A/N: So… here it is, the conclusion, the explanation, everything! I know it's massively late, and I've been an awful fanfiction-er with all these delays… and then I apologize, swear to come back for good, and disappear again. Well, this time, I'm just going to admit that fanfiction has been the last thing on my mind lately, as sad as that is, what with it being summer break, working at a Boys & Girls Club, going on vacation, and trying to spend every second of spare time I have with my boyfriend! But I promise that I will try my best to stick with my stories this time… and I hope you guys enjoyed reading this fic as much as I did writing it! If so, please review! Enjoy!
Eighty Years and Counting
Part Four: 2012 (And Counting!)
Frank and Joe stared blankly at the Doctor, while the large-nosed man and red-haired girl (she was hot, Joe decided, and even Frank couldn't help but agree with what he knew his brother was thinking) looked on, confused but used to it, apparently. "I'm sorry," said Frank, "but what kind of Doctor did you say you were, again?"
"Never said," the Doctor answered. "Bit of this and that… I've got a degree in cheese making from the 2104 Moon University. Moon-iversity was what they called it. Ha. That was a weird year!"
The man and woman looked at each other, eyebrows raised in not quite disbelief, but exasperation. Frank and Joe, however, were both wondering if this Doctor was not really a doctor at all, but an escaped patient from a psychiatric ward. Then again, there were so many things that didn't add up if that were the case… The disappearing Police Box that looked bigger on the inside, the way the Doctor had been there, watching, when they'd escaped, looking pleased as if he'd helped them along. The fact that even though he talked like a madman, he seemed to know more than any of them and his eyes held more sorrow, intelligence, knowledge, giddiness, and thirst for adventure than they'd ever seen. There was definitely something more to the Doctor than met the eye, so instead of questioning him any further on his identity, they decided to let him do the talking and see if any logical explanation would surface.
Well, Frank decided this. Joe wasn't quite done with his interrogation yet. "Dude…" he said from the bed, his blonde eyebrow seeming dark against the paleness of his face. "What's up with the bowtie?"
The Doctor grinned. As he spoke, his two friends mouthed his response with him, rolling their eyes good-naturedly. "Bowties are cool."
"Sure," Joe agreed. "Why not?"
"See?" the Doctor said, smiling madly and nudging the girl in the side. "Told you so."
"Doctor, I probably sound like a broken record after all this time," the other man said, scratching his sandy-blonde hair, "but I'm totally lost. Who are these people… really? You've been running around acting all… spacey-wacey, but more so than usual. What's going on here?"
Nobody spoke, and all eyes trained on the Doctor. Frank and Joe shared a momentary glance before also focusing on the strange man standing near the hospital room's door, hands in pockets, bowtie slightly askew, smiling knowingly at the people in the room. "Alright, Rory, you're right," he said. "I think it's all coming together now." He turned to look at Frank and Joe, looking each in the eye but allowing his gaze to linger on Joe. "Sorry I took so long to help you fellas out, but if I'm right – and I almost always am – you were fine on your own. Sure, I used a little sonicing in the end, but all you needed to get out of that sticky situation was a couple of severed ropes, eh? Once Frank was free, it was home-free for you both!"
"Wait… you caused the ropes to come untied?" Frank asked, incredulous, thinking about how one minute he had been trying to keep pressure on Joe's wound with his hands tied tightly behind his back, and the next minute, the ropes had broken and he was fighting for control of the gun to save Joe. He hadn't even really thought about it until now; it was his concern for his brother that had caused him to have not noticed the exact moment he was mysteriously free. "How? You were nowhere near me!"
The Doctor reached into his tweed jacket and pulled out a silvery cylinder, clicking a button on the side and making it chirp and the tip light up green. "This is a sonic screwdriver," he announced, "and it can do all sorts of things, from quite a distance, too. Disable weapons, make lights go out; it can even make a really cool zappy noise, but it can also unlock locks…"
"And cut through ropes?" Joe guessed. "I still don't get why you'd want to make a screwdriver sonic of all things, but okay, fine. If that's really what happened, why didn't you do more with your handy-dandy tool? I mean, no offense, dude, but I got shot. Why didn't you zap the bad guys and get us out of there sooner?"
"Oh, you humans! Sometimes you forget how ingenious you are on your own! I used the TARDIS to track you down in our current time stream and found you at the warehouse. I knew you were in trouble, but I also knew who you were. Are. Will be! I knew exactly what to do, because you, Frank Hardy, were a much, much more powerful force to reckon with than this old Doctor could have ever been!
"You see, I know all about you boys. I'm so thick; I can't believe I didn't see it sooner. I knew, I knew, that with just the tiniest bit of help, the littlest itty-bitty nudge, that you could save the day all on your own! Frank Hardy, you're a big brother, and a bloody good one at that! I knew you'd get your brother out alive if I'd just set you free… and you'd get yourself out, too, because if you died, who would look after Joe, eh? 'Course, he started the whole thing, didn't he, because he's just as good a little brother as you are a big brother! I knew that the great Hardy Boys could do it on their own!
"Humans, even at your greatest, you fail to see how much better you can be! You're writing your own stories, your way, and you don't need a silly old Doctor to get you out of trouble, not really! I just sort of… helped." He grinned madly.
Frank was furious. "That doesn't change the fact that he still got shot!" he fumed. "You were there, you could've prevented that! You said your silly screwdriver disarms weapons. Why didn't you use it to disarm the gun that shot Joe?"
"He's got a point," the man previously addressed as Rory commented.
"Well, it's obvious, isn't it?" the Doctor said, hazel eyes wide.
"Not really," Rory shrugged. "Amy, do you have any idea what he's talking about now?"
The red-head, Amy, raised her eyebrows. "When do I ever? So, Doctor, why didn't you stop the big, bad bullet? I've seen you zap homo-reptilia guns into useless pieces of junk like it's nothing. What gives?"
As she spoke, Joe caught Frank's eye and mouthed, Homo-reptilia?
Frank just shrugged, totally out of his depth. For an explanation, this conversation was just going from weird to ridiculously weird. He decided to just keep his mouth shut and be clueless for a while longer in the hopes that something might actually be explained in the near future.
"Didn't you see the handle of the gun?" the Doctor asked. "It was polished wood!"
"Ah, got it," Amy said. "The sonic doesn't work on wood," she informed the boys.
"It's a screwdriver!" Joe protested incredulously. "Aren't screwdrivers for putting up shelves and stuff made out of wood?"
"Oi, don't dis the sonic!" the Doctor protested. "It did just save your life."
"No," Frank shook his head. "We saved each other's lives. Like we always do."
The Doctor hooted in excitement, flipping the sonic screwdriver in his hand and sliding it back into his jacket. "Finally! That was the whole point! Now, about that rift… I think it would be better if I just showed you. It's quite close, actually… and the largest bit is right in your own home. Care to see?"
"You're forgetting, Joe's been shot. He's in the hospital. He's not going anywhere for a couple of days," Frank said.
"Nonsense! He'll be just fine. Don't worry, I've already taken care of everything." He pulled out a wallet and flipped it open, revealing a small slip of paper. "Says right here that I'm a specialist at these kinds of injuries, and Joseph has been released into my care. 'Course, took me a while to get past those silly policemen outside the hospital, considering they think me some sort of police impersonator, which is hurtful, because it says I'm police, right on my box…" He shook his head. "But it's all cleared up now. My TARDIS is parked in a storage closet a few doors down and the med bay is all ready to give you a speedy recovery, Joe. And then, I'll show you the truth… and you'll be able to decide for yourselves what and who you want to be. This is your life, men, and I'm about to show you a whole other side of it. Come along, Pond, Hardys, and Rory! Geronimo!"
And for some strange reason, even though they didn't understand hardly a word that came out of the Doctor's mouth, Frank and Joe knew that they could trust him. Frank gingerly helped Joe out of bed, allowing his brother to lean on him as they followed the Doctor, Amy, and Rory out of the hospital room and down the hall a few feet, before arriving at a large closet, whose doors the Doctor threw open with a flourish. Inside, just like the day they'd first seen it on a street corner near their home, was that blue box. The Doctor smiled, snapped his gangly fingers, and the doors swung open – as well as Frank and Joe's mouths. It was incredible… impossible.
"It… it's really bigger on the inside," Frank stammered. "How's that possible?"
"Welcome to the TARDIS!" the Doctor said. "Now, come along, let's get you to the med bay and patch you up, yeah?"
As he and his companions began to lead the Hardys through the futuristic, gleaming control room and through several corridors to the medical room, Joe, despite being exhausted and in pain, couldn't help but lean over to Frank and mutter, "Yeah, bro, about what I said last time we saw this thing – I totally mean it. We've got to get us one of these!"
The TARDIS was mind-blowing. Despite Frank's anger at the Doctor for not doing more to help Joe earlier, he couldn't help but stare in awe at the interior of the police box. Because, well, it wasn't a police box. The inside was enormous, and the Doctor informed them proudly that this was just the console, a couple yards of corridor, and the med bay. Just wait until they saw the swimming pool, the library, and the swimming pool in the library. The squash courses! The atrium, the gymnasium, the wardrobe!
While the Doctor set about taking care of Joe in the med bay, he started to explain about the TARDIS, referring to the logic-defying machine as a "her" and blabbering on about all the cool stuff she could do. The TARDIS was a time-machine that traveled through space and time and the Doctor, apparently, was some sort of extra-terrestrial called a Time Lord. He was over 900 years old and had traveled all over the universe, even outside of it, and knew a little to a lot of just about everything in existence. Including, it seemed, Frank and Joe themselves, although he wasn't ready to divulge this particular information just yet.
Frank was wary about letting this madman dance around his little brother with a variety of otherworldish devices, one of which looked suspiciously like a toilet brush with a ray gun sticking out of it. Amy and Rory assured him that the Doctor knew what he was doing – he was called the Doctor, after all – but when that didn't do much to ease Frank's worry, Rory added that he was a nurse and would keep an eye on things to make sure Joe got the best treatment possible.
Frank had to hand it to the Doctor and his impossible machine and equipment. Within the hour, Joe's gunshot wound had been reduced to a small scratch, speedily healed by the alien equipment in the TARDIS's medical bay.
"See?" the Doctor beamed, waving his Cybertronic Muscle-Rebuilder (A.K.A. Toilet Brush of Mass Destruction) in the air. "Healing wounds like this is easy! You know, when you've got medical equipment straight out of the year 95 thousand-dash-apple-dash-23304!" He grinned. "Great, great year… Anyway! How do you feel, Joe?"
Joe flexed his arm tentatively, moved around, massaged his shoulder, and grinned, blue eyes dancing in wonder. "It's fine," he said, gaping at the Doctor and his friends. "It's like I wasn't shot at all! How did you…?"
"He's a time-traveling alien with a futuristic doctor's kit," Frank deadpanned, still reeling but finding no alternative but trusting what the Doctor had told him, considering that they were standing in an enormous sick room in a tiny police box in a hospital closet and after today, he'd probably believe just about anything.
Joe looked at him in surprise. "I thought you were skeptical," he grinned.
"I am. Or was. But as Sherlock Holmes once said, after you've eliminated the possible, then it's got to be the impossible. And this," he gestured around him, "is most definitely impossible."
The Doctor smiled. "Ah, there's another great fictional-but-not-really character! Great bloke. Moody, though. Hell of a right hook!"
Frank raised an eyebrow. "Okay, so maybe I'm still a bit skeptical," he admitted.
Joe chuckled, and soon the Doctor, Amy, and Rory had joined in, giggling at Frank's statement or the absurdity of this whole situation, or simply because they'd all gone mad, Frank didn't know, but as he began to laugh as well, he felt an odd assurance that everything was going to be okay, even if the very order of the universe had been turned on its head in one crazy afternoon.
The Doctor had soon ushered everyone back to the control room, and Frank and Joe still in a daze from all they'd seen. And, according to their time-traveling pilot, there was much more to come. The Doctor, Amy, and Rory worked together to pull a few levers, hit a few buttons, and suddenly the giant glass tube in the center of the console came to life, glowing and whirring. There was a jolt, and everyone was knocked over as an invisible force hit the TARDIS. When the doors opened once again, Frank and Joe were once more flabbergasted.
"We've moved," Joe crowed, eyes wide like those of a child in a candy store. "We're in—"
"—our basement," Frank finished for his brother, eyebrows raised so that they blended with his dark hair. "Why…?"
"Because," said the Doctor, "this is where everything is centered. This is why you are over eighty years old but still teenagers!"
"Please, explain, Doctor," Rory said, rubbing his temples. "Because this is making less sense by the second."
"Okay," the Doctor agreed, grinning wildly at the group of confused people around him. "Behold – the Hardy basement! But it's not just a basement, is it?" He didn't allow time for anyone to answer before he plowed on, eager to finally reveal the knowledge that he'd been barely containing all day. "No, it's a basement that is absolutely coated with residual, active time energy! And not just any time energy!" He looked at Amy. "Amy Pond, do you remember our second adventure together?"
"Starship UK?" Amy confirmed. "How could I forget it? It's where we met the star whale."
"Aaaand where we met Liz 10," the Doctor said. "Do you remember much about the queen?"
"Well," said Amy, scrunching up her nose as she thought, "she was really hundreds of years old. They'd slowed her body clock using some sort of time energy…"
"…That was developed from residue from a temporal explosion in the year 2100," the Doctor added excitedly. "You see, sometimes the time vortex has disturbances, causing a temporal flux. Sometimes it's nothing, just a random ripple in the time stream, or the skin of the world, which is where you'd get—"
"Ghosts," Frank nodded. The Doctor beamed proudly and Amy and Rory looked at him, impressed that he was able to figure out what the Doctor was thinking. Frank shrugged, grinning humbly. "Well, in all of our cases concerning ghosts, I've managed to research just about every theory and method for ghosts existing. The temporal flux was always a favorite."
"He's a bit of a nerd," Joe offered to Amy, winking conspiratorially, but looked at his older brother with pride all the same. He stopped attempting to flirt with the Scottish woman after Rory cleared his throat, irritated.
"Okay, Doctor," said Amy, "I understand that much. But this is more than just a little tear in time, right?"
"Bingo! No, what's happened here is that there was a massive explosion in the time vortex, and the debris was scattered. Some of the larger bits of residual energy hit the planet and began to thrive. They usually would've died out by now, but in a place where there's a natural time rift, like Cardiff, or, in this case, a small town in Massachusetts, that energy begins to grow and feed upon the rift and feed into the timelines of all those within a… erm… well, ten-to-sixty mile radius. So basically, to put in in simpler terms, this residual time energy is feeding off the rift and slowing the body clocks of nearly everyone in Bayport."
"But I still don't—" Joe began, but the Doctor waved him aside and continued talking.
"I'd say, judging by the time the books came out, that this explosion happened in the early nineteen hundreds. Possibly late twenties or early thirties. And it's stretched out your timelines, causing you to age maybe a day every year, if that much. You don't notice, though, because while your time streams are being slowed by the time energy, the rift itself is feeding upon the extended timelines and causing time to blur together. So, while it may seem like you've only been solving mysteries for about a year, it's actually been about eighty years in the rest of the world's time."
"I think we'd know if we'd lived in the nineteen-thirties," Joe commented dubiously.
"Would you?" the Doctor challenged. "Tell me, Joe, do you remember the old motorcycle you used to have?"
"Yeah, it was a classic!" Joe grinned.
"And your and Frank's old car?"
"Of course!"
"So when exactly did the black van come into play?"
"When we helped the Network—"
"No, no, no. You're not getting it. When did the black van become an option? When did technology improve that much? When did you get your first computers? How long ago was it?"
"I… I don't know," Frank admitted, suddenly concerned that the more he thought about these things, the less he could remember. "But…"
"That's because time, while seeming to be passing at a normal rate, has been blurring and going on for much longer than your human minds can remember!"
"Hey!"
"Joe, don't worry," Rory said, sighing. "He insults other species all the time. I don't even know if he notices it anymore."
"The point is, Rory, that everyone in Bayport has had a lengthened time stream, and they don't even know it! Now, some people may have aged faster than others, but that's because once someone is out of the general area of the rift, their timelines will begin to speed up marginally, and the farther you are away from the rift, the faster your time stream will speed up. You see, boys, every time you go overseas, like to Scotland or England or Africa, your time clocks begin to tick again. Your father has spent much time out of Bayport and thus has aged a bit quicker than your mum."
Frank and Joe looked at each other in astonishment. While their dad was a handsome, relatively young looking man, he had started to show some age lines and a sprinkling of gray hair, while their mother seemed to have stayed basically the same. And since Aunt Gertrude had come to live with them, she hadn't seemed to age nearly as much as her brother… As crazy as it was, the boys' detective minds were rolling and they began to see the puzzle pieces connecting together.
"Okay," Frank said slowly. "Is there any way we can see this time energy?"
"Ah, you detectives, you've always got to have proof of everything, eh?"
"That's… kind of what detectives do," Joe pointed out, a half-smile tugging at one corner of his mouth. "Look for… proof."
"Very well." The Doctor reached into his tweed jacket and pulled out five paper pairs of 3D glasses – the kind with one blue lens and one red one.
"Haven't seen these in ages!" Joe grinned, snatching his pair. "They only use those ones that look like sunglasses now.
"Now, put them on. You should be able to see the time energy…" Everyone did as they were told and the boys gasped to see the tiny, glowing particles that absolutely drenched their basement, their skin, their clothes. "You've never traveled in time," the Doctor noted, "and yet you are coated in time energy. It's what's slowed your body clocks, made you live as long as you have. And now you have a choice." He took his glasses off, and the boys, Amy, and Rory followed suit.
The Doctor looked the boys in the eyes, a serious expression on his face. "I can get rid of the residual energy. Your time streams will return to normal. You'll grow up at a normal rate. Or. I can leave. Only come back if I have to, if the rift and energy creates a dangerous combination, which I don't see as a real possibility. You can keep on living, being young and solving mysteries for years and years to come. Your friends and family, as long as they stay in Bayport, connected with you and the energy emanating from your house, will be the same. The choice is yours."
Amy watched with wide eyes as Frank and Joe looked at each other, trying to decide what the best choice would be. The red-head found herself wondering what she would do were she in their position. Sure, it would be easy just to say, "Sure, I'll virtually become immortal," but it was more complicated than that, wasn't it?
Frank and Joe lived a dangerous life, that much was clear. Their confrontation with the gang, the near-execution and Joe getting shot had shaken her up more than she had let on. She was used to being in dangerous situations, but there was something different about fighting aliens with ray guns and seeing humans with bullets and pistols finding pleasure in killing a couple of good-hearted teens. It made her ill. The Doctor always talked about how wonderful humans were, but what about people like that? How could the Doctor admire humans when gangs and murderers and people like Hitler existed? She guessed there were bad eggs in every species, but still…
It had spooked her.
If she were the Hardy boys, would she choose to live longer and face more dangers or get on with her life, being able to grow up and experience more of life sooner? Of course, if time moved in such a way that she wouldn't notice the length of time, it might not even make a difference. She could tell, though, at certain times, when Frank would glance at his brother or vice versa, that there was something in their eyes, something old and tired saying that even though they didn't remember it all, the weight of nearly a century of life and danger rested in their minds.
She really didn't know what she'd do. Or did she? She glanced at her fiancé, with his soft eyes, cute haircut, and big nose. A surge of love and longing rose within her and she realized that if she could spend a hundred years with Rory rather than one, she would take the most time.
Frank and Joe must've come to the same kind of decision, because they looked at each other, then around at their home where their family lived, probably thinking also about Bayport and all the people they loved that lived around them.
"You can leave it," Frank decided, and Joe nodded in agreement. "It may be hard sometimes, but if I can extend the amount of time I have with my friends, my family, and my annoying little brother, I'd do it gladly!"
"Plus, that means we'll get to keep on solving mysteries!" Joe crowed.
"And I'll have to keep bailing you out of trouble," Frank realized. "But that's okay. I'd never get tired of protecting you, bro."
"Me either," Joe agreed.
The Doctor was nearly glowing with excitement. "Bravo, boys! I had a feeling that's what you'd choose."
Amy smiled warmly at her fiancé and new friends. "I think you made a good decision."
"Me, too," Joe said. "But Doctor, there's still one thing I'm confused about. Earlier, you mentioned some guy named Stratemeyer. And then you said something about books. Care to explain?"
The Doctor shifted from one foot to the other. "Well, you see, it's a bit of a paradox, and we Time Lords don't do paradoxes, but I guess… you should know… A few people who have spent a lot of time near the rift, or visited a lot, from the outside, have retained the gift of sort of… seeing through it. A man named Edward Stratemeyer was one of them. When he visited Bayport, around the time of the explosion, I'd wager, he was stuck with a bit of residual energy, too, and that made him more privy to what was going on here. He thought that you boys were mighty impressive, so he started writing books about you, although he was simply influenced by what he saw here. Once he moved outside of the rift, a lot of the information left him, like it does most visitors as the energy is purged from them. But a bit remained, enough for him to have the idea of two teenage detectives. He started writing fiction novels.
"They caught on fairly quickly, but as most outsiders either forget most of what they've seen about the energy or simply, unintentionally avoid it because it's so complex, too complex for even their subconscious, since they aren't used to it. It's a very dodgy process. Anyway, over the years, you could say that the Hardy Boys books have become a cult classic. Some of the books out there are based on truth, some spawn from the ghostwriter's imaginations. But the point is, you've become legendary, and you didn't even know about it, which is a good thing, because, as I said earlier – paradox! You've become a world of your own, alive in so many people's minds, yet existing here in Bayport quietly the whole time. Sure, you've helped people out from all over, but most don't make the connection. Frank and Joe Hardy the fictional characters have almost become separate entities, due to the wide range of books, those horrid Undercover Brother novels, and of course, the fan-fictions."
"Fan…fictions?"
"Oh, yes, well… you've got quite a following. Or… literature Frank and Joe do. I'm not sure if I'd try to look any up though." He cleared his throat, almost nervously.
"Why's that?" Frank asked curiously.
"Paradox, right?" Amy supplied.
"Nah, that'd probably be okay. But… some of these authors can be a bit… overzealous with their treatment of their favorite characters. They can tend to be a bit brutal, so I've heard. I'd… steer clear if I didn't want to have nightmares, boys. Some of the things that happen to fan-fiction Frank and Joe are a bit… gruesome. Terrifying. But brilliant, I'm sure! I do love a good fan-fiction now and again!" He scratched his chin. "I wonder if there are any fan-fictions about me!"
Rory rolled his eyes. "That's just silly, Doctor."
The Doctor shook his head. "You're right, Rory; besides, even if there were I wouldn't read them. I'm too much of a character to be reduced to mere words on a computer screen!"
"You can say that again," Amy muttered.
Frank started to chuckle and soon Joe joined in, followed by Amy, then Rory, and the Doctor.
Sure, all logic had been defied that day. The boys had not only learned that they'd been solving mysteries for eighty years, but that they would be able to keep doing so for countless more years to come. Their time together with their friends and family was just beginning, and if anything were to go wrong with the rift or the time energy, well, they knew just the man to patch things up, even if he was a bit mad.
And, best of all, no matter what, they'd always have each other. They were glad of their choice. It'd been eighty years of ups and downs and they were happy to make it…
(You guessed it!) … Eighty years and counting!
THE END
A/N: I'm seriously considering a spin-off or two from this, particularly where Frank and Joe decide to brave the world of fanfiction… so keep your eyes peeled for that! Hope you enjoyed and if you have any questions because I didn't explain something properly, feel free to message me or ask a question in your review! Thanks!
~Emachinescat ^..^