"He is my most beloved friend and my bitterest rival, my confidant and my betrayer, my sustainer and my dependent, and scariest of all, my equal." - Gregg Levoy

Present Day:

Callie sat on the couch, wringing her hands nervously. Having Joe rent out their basement apartment had been a perfect opportunity to save on money as well as bringing the brothers closer together once again. But as of late, the decision to live with her hotheaded new brother-in-law was becoming a stressful one at best.

Joe was usually pleasant and easy to live with, his carefree demeanor and joking manner considerably balancing Callie and Frank's more conservative attitudes. At the beginning of the summer he seemed fine, but slowly both Frank and Callie had realized that it had all been a front. The ongoing tension between he and his father affected Joe in such a negative way that he had become irritable and reclusive.

"Joe, drinking won't solve anything!" Callie heard Frank yelling, his voice echoing from the basement stairwell. She cringed and just kept silent, knowing it would be over soon, like always. Frank could handle his brother.

However, in the basement Frank was thinking the exact opposite. His brother was becoming harder and harder to control and placate. "You're better than this and you know it," he said in a calmer voice. Quickly he snatched the motorcycle keys from Joe's trembling hands.

"Why do you care Frank," his younger brother hissed back. Bloodshot eyes glared in Frank's direction, an intoxicated glaze already seeping across them. He'd only had a of couple beers, but that had been enough to heat his erratic temper and blur his judgement.

Joe had never been one to drink, socially at most, but never to drown out memories or force himself to forget. His behavior had grown reckless, beyond that even. He knew it too, but what he hated most was how Frank had to continuously remind him of it. Knowing that if he stooped to Joe's unpleasant level nothing good would come of it, Frank tried to keep a level head.

"I care because I'm your brother," he said impatiently, his face grim, but determined. "I can't stand here and watch you get drunk and kill yourself, or someone else, with your bike just so you can get even with Dad's ignorance!"

Joe's eyes widened for a fraction of a second at Frank's words. "I'm not trying to get even," he growled. Embarrassment flooded his face in a warm flush. His brother was right, but he couldn't let Frank win, if for no other reason than his own stubborn pride.

Frank's eyes blazed, finding it hard to keep cool when fighting against his brother's irrational ferocity. "Then what, Joe? Just getting drunk to get drunk? That's not like you. I know you're hurting, but this won't reverse time or circumstances. When is enough finally enough with you?" He paused for a second, and then with a solemn glare he added, "Grow up, Joe."

The statement was simple, but harsh, especially when directed at Joe. He'd always been the baby, the younger brother, the immature trouble maker. After completing college he'd hoped to wipe his slate clean, be an adult like everybody else, but still he was being told to 'grow up.'

Joe took a step towards Frank, a pained yet indignant fire in those sapphire eyes. "Don't you dare tell me to 'grow up.'" He grit his teeth, trying to reign in his emotions with little success. "If anyone needs to grow up it's Dad! Grow up and realize he has a family, and not one, but two sons. Grow up and realize that work should never be a priority when it comes to family."

Frank knew most of Joe's anger and words were fueled by the buzz of alcohol in his system, but there was a bit of what he was saying that did make sense. Their father had made a huge mistake, but no one could do anything about that now.

Neither brother spoke for a long, uncomfortable moment. A film of mist covered Joe's vision and a shake attacked his throat, but taking a deep breath, he pushed onward, not allowing himself to back down now. "Just leave me the hell alone, Frank."

Joe's pronouncement cut like a glass splinter in Frank's heart. He reminded himself again about his brother's intoxicated state, but he was starting to think that Joe sounded scarily sober. "Joe- please."

The younger Hardy cleared his throat, barely able to make eye contact now, regret already welling inside of him. "What?" he snapped, his tone icy.
Frank let go of a sigh. "Please don't take this out on me. We can work through this. Dad-"

"I don't want to talk about Dad anymore." Joe's voice was still cold, but he was beginning to calm, the argument becoming a worthless fight now. He didn't want to take it out on Frank, but he didn't want to let his wracked emotions take their toll on anyone else either. He knew at least his brother could take it. Probably.

"What should we talk about then?" Frank's voice had simmered to a neutral tone. He just wanted Joe to open up to him, but found it nearly impossible to persuade him to do so. Shaking his head he knew that this behavior shouldn't be surprising to him. Joe had always been the hotheaded brother.

Joe pushed past Frank towards the basement entrance. Though he had been spending a majority of his time at Vanessa's, he still paid rent and kept most of his belongings with his brother and sister-in-law. Most of the time he enjoyed living with them, but sometimes, like this particular moment, he hated it.

He may have been an adult in every legal sense, but as long as he lived under Frank's roof he was compelled to follow his brother's rules. Joe touched the door's handle, but feeling Frank's eyes burning into the back of his skill he turned abruptly to face him again. "Please, Frank, let me go."

"I can't. You know that." Frank's voice was sad but firm.

Joe knew his brother couldn't physically prevent him from leaving, but he also knew Frank wouldn't forget the events taking place and one way or another the guilt would weigh on Joe's mind forever if he disobeyed his brother's common sense orders.

Joe's tough facade faded a fraction, ready to end the fight. "Frank..."

But Frank interrupted him, his stern words like a bucket of ice water being dumped over Joe's head. "You're not seventeen anymore, Joe. You can't just run away from your troubles. Five years should have been enough time to grow up- without me babysitting you the whole way."

Frank immediately regretted his unusually impulsive words, their harshness uncalled for just as Joe had been simmering down. Now he realized his mistake as he watched Joe's blood begin to boil beneath his skin.

"Babysitting me?" Joe spit the words out as if they were a bitter substance in his mouth. "Is that what you think your job in life is Frank? To babysit me? Because I still need to 'grow up,' right?" Surprisingly, though his words were full of venom, Joe kept his voice extremely even. "I'm out of here and you're not going to stop me this time."

Frank knew that he had dug himself into a hole now. Trying to backpedal, he reverted back to his normal, cool headed demeanor. "Joe just stay home. Please. Get some sleep, rest will do you good."

"Stay home? So you can just babysit me some more? Lock me in my room while I throw my tempter tantrum until I tire myself out?" Joe clenched his teeth and still managed to keep his voice relatively even, though he knew his words were hurtful enough.

Frank furrowed his brows, as if mentally yelling at himself for saying such an idiotic thing to his already fired up brother. "I'm sorry, truly Joe. I shouldn't have said that-"

"Well you did, didn't you?" Joe snarled. "You can take it back all you want Frank, but I will always know how you feel."

Joe felt a poignant throbbing at the base of his skull, another strong headache coming over him. He hadn't told Frank, or anyone else, about the nauseating migraines and certainly wasn't planning to now. It would just give his brother another reason to 'babysit' him.

He averted his eyes finding it hard to fight with Frank when looking directly at all of his brother's reactions, even if he was angry with him. "Just leave me alone. You have no idea what I'm going through right now," he muttered under incensed breath. He put his hand on the doorknob again, but Frank's voice stopped him before he could open it.

"Look Joe, I'm done reasoning with you. If you won't listen to me I'm going to have to call Vanessa," Frank threatened. "Lately she seems to be the only one who can talk sense into you." He gave his brother a menacing stare, his lips forming a firm line, though he felt slightly guilty for bringing Vanessa into the argument.

"That's not fair, Frank," Joe groaned, now more annoyed than angry. He pinched the bridge of his nose momentarily, the vision of Vanessa's crystalline blue-grey eyes marred with tears made his heart sink. She hated to see him like this.

Frank held his ground. "It's my last resort."

Joe's fists curled uncomfortably, his fingernails digging into the palms of his hands. "'Ness doesn't have anything to do with this. She doesn't need this." Shame and sadness covered Joe's face as he weighed his options. He knew that he'd done too much to her lately, she didn't need anymore stress on their relationship. "Please."

"Then don't make me call her." Frank kept up his rough attitude, though looking at Joe's face ripped him apart inside.

Joe, who had been leaning against the door, pushed away from it and away from Frank towards the opposite side of the basement apartment. "I just need some air." He opened the patio's sliding glass door and stepped out onto the bland cement without another word, closing the door heavily behind him.

For a moment Frank considered following him and trying to talk things out some more, but then his reasoning got the better of him. He didn't need to irritate the situation anymore than he already had.

Stillness and silence surrounded him as he watched Joe sitting on the bottom stairs to the house's upper deck, breathing in the cool night air greedily. Frank wasn't sure, and never would be, but he thought that his brother may have been crying.

An intense feeling of self loathing and sadness fell over Frank. He and Joe rarely fought, at least not anymore than brothers normally do. He hated that this situation had escalated to the point that it was influencing their relationship so negatively.

Frank knew that his father didn't miss Joe's graduation on purpose. Everyone knew that, even Joe himself. But Fenton Hardy was a man set in his ways and when he was making a breakthrough on an important case nothing could divert him. However, unfortunately for their father, his determined personality was a blessing and a curse. On one hand it made him a great detective, but also handicapped him in some areas of being a parent. Both Joe and Frank knew that their father loved them, but occasionally it wasn't always shown directly on the surface.

Frank could understand why Joe was so disappointed by his father's actions, but he knew that drinking wasn't going to help. Especially if he were to get slapped with a DUI. Of course, perhaps that was what Joe wanted- something to pull their father's attention, good or bad. With a sigh he looked out to the dark silhouette of his brother once more. He couldn't see him very well as the moon was but a small sliver in the sky above, but he was sure that he had calmed down, at least some. Frank ran a hand over his tired face and smiled grimly.

He knew his father was going to get a taste of this bitterness soon- it had been nearly a month now that Joe had been fighting off the conversation, stewing in his anger- and he hoped all would turn out okay. But knowing his brother, there would be difficulties, no matter what happened.