Second part! Yay!
Like I have mentioned before, there will be less violence and killing in this part of the story. Instead, there are a lot of flashbacks. *shrugs*
I do not own the Hardy Boys.
Enjoy!


Nothing could replace the quietness in the house. It was a constant reminder to Fenton on how he failed his family. His sons were both dead; their remains were only ashes in jars that sat on his desk. His wife kidnapped by the same man who killed his sons, her days most likely numbered. And the PI still had very little to work with.

Why me, Snake? It was a dumb question. The assassin had gone after the eldest son first. The brunette and another girl were in a program that ATAC had just begun to mold that taught some agents how to use weapons. That meant that they could become the biggest threat, and the only solution was to kill them.

But Snake had made it clear that Frank wanted to die. And somehow, Fenton had allowed himself to grasp the idea, despite the fact the he could barely understand.

Joe was next. It made sense in that weird way that could be seen only as a form of logic. The brothers were close, so it seemed like a natural choice to go after Joe next. The assassin had also used the blonde as a way to threaten Fenton. It had failed in the long run, however. Fenton had continued to investigate, and Snake kidnapped Joe in the end for what appeared to be fun.

And then Joe let himself to die. He had thrown the gun to Snake, who made the fatal shot. And the minutes before his death were spent yelling at Fenton, pointing out how he failed as a father.

Laura was taken the minute after Joe fell. The PI was powerless to do anything. If he did, his wife would surely be dead.

"If you want to save everyone else, listen to Snake. It's too late for me." Joe's last words haunted the PI, threatening the calm demeanor that he was so used to. He leaned against his desk, hands folded and propping his head as his eyes remained unfocused. The memory ran over and over again, wearing his mind away.

He got up minutes later, walking down the empty hall. He was barely aware of his movements, but after living in the house for so long, he knew exactly where to step.

Within moments, he found himself in the kitchen, standing in front of the refrigerator. His eyes had focused in on a single picture, but there was no memory that formed.

Fenton frowned, removing the magnet that held the photo in place. He turned it over to find a date scrawled on the back, indicating the picture was years old. It took him a second to realize what exactly happened on that particular date.

Frank's first day in kindergarten. He flipped the glossed paper and looked at the photo again. It revealed a pile of blocks, stacked to what appeared to be a very tall height. If not for the sturdy structure of the base, it probably should have toppled over.

How come I don't remember this?

But the ringing of the telephone pulled Fenton away from his curiosity. He set the picture down on the counter as he took the cordless phone that was sitting in its base.

It was left there during the whole week, untouched. Its partner, which was a crudely drawn picture of what appeared to be a castle with two little boys on top, held by a magnet next to the spot the photo had once been in, was left alone.

---------------

Frank Hardy learned a lot during that first day of school. He met new friends, and had a new mentor. Before he went to school, it seemed that only his parents knew all the answers. But now there was the teacher, Mr. Jones. And one day, all of the teachers that he had would make him as smart and wise as the adults.

They had built a giant tower, as a way to make sure that the day was unforgettable. Phil (who hated being called Phillip), Callie (who would scare the daylights out of someone if they did something she didn't like), and himself had worked extra hard on it. Mr. Jones had taken a picture of it before it was deconstructed, and managed to get all of them copies before the day ended.

"See, Mom?" School had let out, and Frank was practically jumping up and down with joy to show his mother his accomplishment as they walked to the car. It had only been the first day, too…

"A very beautiful job, Frank." Laura beamed at her son, which just made him shine brighter. If his mother, the person who knew so much that she was a librarian (which was a very big feat in the eyes of any six year old), liked it, then surely he had done something excellent.

"Lemme see!" Joe ran up to his brother, and in the process almost knocked him down. The five year old didn't have a good of a day as his older brother; it wasn't hard to see, since the one person he was most attached too had gone off for a whole day. "Cool!"

Joe turned his bright blue eyes towards his mother. "Why can't I go to school?"

"Because you're not old enough, sweetie." She patted his head affectionately. "Besides, then you would leave Aunt Trudy alone."

"But she's mean! She said I can't play outside!"

"I'm sure that's only because she doesn't want you to get all muddy. Then you'll have to take a bath."

"Eeewww." The blonde boy stuck out his tongue.

Frank laughed. It felt so right, but there was still something missing…

"Mom, where's Dad?"

She sighed, her eyes appearing vacant. "I'm afraid that the case your father was working on is forcing him to come home late today."

"Oh. Okay." It was as if the light just disappeared; he didn't feel complete without his father's approval.

So, instead of continuing to talk about his day, Frank stayed quiet, and went straight to his room the moment they got home. The only thing that pulled him out of his mood was when Joe demanded that his brother help him make a tower while waiting for dinner.

Joe always did have a good affect on Frank. This day was no exception.

When Fenton Hardy did manage to make his appearance ten minutes before bedtime, all of the blonde's hard work was completely destroyed.

"Dad, look!" Frank held up the photo as his father walked past.

The man barely looked at it. "Nice job, Frank. Laura…" The rest of his words were lost as he walked to the kitchen.

Frank knew that his father didn't really see the picture. He didn't understand that his father had a horrible day, or that he was tired beyond belief. All he knew was that Fenton Hardy, the greatest man to walk the face of the planet, didn't look.

He tried again, following the man. "Dad…?"

"Frank, I'm really tired. You can show me tomorrow, can't you?" The man didn't even look at him when he responded.

"But-"

"Frank…"

The boy knew that voice; it was the one all adults used when they were running out of patience. So, instead of pressing the matter, he just slipped back into the living room, silent.

"Hey, Frank." The boy looked up, to see that his younger brother was holding out a piece of paper. The brunette took it, and looked at what was drawn onto the once blank space.

"It's us! See, we're on the tower you built!"

A smile began to form on Frank's face. "That's awesome, Joe!"

The blonde beamed back. "I knew you would like it!"

"We should put them somewhere."

"How about on the fridge?"

"Good idea." A few minutes, some tip toeing around the figure that was known as their father, and a search for magnets gave them the desired results; the photo and picture, side by side, on the refrigerator.

It turns out that Fenton didn't have time the next day, or the day after that, to spare time to glance at the fridge. And when he did, his response mirror what he had said before.

But something had changed in Frank. He might have learned a lot that first day of school, and for all the days to come. But his most important lesson was on the fridge to remind him.

Every day after that, Frank made sure to give Joe something fun to do while he waited for school to end and the two to be reunited for adventure.

--------------

The gun became easier to handle and aim. It surprised him, in some ways. Then again, he was learning from the best.

"You didn't tell her, right?" He didn't turn around to greet the assassin; instead, he reloaded and aimed at the paper target again.

"I'm not an idiot." The frown on Hawk's face could be heard through her tone.

"Sorry."

"Forget it." She watched silently as he shot six times into the target, all of them hitting dead center, before speaking again. "Are you going to surpass him?"

"Me versus him, Hawk. No way in hell."

"Then what are you doing? You've been going at this for hours, if you haven't noticed."

"Catching up." He turned around, meeting her eyes. "If I'm supposed to reach the level that you two have set, I need to practice."

"I see." Her gaze didn't waver. "Maybe you need an assignment or something. To boost your level."

He frowned. "Snake said-"

"I can handle Snake. Besides, I think he'll agree. Just have to find someone really low on the radar. Maybe a completely different case." She turned her head, as if scared that the last words would wound him. "To keep Fenton away."

"Okay," he said. He watched her walk away, wondering if this was the time to ask the question that was burning in him. "How many times did Jackie die?"

It was swift and sudden, enough to stop her walk back to their base. Her head was facing away, and her eyes would most likely be empty if he actually saw them. "Twice."

"And which one hurt her the most?"

"The first time." She paused, as if looking for something. "Just like Frank. Just like Joseph."

"They all died twice in the end."

"And the first one stung the most." She resumed her retreat, before stopping one more time. "Their deaths aren't final, Lion."

"Of course they aren't." The newest assassin turned back to the paper target. "If they were, then Snake wouldn't try to make me his replacement."


Nice job, Fenton. Making your kid feel unimportant...