A/N: Thanks to all reviews. Please, keep them coming, they are MUCH appreciated! Let me know if I bore you.
"FRANK!!!"
Joe awoke as he did so often, screaming his brother's name, his body convulsing, sweat matting his hair, coating his skin. He pulled and pulled on his imaginary bonds, feeling tears soaking his cheeks.
"Shhh, shhh," gentle, light fingertips brushed over his wrists and hair. "Open your eyes. You're awake now.
Joe turned to his side; all he was able to do. He was so scared he could barely move. "Frank," he gasped to his almost brother beside him. "I'm…I'm sorry…"
"Shhhh," Frank murmured. "Just breathe. Relax. I'm here, you're safe."
Joe balled up on the bed, whimpering and shaking. Frank knelt on the floor and ran his transparent fingertips over his brother's gold locks.
"Same stupid dream?"
Joe nodded. "I hate sleeping…"
"Don't worry. We're gonna get this bastard out of your head and—"
"Damn it, Frank, it'll never get out of my head! It's all I ever think about! Everything I see or hear or touch brings me back to that night."
"It won't always," Frank said firmly, "I promise it won't."
"How could it not?" Joe buried his face in his pillow. "Why did it happen, Frank?"
His brother didn't answer. Instead he perched on the edge of Joe's bed. "I can't really answer that. I don't know myself."
Joe sat up slowly, wiping at his tears, embarrassed he'd shed them. "Where'd you go?" he asked suddenly.
"Go? I didn't go anywhere."
"I haven't seen you for days."
"I told you you wouldn't."
"But if you're here, why can't you tell me?"
Frank sighed. "I have told you."
"Mom and Dad didn't want me to come back."
"Can you blame them?"
"No," Joe gazed at the bandage he kept wrapped around his wrist, hiding the stitches, hiding the name. "I wish I could make them understand that I won't do this again."
"How can you do that when you haven't convinced yourself?"
The younger Hardy looked sharply at his brother. "I'm not."
"You say that, but you don't feel it yet. You want to be with me."
"Of course I do."
"Well, hurting yourself this badly won't make that happen. It'd have the opposite effect, Joe."
"You mean…" he bit his lip and swallowed, hard. "There's a hell?"
"Sorta."
"How can there be a sorta hell?"
Frank chuckled. "It's like heaven, sorta. I can't describe it really."
"You can't, or you don't know how?"
"Both, actually. Heaven's not really a place, same as hell, but it's not a state of mind or anything either. It just…is. I mean, after you die, that's it. You're free to rome. You can wander around here, or go up, or go down. It's all up to you."
"That's it? But…what are you trying to do? Be reborn?"
"Find peace. That's all. Once you do that everything else falls into place."
"Meaning?"
"I'm not sure myself. Most souls take at least a few decades to get there."
"You're not at peace, Frank?"
"I wouldn't say that," the older Hardy smiled.
Joe was suddenly overcome with curiosity; everyone on earth wondered to some degree about the afterlife, and here was his chance to actually know. At least as much as Frank would tell him.
"When you die, do you see a white light and hear voices and all that?"
Frank laughed. "Only if you're on LSD. That stuff's all made up."
"What happened to you?"
Frank sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I felt myself fading. I grew weaker and weaker, said what I had to say to you, and everything went black, and then just like that I was standing next to you. I wasn't scared or anything; I felt really calm. I sat down and put an arm around your shoulders and watched you scream and waited for Dad. And then I rode to the hospital and stayed with you while you were in shock, and when you were finally home I stepped over and spent a little time on the other side, then came back to check on you. I was just in time for my funeral."
Joe was dumbfounded. "You were there for all that?"
"I've been here for most everything, especially when I saw you going nuts on me. Why'd you wreck the van?"
Joe swallowed and looked away.
"Wanna race, punk?"
I was half-drunk when he challenged me, getting more so, still in the black suit I'd worn to the funeral, agreed, of course, wanted to feel speed, wanted to focus on something other than my dead brother, couldn't get his face out of my head, almost floored the accelerator, the pole just presented itself but stupid, stupid drunk me couldn't steer straight and hit the passenger side instead of the driver's, that's the only reason I lived Con Riley told me. Like I cared.
"Because I missed you."
"Ah, that's logic."
"You were the logical one," Joe snapped. Frank shook his head.
"I had a hell of a time climbing out of the passenger side, you know."
Joe started. "You were in the car?"
"Jesus, how many times are you gonna make me say it! I'm—"
"—always with you. I know, I know." Joe sighed. "So, what about others?"
"Others?"
"Other souls."
"Oh, I see them occasionally." Frank suddenly bit his lip, and Joe recognized the silent debate going on his brother's head. He'd seen it countless times on cases, but also when Frank knew something and wasn't sure exactly how or if he should tell his brother. "I saw Iola."
Joe's stomach sank and he seized the edge of the mattress. "Christ, that is not funny, Frank…"
"Well, it's not supposed to be funny. It's the truth. She was one of the first people I looked for."
The younger Hardy swallowed. "Can I see her?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"She broke contact with this side. She didn't want to see people grieve for her."
"Did she…"
"Yes, she asked about you. She said to forgive yourself and find love with someone on earth."
Joe's eyes burned with tears.
Did she know about Vanessa? I did find love with her. But stupid me, I couldn't handle anything after the funeral, after wrecking the van. I drove her away. She still calls sometimes…oh, who am I fooling? She must have someone by now.
"Forgive myself," Joe murmured. "Easier said than done."
Frank's face softened, and he reached out and laid his hand on his brother's shoulder, his touch so faint it could almost be imagined.
"That's where I come in."
