hate slash. This is friendship and family and all that good stuff. This is a test run, let's hope it goes well. Oh, an my birthday is Monday. Send me lots of reviews as presents.

Role Reversal

"But the Great plan is, of course, that which has guided all creation from the very beginning. So often I hear people say, of their own or someone else's problem, "It will work out," and, this is true. Sometimes it doesn't work out quite as we desired, but work out it does in the long run. I think that's something to remember and hold fast." -Unknown

"You know, she had ugly feet."

Joe Hardy rubbed his temples wearily, as his brother rambled off the hundredth comment about Callie's stupidity. Her hair was too light, she hated steak, she only liked romance movies, her dog was mean, her nails were too pointy. For the last hour or so, the two brothers, both underage, had found themselves in a shitty little bar on the edge of Bayport. Joe had gone through many girlfriend's in his life. Each time, Frank had brought his younger brother to the shabby little bar on the dark ally. Each time, Frank had only one drink while Joe rambled on a bout something or other and had more than a few drinks. When, due to reason's only a girl would know, Callie dumped Frank, Joe dragged his wallowing brother to The Blitz, (Not to be confused with the phone model) their shabby bar of choice.

This was when Joe realized he utterly despised role reversal.

"She did?" Said Joe tiredly as his eyes strayed to a girl wearing a mini skirt by the juke box. He coughed slightly as the smoky air filled his lung.

"She did," Said Frank, as he took another sip of his third or fourth drink. Fortunately, Frank was a quiet and somber drunk.

"They were, like almost w-w-webbed." He stuttered out as he rested his head in his hands. Joe sighed.

"Well, aren't you happy she ditched you then?" Said Joe, as he dragged his eyes away from mini skirt girl.

"No." Said Frank bluntly, as he rubbed his eyes, then let his head drop onto the bar with a light thud, "I want her back. Really bad."
Ah, yes. Role reversal was a bitch. Joe was supposed to be the one drunk out of his mind, not Frank.

"Come on, Frank. She's not that incredible. Besides, you're been with her forever. There are other women out there." Said Joe, as Frank picked up his head and rested his chin on the bar. The female bar tender, who was about Joe's age, looked at him with pitying, understanding, let silently laughing eyes.

Here's the thing, Joe didn't like Callie all that much. But his brother did. And for his brother's sake, and his brother's only, Joe tolerated Callie. He put up with her bitchy attitude, because it made Frank happy. Now, normally he'd be jumping for Joe. But right now Frank didn't need that. The guy looked like a six year old who had been told Christmas was canceled.

"I've been with her forever, because I wanted to be with her forever. Then she ditched me. Said she liked me, but felt we needed to see other people. That with college so soon, and long distance relationships so hard, we should start seeing other people. What does that mean in girl speak? Did she think I was cheating? Did I not pay enough attention to her?" Mumbled Frank as he attempted, not the word attempted, to sit up straight and take a sip of his drink. Frank ended up spilling more of his drink on himself than in his mouth.

"Who knows, man. Girls are another species entirely. And, hey, you'll meet somebody new."
Frank groaned and looked at Joe in frustration, "I don't want somebody else, I want Callie!"

Joe wanted to scream. Drunk Frank was also a moody and stubborn Frank. And shoot, god Frank looked like crap. He wanted to help him, he really did. How did his brother do it?

Joe then heard a familiar voice call his name, and he turned around.

There stood Calliope Andrea Shaw in all her glory. Her cheeks pink from the cold, her trench coat wrapped tightly around her, and a defeated look on her face. Fortunately, Frank did not hear Callie.

"Hey, Frank. I got to pee. Try not to fall off the stool, ok?"
Frank nodded and mumbled something along the lines of, 'go ahead.' Joe then bolted from his seat, stalked over to Callie, grabbed her rightly by the wrist, and dragged her outside. Once the two were in the ally beside the bar, Joe proceeded to grind out, despite his clenched jaw, "What are you doing HERE?"

Callie sighed and ran a hand through her already disheveled hair, then said, " I changed my mind, I think-"

Joe then raised his hand as if to be quiet, and launched into his soon to be epic rant, "Look, Callie. For the past hour I have listened to my brother get completely drunk out of his mind. Frank doesn't get drunk. Frankly, I have no idea exactly what you said, but I don't care. Whatever you said, ignore the damn cliché, broke Frank's heart. And, truly, I'm not going to let you go in there and take advantage of his drunken state, or hurt him more. He already looks like he was run over by a bus. I've never seen him so mad yesterday after you broke up with him, or so depressed like today. So I strongly sujest you leave and either talk to him on Monday or never again, because there is no way in hell I am letting you back into that bar."

Joe then took a deep breath, and let it out. He watched his breath appear in the dark October night as Callie glanced down at her feet. Joe had never seen her this quiet.

"Ok. I'll talk to him later."

Callie then pivoted and walked away. And Joe doubt that later would ever come. He then turned and leaned against the brick wall of the bar. This was just damn lovely. After a moment of collecting himself, he re-entered the bar. There weren't many customer's left, for it was 1:50 in the morning. Closing time was in ten minutes. Joe then took his spot next to Frank, and shook his shoulder to pull Frank out of his daze.

"Frank, dude, the bar's gonna close soon. Let's go home."

Frank nodded numbly as Joe slowly lead his brother out of the bar. The brother's stumbled through the parking lot, and Joe managed to heave his brother into the passenger seat. Joe ran around to the driver's side, climbed in, and started the car. He drove in autopilot mode back, Frank was asleep within minutes.

God, how did Frank do it? He loved his older brother to death, but doing this monthly must have been hell. Joe went through girl's like toilet paper, making the bar evenings a often occurrence. Frank was definitely stronger than him.

The two soon reached their home, where Joe got out, walked over to Frank's side of the car, and opened the door. Joe shook Frank awake, and the two were almost to the door, when Frank leaned over the side of the porch and began to puke in their mother's rose bushes. Joe placed both his hands firmly on Frank's shoulder's, and willed himself not to puke. Frank was going to feel like hell in the morning.

Frank was definitely the stronger one.

Then, by some miracle, Joe managed to unlock the door and keep Frank from falling over. At a very slow place, Joe practically half carried his half passed out brother up the stairs, and into Frank's room. He shoved Frank onto the bed, and turned to leave, when he heard Frank mumble, "Thanks." He then rolled over and officially passed out.

Yes, role reversal was hell,

But it was worth it.