Here we are! The final chapter of What Was Lost! I cannot thank you enough for the amount of love and support I have gotten when writing this story. It means so much to know you are enjoying it.
And I come to you with news. The sequel to this story should be up soon (if not already). It is called Finding Family and is a collection of short stories dealing with the aftermath of this. I hope you will give it a go.
Once again, thank you so much for the love you have given this story!
Frank didn't believe for one moment that Walker was ever going to let them go. His gut told him the moment they left the police station with him, they were dead meat. He glanced toward Joe, seeing that Joe was moving forward. He was making an act of being hesitant, playing a terrified teenager. But Frank could see Joe had a plan and nerves of steel. He met Frank's eye, asking for him to play along.
"Please, I won't tell anyone," Joe pleaded.
There was a crack in his voice and his blue eyes were beginning to water. Frank would have been convinced Joe was breaking down if he had not seen the look Joe had offered him before.
"I just want all of this to be over!" Joe continued. "Just let us go. We won't tell a soul."
Joe lunged at Walker, throwing himself against him in a desperate, begging gesture. Frank watched as Walker roughly shoved him back.
"I always knew you were a coward at heart, Brampton," Walker snarled.
"He's not a coward or a Brampton," Frank returned.
He studied Joe. There was triumph on his face. Joe seemed convinced he had succeeded in doing something. Frank just needed to work out what so he could make a move that worked alongside Joe's plan. He let his eyes play over his brother, looking for some sign as to what he had done. Joe had his hands behind his back, looking at Walker with the utmost respect. But Frank could see he was holding something there.
He had taken something from Walker. Frank turned, scanning the detective.
He had to bite back a smirk as he realised exactly what Joe had managed to steal. Walker's weapon. And the officer had not noticed. Frank guessed years of thievery did pay off.
"Look, Walker, we're not going to leave willingly. So either you shoot us or you walk us out of here at gunpoint as your hostages," Frank said firmly.
Walker snarled. He went to reach for his weapon. It was a blind grab, fuelled by muscle memory alone. His face fell as he realised he was grabbing at the air. He turned, looking for his gun.
"What…?" he managed.
Frank took advantage of his momentary confusion. He dove forward, slamming a vicious punch into the detective's jaw. He stumbled back, hitting the wall hard. Although Walker was dazed, Joe barely gave him a moment to cover. He landed a blow to the detective's stomach, causing him to double over. Then he pulled back, going to swing the detective's weapon down on his head like a club. Frank rushed to intervene.
"You could do serious damage!" he gasped.
Walker was battling to recover as the two were distracted. Frank turned around too fast for him too. He landed his elbow against the man's head, knocking him unconscious to the floor.
"He's out," Frank said.
"Gonna have to testify against him too, aren't I?" Joe sighed.
Frank nodded.
"We'll both have to. Which is a good thing. We make quite the team."
There was the rustle of fabric as Laura once again tweaked her coat. She glanced into the rearview mirror and fixed her hair, flicking her hands about to try and dispel some of her nervous energy. Rushed DNA tests had confirmed once and for all that Joe was Joseph Hardy. The moment the news had been confirmed, there had been a flurry of frantic phone calls, paperwork being filed, requests being made. They were going to go to see him at a foster facility. As far as Frank could tell, Joe had spent the night at an emergency foster placement. A gaggle of lawyers had slaved overnight to put together a plea deal that got Joe off with a series of warnings and a good helping of community service. It wasn't hard to play the vulnerable manipulated teenager card when the person who'd brought you into a life of crime had kidnapped you as a four-year-old and exerted influence over you throughout all that time.
Laura Hardy had driven to New York overnight. Gertrude had begged to be allowed to come but Fenton had asked her not to. He didn't want to overwhelm Joe. Three people were more than enough.
The three had barely slept, too excited about the prospect of getting to see Joe again. Frank had been worried. He and Joe had not been allowed contact and Frank was terrified they were going to find out Joe had bolted or that some friend of Marsden's had decided to take him to get revenge. But in the morning they had gotten the call. Joe was still there. The visit was still going ahead.
"Joe isn't going to mind how you look," Frank assured Laura from the backseat.
She drew in a deep breath and assured her son she knew.
"I just… He's my baby and I haven't… He's been through so much. I just want everything to be perfect for him. I know it's stupid."
"It's not stupid," Fenton assured her.
The night before, Fenton had asked Frank if he knew what Joe's interests were. What little Frank had been able to remember from Joe's room and his time with the teenager had been relayed and when Frank had gotten up, he had noticed his father had been doing a little research. He was just as nervous as Laura, just doing a better job of hiding it. Frank wished he could reassure them that everything was going to be fine, that Joe was going to spring into their arms and beg to be allowed to come and live with them in Bayport. But he was a realist and Joe had been through a lot. His ability to trust adults had been limited even before Marsden had let Frank hold a knife to Joe's throat and told him to take the teenager's life. Frank just hoped that they would be able to get Joe to understand that the Hardys cared about him, that they had always wanted him back, that declaring him dead had been the only way they could keep their family from falling apart. He wanted Joe to understand that his real parents would never hurt him, that no reasonable adult would hurt him or neglect him, and that he was going to get support from them through whatever he choose to do next.
They were met at the door by a chirper woman who kept a smile on her face as she relayed the rules of the visit, that Joe was going to be in complete control and it was over when Joe said it was over. Laura asked if Joe was okay, how he had slept, if he had eaten breakfast that morning. Joe had not slept well, they were told. He had had nightmares, been found sitting on the roof of the house when it had been breakfast time. But he had eaten, had drunk, had apologised for scaring them all by climbing onto the roof.
They were led to a room with a bright red door and frosted glass in the window. A sign declared it to be the 'visiting room'. The woman knocked on the door, peering inside. Through the small gap he was allowed, Frank could see the room was decorated with bright colours, a scattering of toys meant for children far younger than Joe on the floor.
"He's ready for you," the woman said, holding the door slightly open.
Fenton nodded a mute thank you and shuffled past her to catch the door. He went to go in before stopping himself.
"Frank, you want to lead the way?"
Biting his lip, Frank nodded. He slowly edged inside.
Joe was sitting on the floor, wedged into the corner like he was expecting some sort of attack. He was dressed in jeans and a long sleeve button-up shirt, the gel in his hair telling Frank he had made an effort even though nervous habits had left it ruffled at strange angles. Frank cleared his throat to draw Joe's gaze.
"Hey," Frank said when the blue eyes locked onto him.
"Hey," Joe replied.
There was a long moment and Joe stood with obvious reluctance, eyes passing onto the door over Frank's shoulder.
"No need to rush. We can take things slow. One at a time or…"
"Let's just get this over with," Joe said.
His words made it sound like he was reluctant. His voice betrayed the turmoil of fear and excitement and trepidation. He looked toward Frank and nodded once, swallowing hard to battle back a sudden dry sensation in his throat.
"Mom! Dad!"
It was Laura who entered first. She stopped dead in the doorway, a hand raised to her mouth, tears forming in her eyes. She whispered something neither brother could catch before taking a step towards the brothers. Joe drunk in the blonde hair that matched his own, the blue eyes that glistened like his. He swallowed hard, feeling like something had blocked his throat.
"Hi," he managed.
"It's really you! It's really you!" Laura repeated.
She caught herself, taking a step toward Joe.
"I don't… I don't want to make you uncomfortable," she said slowly. "Can I just…?"
She nodded her head toward Joe. He looked a little alarmed but didn't protest. Nor did he flinch back when Laura slowly raised a hand. He let her soft fingers trace lines across his cheek, her breath catching in her throat. Fresh tears began to spring into her eyes. Frank watched as Joe carefully shifted toward her touch.
A shuddering breath was drawn from Joe. An attempt to stifle a sob failed miserably. A tear rolled down the teenager's cheek as his breath hitched.
"Oh, baby," Laura cooed.
She held out her arms and Joe collapsed into them, burying his head into her shoulder. Laura cradled him tight, running her hand through his blond hair as she whispered reassurances into his ear.
"It's okay. It's okay. We've found you. We've found you."
Frank heard the door creak and glanced over. He watched as his father slipped into the room. His eyes were fixed on the teenaged boy in his wife's arms. A thousand emotions flicked through his eyes: suspicion, regret, disbelief. Carefully, hesitantly, Joe pulled back from Laura's grasp. He let her study his face for a moment more and opened his mouth to speak. Words failed him. He forced a weak, watery smile in their place.
Fenton cleared his throat.
Joe peeled himself away from Laura, turning his eyes onto Fenton. He swallowed thickly.
"I… Um… Hello. Sir," Joe managed.
"You don't have to call me sir," Fenton said. "Fenton is fine."
Joe offered him a grateful nod.
"What would you prefer? Joseph? Joe? I don't…"
"Joe," the blond teenager said.
"I'm sorry about what happened the first time we met," Fenton told him. "What Walker did was…"
Joe shrugged it off. He turned, examining the room.
"Why don't you tell us about yourself?" Laura said. "Frank says you like video games."
They talked for what felt like hours. Frank didn't know how long it really was. He didn't care. He knew they were getting special treatment because of the situation and knew the moment Joe felt overwhelmed, the session would end.
They talked about Joe's interests, about Bayport, about the sports the two brothers enjoyed. One time Frank was able to draw a laugh out of Joe and the sound brought tears to Laura's eyes. Joe had apologised and Laura had told him he had nothing to apologise for.
"I always remembered your laugh," she told him. "You were always laughing. Everything was so wonderful to you."
Joe shifted, not having the strength to say he didn't see the world as such a wonderful place anymore. Instead, he met Laura's eyes.
"Where did I use to play?" he asked.
"The beach," Fenton said. "You loved the beach."
A smile flickered across Joe's face and he admitted he did still love the beach.
"Oh, you a swimmer or a sunbather?" Laura asked lightly.
"Scuba diver," Joe told her.
Laura's face lit up.
"Frank scuba dives. Maybe you two could do it together sometime."
Frank went to agree but Joe shook his head, saying that he didn't go away much.
"Marsden doesn't-" he began.
Then he stopped himself. His nose crinkled comically.
"Marsden doesn't get to say what I can do now," he told them.
There were smiles and nods from those around him. Joe shifted uncomfortably.
"What happens now?" Joe asked, looking between the three before him.
Laura and Fenton looked at each other. Frank went to speak but his father's hand on his shoulder told him it perhaps wasn't his place.
"We think what happens now really depends on what you would like to happen," Laura declared. "And we want you to do whatever feels right for you. This is your choice and we will respect whatever it is you decide."
Joe's nod conveyed his understanding and gratitude all in one. Yet Frank could see in the way his eyes flicked between them that he was looking for which was the right answer, which one would please them the most. Frank tried to do his best to keep his expression neutral, hoping his parents would do the same. It had to be Joe's decision. The entire point was that it was Joe's choice. He was fourteen. He needed somewhere to stay until he was eighteen and as far as Frank was concerned, it needed to be a place Joe wouldn't leave at eighteen and never return to. He needed a place where he would feel safe and loved and cared for. He needed a home.
"The first option is that you stay in New York," Fenton began. "You'd live in a group home or a foster home. You could have contact with us. We'd even visit if you wanted. But you'd be able to stay in New York, where you know people and places and you go to school."
Joe said nothing. His face was emotionless but Fenton could tell from the boy's intelligent eyes that he had understood and was weighing up the options.
"Or, you could be moved into the foster system in our local area where you and Frank could attend the same school and hang out together if you want but you'd still have your own space."
There was a long pause. Joe opened his mouth to speak before shutting it once more. Then he looked away, sucked in a deep breath and looked back to Fenton.
"So, one or two? New York or Bayport?"
"There's a third option," Laura said. "But we understand it would be a big change and we don't want to make you feel uncomfortable."
Joe asked what the option was. Frank couldn't help but smirk at the way Joe navigated life. Everyone else was fussing, nervously fretting over how he was going to react. Joe just cut through all the fear and nervousness and immediately got to the heart of the issue.
"You could, if you wanted to, come and stay with us," Laura said. "As our son. Because you're still our little boy and we would love to have you come and stay with us if that if what you'd want. But it would be a very big step and I don't want you to feel like you have to. Or that you have to right away either. We will understand if you need time to think about it. We will understand if you want to stay in foster care. But our door is always going to be open for you."
Joe pursed his lips for a second.
"Have you got space?" he asked.
Laura nodded and told Joe in a hushed voice that they had already got a room in mind for him. She quickly corrected herself, saying it was only there if he wanted it and that if he did want to stay in foster care, he could use it if he wanted to visit.
"I do want it," Joe said. "But I want you to want it too."
Frank couldn't hold back his smile. It grew across his face, so wide it felt like his face was going to crack in half. He rushed to Joe's side and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, relieved when Joe didn't flinch back. In fact, the smallest of smiles began to trace across his face.
"I don't think I have ever wanted anything more, little brother."
I really hope you enjoyed this final chapter and the entire story. Please consider leaving a review and do go check out the sequel: Finding Family!
