Author's Note: This is the chapter you've all been waiting for!!! *bounces* That's right! This is the chapter when You Know Who finally shows up!! *bounces*
Katchi: Voldemort? o.O
CairisRin still bouncing in place: No silly! :D Frnak!! O.o I mean Frank! *throws Frnak out and tosses Frank in.*
Frank: Hey! Easy there!!
CairisRin bouncing even higher now: Sorry, I'm a bit excited.
Katchi: So we can see.
CairisRin: Yes, because while normally I'd be waiting till midnight to post this, my sister is treating me to the first showing of Two Towers and I'm not likely to get home till way after 3! *starts bouncing even faster*
Frank: ~.~ And here I thought maybe-
CairisRin: Oh don't get me wrong, I'm happy you're in the story now, too! As I'm sure the readers are, so let's get going! *bounces gleefully out the door*
Frank and Katchi wait patiently. Frank to Katchi: Is she-?
Katchi: Likely to remember she forgot to post? Eventually.
Frank: ^.^
----
Joe took off running down the beach as fast as he could, his heart pounding in his chest while a stitch grew in his side, not the in least slowing his progress.
"Hey Kid! What's the rush?" Aaron called out behind him, but Joe stoutly ignored the man, his eyes were fixed on the person ahead of him and it wasn't until he was near enough to make out the person's clothes before he slowed, coming to a hesitant stop a few feet away. A torrent of grief surged up inside him, enough to set a tremor in his hands and drain the blood from his face.
"Frank," Joe's voice cracked, coming out barely a whisper, and he had to fight to keep the tears submerged. It was his brother, in the same clothes as before, limp hands still cuffed together. Completely and utterly unmoving. Every ounce of Joe wanted to run, to flee the horror laid out before him, but he couldn't turn away, his eyes automatically taking in every detail as he fixedly stared at his brother's still body.
Frank's skin was pasty as much as it was sunburned with lips cracked and dry. Frank's right leg was wrapped in various areas with strips of black cloth, some wrapped around short sticks of driftwood.
Joe frowned.
A slightly longer piece of driftwood lay within hands' reach on Frank's other side, the end of it sharpened to a point and a mostly eaten fish carcass next to it. With a start, Joe suddenly realized Frank's jacket was moving ever so slightly up and down in a rhythmic motion. He was alive! The wave of relief was almost as hard to take as the grief had been and he limply fell to his knees next to his brother, tears forming silently in his eyes.
"Frank!" Joe cried out, his voice once again cracking as it choked on the lump in his throat. He grasped his brother's shoulders giving them a good shake.
The response was immediate as Frank came instantly awake with a yelp of pain. Joe didn't let go, for all he'd hoped he couldn't believe it and could only beam down happily and completely overcome with joy. "You're alive!"
"Joe?" Frank's dry voice rasped out as he squinted up at the face hovering over him.
"Well damn!" Aaron exclaimed walking up next to the brothers, an admiring smirk on his face as he regarded the pair. "You boys really are survivors, aren't you?"
Hearing the strange voice, Frank had automatically tried to shift away but that had only resulted in more pain for he suddenly cried out. "Frank, don't move!" Joe immediately told him, blinking tears away as he struggled with his straps to get into his pack.
Shaking hands picked a the knots until Aaron suddenly took the pack from him, and Joe almost lashed out at the smuggler to get it back in his emotional frenzy. Then Aaron stated calmly, "I've got it, kid." And had the pack undone and was handing Joe a coconut before Joe could really think on it.
Pulling out the cloth stopper, he helped his brother drink the water inside. Frank had tried to lean up, but didn't get much further than just tilting his head, taking the coconut in hand and greedily draining it of liquid. Joe took it back as Frank questioned in a strained voice. "Joe. What happened?"
"The helicopter crashed," Joe told him still smiling as he look for some of the stored coconut meat now. "We're all that survived." He could really care less that they were stuck on some random island in the Caribbean. Not now that Frank was alive!
"I've got to ask," Aaron stated, coming around to the other side. "How did you do it? The crash was two days ago and I know we weren't flying that low!"
"Why do you care?" Frank hissed out giving the smuggler a hard cold glare. A glare so much like what Joe had given Aaron the first time they met that the smuggler just laughed.
"You two are brothers! I didn't believe it at first, you don't look a thing a like." He stated with mirth and crouched down asking again. "Come on, how'd you do it? Cause if you ask me, it's like some deity is looking after you both."
Joe watched as disgust enveloped his brother's face, not realizing his own reflection reflected much the same with Aaron. The smuggler's conversation had pulled at Joe, reminding him that while he could care less about himself, Aaron could pose a threat to his brother, and soon his feeling of relief turned to worry accompanied with a new found sense of protection.
Frank seemed to be sizing the smuggler up but finally answered. "I dock dived, letting my feet break the water's surface. My right leg took the brunt of the impact but I can't move much. I've set all the breaks I could. And I've been eating fish to stay alive."
Aaron picked up the nearby stick, examining the pointed end. "Certainly not gnawed off, got a knife I take it?"
"A pocket knife."
"Where is it?" Aaron questioned glancing around.
"In my pocket," Frank growled out.
"Here," Joe quickly said, pushing the coconut into Frank's hands. "But I'll tell you, fish sounds pretty good right now," he added with a half smile trying to lighten the mood. Now that Frank was here, and alive, Joe knew they could get through this. They could get through anything together.
Frank really couldn't move. So much so, that just dragging him up the breach into the shade of the trees had overwhelmed him into temporary unconsciousness. Joe wished it'd lasted longer as he looked down at Frank's right leg and cringed. They had pulled his pants off to get a better view of what was wrong. It was amazing the leg hadn't just shattered. None of the breaks tore the skin, leaving only multiple fracturing in the bones almost right up to the hip. Dark red bruising and careful fingering identified where the brakes were. Joe counted seven. It really should have shattered. Maybe some deity was looking after them. The other leg was barely touched, not a single brake although there was substantial bruising up through the ankle.
"Just do it."
Joe looked up to meet Frank's determined gaze. Nodding, Joe took a deep breath then began setting the bones as best he could, working from the top of the thigh down. He cringed with every single one, anguish rising in him as Frank helplessly tried to hold in his cries of pain.
Both brothers were shaking heavily when they were done, and Joe sank heavily back to the sand, letting his head rest in his hands. He listened to their deep breathing for a while, then heard his brother whisper, "Thank you." And Joe looked up to see an approving smile on Frank's pale face. Breathing a sigh of relief Joe smiled back.
"Don't worry Frank." He told his older brother. "I'm going to take care of you." And he meant it.
Frank only nodded. Then asked suddenly. "So what's the deal with this Aaron guy?"
Joe looked along the beach the smuggler had disappeared down. He said he'd wanted to see what was about, but Joe was just as grateful for the privacy. "You mean do I trust him?" he asked looking back at Frank. "Of course not. But we're all stuck here aren't we?"
"Dad will come searching for us when we don't make our flight."
"And if he knew we were on some island I'd say 'yay.' But even then there's hundreds to search through and I don't think we're anywhere close to the Bahamas anymore."
"Joe!"
Frank's shocked bark pained Joe and he immediately felt ashamed, but the feeling that they were truly stuck here just wouldn't die away. Frank must have seen it in Joe's eyes for after a moment he closed his own eyes sighing. "I'm sorry Joe. I didn't mean-"
"No, it's okay Frank," Joe quickly said, more upset by the expression on Frank's face then by what he believed to be the truth. Forcing a smile, he clapped his brother's arm and said firmly. "You're right, dad will come looking." Frank forced a smile as well, and they left it at that.
Pulling out more rags, the black strips had been Frank's sacrificed shirt, Joe hunt for something to use as splints. Driftwood wouldn't work, most of the pieces were too short and any long ones weren't straight enough. If Frank's leg was going to heal properly, it needed to be absolutely and completely unmovable. As it was Joe didn't know too much about broken femurs, but had a recollection of someone braking their thigh and needing surgery. He desperately hoped they could do without that. With Frank's prompting, Joe brought back several fallen palm tree fronds and stripped off the leaves only to find the stalks, although a little prickly, straight and as strong as any oak branch. Likely the best they'd find. He quickly set about binding Frank's leg into near absolute immobility.
It was a while after Joe had Frank settled before Aaron showed up again in the distance, the smuggler jogging back towards them along the beach's edge. "All right boys, time to head back to the site before we start loosing light," he called out as he neared.
Joe shook his head. "We have to stay here. Frank can't be moved, his leg wouldn't hold up to it."
"Joe-" Frank started but Aaron had already begun talking again.
"Sorry kid, but this place is too far from the fresh water. It would take most of the day just to get there and back and no offense Boy Scout, but your coconut water bottles don't exactly hold that much!"
Joe got to his feet stiffening with anger as he faced the smuggler. "I'm not leaving," he ground out. "I'm not leaving my brother!"
Raising his hands, Aaron backed up a step, but he wasn't about to give in. "Whose talking about leaving who, kid? We can't stay here. Even with all the deities of the world looking down on you, I doubt you'd make it. Isn't it better to take the chance at loosing a leg then loosing your lives?"
"Joe-" Frank began again, but was interrupted once again.
The younger Hardy took a step closer to Aaron and told him determined, "We'll be fine here. I'm not moving him! It's too much risk that I'm not willing to take! He's going to be fine!"
Aaron regarded the teenager with a grim expression, shaking his head as if in disappointment. "I didn't want to do this," he said, pulling the gun from behind him where it'd been tucked into his pants. "But it's for your own good you know."
Joe heard his brother frantically calling out his name, but he was already in motion. A blind cold fury had filled him at the sight of the gun. How dare this man try to prevent him from protecting his brother! The young jock tackled the smuggler the best way he knew how, as if he were just another football player on the field. His right shoulder connected with the smuggler's chest as his hands reached for the gun they way he'd reach for the ball, feeling them close around the barrel right as the gun went off.
