Joe Hardy had a smile for every occasion. There was the 'cheesy photo smile,' the 'hello, cute girl, time to turn on the charm smile' and of course, Frank's favorite, the 'is this the face of someone who's guilty' smile. But when barreling down the stairs that morning and catching a glimpse of his father, standing in their kitchen, alive and whole, Joe burst out in his 'sincere and blissful' smile before throwing his arms around the elder man. Fenton laughed before returning the fierce embrace, a piece of toast still in his hands.
"Woah, never got this reception after returning from a business trip before," Fenton joked good naturedly. Joe sulked before returning the same sheepish grin his father wore.
"Sorry I worried you, kid," added Fenton Hardy, looking for once, older than he really was.
"Who was worried?" Joe played off, blinking at Frank who rolled his eyes.
Fenton laughed and patted Joe on the shoulder. Beside him, Laura was buttering his toast.
"Dad, I'm sorry about Michael," Joe spoke through a mouthful of cereal, his usual bright blue eyes downcast.
Fenton nodded and ruffled Joe's wavy blonde hair a bit with his fingertips before returning to his morning paper. Joe looked around the room, everything seemed so-normal. He eyed Frank through wisps of pale, blonde hair. Frank, flipping the pages of his copy of One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest (he was being tested on it this afternoon), shrugged innocently and mouthed the words, "I'll tell you later." Joe nodded and went back to his frosted flakes.
* * *
[one night before]
"Yes, it's me. Sorry for sneaking up on you like that, not bad for an old guy, huh?" Fenton Hardy asked, his usual grim face softening a bit when he saw the concerned look on Frank's face. The two men exchanged stares for a long while until Frank rose to clean up the mess he had caused fighting his would be attacker.
"Where have you been? We've been trying to contact you," whispered Frank in a tone that was harsher than he had expected.
Fenton schooled his features to relax, seeing the weary state of his eldest son he guessed the last twenty-four hours must have been as bad for Frank as it was for him. "I'm sorry Frank, but I couldn't get in contact with you, Joe or your mother until I was sure whoever's after me wouldn't go after all of you as well."
Frank's face fell. "You're too late for that." Shaking his head, Frank put a hand up to stop his father's next few words. "Back up and tell me everything. Starting with when those chess pieces came in, past your former partner's death and don't stop till you get to the part where you explain why someone's after you."
Fenton allowed himself to crack a smile at that before gesturing for Frank to take a seat on the couch. "Sit down, son. It's going to be a long night."
* * *
"It's not a big deal Joe," Frank told his baby brother as the two maneuvered their way through the hallways of Bayport High, "Sometimes I just can't-"
"Explain myself, not even to you," Joe finished his sentence and snorted. "Since when do you start quoting from dad?"
Frank stopped walking as he neared his destination. The two were going to have to face off just outside of Frank's AP Chemistry class. "I just. I can't tell you." Inwardly, Frank's stomach churned. He never had to withhold something his big from Joe before. He could only hope that Joe knew that this was hurting him as well. 'Forgive me, Joe.'
"Why not?" Joe didn't pout much. Six foot tall, muscularly built football players just didn't pout. But when he did…Frank winced. Well, living with him all his life didn't even make Frank immune.
"I can't, Joe. I'm. I'm sorry," Frank walked into his class, not missing the wounded look on Joe's face.
* * *
Joe awoke with a start. He schooled bleary blue eyes to focus on the face of his clock. Four a.m. He managed to sleep for two hours before the nightmares started again. In them it was always the same, he and Frank were pawns about to be crushed by a giant chess piece. Joe knew Frank didn't take much stock in hunches or "gut feelings," but when the sudden urge to check on Frank arose, Joe swung his legs over his bed and darted out of the room.
Yes, he was mad as hell at Frank for withholding information about his father's escapades and whatever mystery is surrounding themselves and that weird chessboard, now moved into the den. Just because he loved his brother didn't mean he didn't get mad at him. They had their bouts sure, but in the end, Joe could forgive Frank anything. It was understandably mutual.
Sure enough, big brother was there. Asleep. 'Okay, now I'm getting paranoid,' Joe groaned inwardly, watching the rise and fall of the blankets in his brother's bed. Joe smiled, remembering that Frank snored when he slept, albeit lightly. Quietly, he left his elder brother's room, not wanting to wake Frank and have to explain why he was suddenly so jittery. But he also couldn't help but wonder what his brother was up against and if it in any way placed him or them all in danger.