Note: Originally posted as happychica.
Disclaimer: I don't own The Hardy Boys (Franklin W. Dixon), so don't sue.
xxx
Gertrude Hardy sighed as she dropped the groceries onto the counter. Ever since their mother had left nearly a year ago, Frank and Joe had been less and less concerned with what went in their mouths and whether or not it was good for them was all but a joke; and poor Fenton. Sighing again, Gertrude set about putting the food in its proper place. She never seen her brother this torn up. Not when he lost a trail, or when the bad guys got away. Not even when his children got kidnapped or hurt, though that would be a close second. But there had always been anger behind his emotions then, and a way to make things right. This time there wasn't anything he could do to right this wrong. His wife had left, and he hadn't realized it until it was too late. So the detective did the only thing he could. He broke.
It had been harder and harder for Gertrude to get her brother up, get him to eat, to live. He'd lost all interest in his job, which she hadn't let him quit, though God knew he'd tried.
"It's why she left!" he argued, anguish clear in his voice.
"Quitting now won't bring her back, so why do it?" she argued back, knowing her words cut deep. He had disappeared into his room after that, not appearing until the next day, and even then not speaking to anyone.
Frank and Joe were also suffering visibly. Their grades had dropped, though a couple of stern lectures and a few restrictions later those came back up. The boys were helped less and less on their father's cases, and had taken on no new ones on their own. Joe had become quite, speaking only when spoken to. Frank had also become more reclusive, dropping out of some of his more outgoing activities. Both boys' friends were worried, but none were foolish enough to try anything stupid. They just went about their business as normally as they could, dragging the two Hardy sons along when they could. It was helping, though at the glacial pace it was, the boys would be nearly twice their age before any real breakthroughs were made.
"If only she'd been clearer, instead of just storming out," muttered Gertrude. She heard the front door open and close. "You're home early boys. Practice cancelled today?" When no response came, Gertrude cautiously made her way out of the kitchen to investigate. "Laura!"
Mrs. Hardy looked over at her sister-in-law, grinning at the look on her face. "Yes?"
"You're back!" Gertrude rushed forward to hug the woman. Pulling back, Fenton's sister held her at arm's length and studied the woman in front of her. She seemed…refreshed, like when the first cold breeze appears after a particularly stifling summer. Her blonde hair was longer, now nearly to her lower back, and her blue eyes sparkled with mischief lost after years of fretting about family members and life in general. "I'm so glad you came back." Gertrude paused. "You are…going to stay…right?" Laura laughed.
"Yes Gertrude, I'm going to stay. I almost came back a few months ago, but…well…things got unpleasant." Gertrude let out a small gasp.
"Oh Laura, you didn't."
"Didn't what?"
"You're still Mrs. Hardy, right?" Laura laughed again.
"Yes, I'm still Mrs. Hardy. My father was ill and I just couldn't leave my mother alone like that. He's never been ill, not in all my memory, and with her ailing age, I didn't want her joining him. I came back as soon as I was sure they were going to be okay, with a promise that I would bring the boys up for a visit as soon as possible. How are they?" Gertrude stared at the woman in front of her, finally feeling the anger she'd felt for months welling up.
"Bad, though Fenton's much worse. How could you do that? Heaven knows I worry too, but leaving, with so little warning, and hardly an explanation. Laura Hardy, you have some serious explaining to do!" Grabbing her arm, Gertrude pulled the younger woman into the kitchen. After setting the kettle on to boil, Gertrude sat down across from Laura at the kitchen table. "Talk."
xxx
A few hours later, Frank and Joe came bursting through the front door. The day had been a rather good one. School had been bearable, with Joe passing his math test with flying colors, and practice had gone well. Frank had even cracked a smile when Joe volunteer a comment; the first one in months. Removing their shoes and dropping their bags, the two boys made their way to the kitchen, chatting happily. Rounding the corner into the room, the two stopped, gapping. Their mother looked up from her tea, smiling gently.
"Hello boys."
"Mom!" chorused the two boys, launching themselves across the room, hugging their mother like a lifeline. Their aunt laughed, standing to fetch the boys something to drink as well. After releasing their mother from their crushing hug, the two boys sat down on opposite sides of her and bombarded her with questions.
"Where did you go?"
"Why were you gone so long?"
"Are you going to leave again?"
"Does Dad know you're back?"
"Why did you go?" The last question was asked in unison as two pairs of eyes watched their mother's blue ones, hinting at many questions left unsaid.
"Well, in order: my mother's, I needed to be, no, no, and," Laura sighed, "I needed a break from constantly worrying about you three. Leaving only showed me I'd worry no matter where I was. I think I actually worried more when I couldn't pester your father for information then when I could! How is he? Gertrude says he didn't take this very well."
The boys exchanged glances. Frank spoke first.
"He's been really quite."
"And sad," added Joe.
"He doesn't eat much, and Chief Collig has to ask Dad to work on cases now; he doesn't go looking for them anymore. I think he would've quit if Aunt Gertrude hadn't made him keep the job."
"It pays well and he needed the distraction," interjected the boy's aunt, placing cups of hot chocolate in front of them. "The poor man's been a wreck, though admittedly, he has been a bit better as of late."
"That's just because he knows if he does it without being asked, you'll leave him be," said Joe, taking a sip of his drink. Frank nodded in agreement.
"Well, now that we've got all the major questions out of the way, how about we make your father a nice dinner," asked Laura. "Hopefully that'll cheer him up a bit."
"You're coming back will make him much happier," replied Frank.
"Though dinner would be nice," added Joe hurriedly. "You're a very good cook, Aunt Gertrude, but nobody can beat mom."
"As it should be," said Gertrude, standing up. "What shall we make?"
xxx
Dinner came and went before Fenton Hardy made his way back home. He'd finally managed to wrap up his case, wishing his friends the best of luck catching the men. Shutting the door, he noticed that the house wasn't quite the way he'd it usually was. There was talk and laughter from the kitchen, and Joe's voice, a sound Fenton had thought he'd rarely hear again, was just as loud as the rest, if not louder. Smiling for the first time in months, the detective made his way to the kitchen. His smile vanished at once.
Sitting at the kitchen table was his family. His whole family, the way they'd been nearly a year ago. Aunt Gertrude, gently scolding the boys for something they'd probably exaggerated doing; Joe, attempting to defend himself in the least helpful way possible; Frank, smiling at his brother's antics and adding a helping word or two where needed; and Laura, his wife, laughing and smiling as though she'd never left.
It was a few moments before anyone noticed Fenton's arrival, but the reactions were immediate. Joe fell silent, staring at his father. Frank, following his brother's gaze, lessened his grin considerably. Gertrude turned around in her chair, raising an eyebrow questioningly. Laura sat perfectly still, looking pointedly at her plate. His sister spoke first.
"Boys, I think it's time you got ready for bed." Frank nodded, tugging his brother up with him. The boys kissed their mother goodnight and quietly slipped past their father and up the stairs, talking softly. Gertrude stood up and began clearing the table. When Laura made to help, the older woman swatted her hand away gently, whispering: "I think you've something more important you should be doing." Sighing, Laura moved past her husband and into the living room, knowing he would follow.
Turning, the younger woman felt her stomach drop. Her husband, a man she'd known to be vibrant and as full of life as their youngest, looked lost now. His eyes lacked the life she'd come to depend on seeing when things got tough, the smile lines replaced by those of frown and worry. He'd lost weight, too, something he'd never needed to do. And he looked…old. For the first time, Laura felt guilt creep into her mind. This is your fault; you know, whispered a voice in her mind. You did leave without really telling him why, and it's been nearly a year. He was bound to think you weren't coming back sooner or later, he's only human. Slowly, Laura walked over to her husband and hugged him gently. He didn't respond.
"I'm not going to disappear Fenton, you can touch me." She felt him react slowly; encircling his arms around her carefully, as though he thought she'd break if he was too firm. "I'm sorry," whispered Laura, burying her face in his chest. Oh Lord how she'd missed this smell, this feeling. The feeling of not having to worry, of knowing, somehow, everything would be alright in the end, though it might be Hell getting there. Now even she didn't know why she'd left. All her excuses sounded feeble and hollow, like excuses always did.
But Fenton didn't ask why she'd left or what she'd been thinking. He didn't say anything at all. He just stood there, holding her, his grip tightening as time wore on. A few minutes later Laura felt something wet fall on the top of her head. It was a few moments before she realized what it was; a tear. Fenton was crying, crying because of her, because of something she'd done. The only other time she'd seen him cry was when he'd truly thought he couldn't bring his boys home. They'd been searching for weeks without any success and no ransom demand of any kind. She never told Frank or Joe, knowing they always felt bad about worrying their parents. This would have made their guilt much worse, as it was making hers. But she could have prevented this. The boys hadn't asked to be captured, but nobody had made her leave. She'd done that of her own free will; the worst possible thing. Slowly, tears began making their way down her cheeks too, wetting her husband's, her dear, dear husband's shirt as they fell.
It felt like hours before either moved, though Laura knew it couldn't have been more then fifteen or so minutes. Time always moves slower when you're sad. Surprisingly, it was Fenton who spoke first.
"I'm glad you came back. The boys really missed you."
"They said you missed me, too," whispered Laura, wiping away the last few of her tears. Fenton was silent for a few moments, resting his chin gently on his wife's head.
"I'm not sure 'missed' is the right word. It was more of a…longing, I suppose." Pulling back, Fenton looked at his wife, taking in her freshened appearance, only slightly marred by the tracks her tears had left. "I really am glad you're back."
"I suppose you want to know why I left."
Fenton nodded. "But that can wait till morning. Right now, I just want you here," Fenton pulled his wife close, hugging her firmly this time, "where I know you're safe."
Laura smiled. "We should probably go up to bed, too. It is getting late. And don't worry;" Laura added as she felt Fenton open his mouth to speak, "I'll be here when you wake up; and all the other times, too. I'm not leaving again, ever." She could feel her husband smile. Pulling back, she realized how much just that simple gesture did. Fenton looked much younger, and so much more alive, his smile reaching all the way to his eyes.
Leaning up, Laura kissed her husband gently, finding yet another thing she had missed so much. Fenton respond just as softly, pulling her close again.
Stepping back, Fenton took his wife's hand and led her upstairs to their room. Pulling her inside, Fenton kissed her again, this time pouring all of his emotions into it: sadness, hurt, anger, joy, forgiveness, love. Laura moaned softly, leaning farther into her husband's touch. Pulling back enough to speak Laura whispered: "Perhaps we should close the door." Fenton nodded absently, kissing his wife again. Blindly, he reached behind and pushed the door, hearing a soft click as it closed.
Gripping her husband's shirt, Laura smiled into the kiss as she began to walk backwards, stopping when she hit the bed. Without hesitating, Fenton picked up his wife, mind still focused on the previous task. He carefully laid her on the bed before crawling on top of her. I missed this…
xxx
Gertrude grinned as she watched her brother feel for the door, finally managing to push it shut. Behind her she could her Joe mumble 'ew' under his breath. "You could have gone to bed," whispered his aunt, turning around.
"That's OK," Joe whispered back. "This was more important."
"Mmhmm. Well, now you and your brother need to get to bed."
"Yes Aunt Gertrude," chorused the two boys, getting into their beds.
"Though if they keep this up, I won't get any-"
"Joseph Hardy!" The younger boy dove under his covers, his laughter creeping out despite his attempts to stop it. Shaking her head, Gertrude bid the boys good night and made her way to her own room. At least everyone's happy again.
xxx
Laura sighed contentedly as she curled up against her husband, glad for the warmth she'd once left behind. How did I leave this? My boys, my life, and…this! He's perfect, just...perfect. Laura smiled as she felt an arm snake around her waist, pulling her closer.
Fenton gently kissed the top of his wife's head before shifting onto his side. "I think this time," he whispered, "we actually should go to sleep." He could almost feel Laura's blush.
Pulling the covers up, Fenton closed his eyes, truly happy for the first time all year.
fin
A/N: I…wrote that?…/faints/. I've never done that before! Should I be happy or disturbed? Really, I did it because my mom and I were discussing human reactions (don't ask) and apparently, this is pretty common in this situation. Odd race of beings, aren't we?