Joe's hands shook as he lit a cigarette, staring at himself in the mirror. He couldn't believe how much weight he'd lost without meaning to. He couldn't help it; the thought of food made him physically ill.
"He's right about your weight you know."
Joe jumped and dropped his cigarette; miraculously, Frank whisked it away.
"You shouldn't be smoking."
"Damnit Frank, quit sneaking up behind me!"
"What would you rather have me do?"
"I don't know," he sighed. "Why didn't you stick around after class the other day?"
"You didn't need me."
"Yes I did."
"No, you didn't."
"Then why'd you show up?"
"I was trying to help you calm down. I saw you freaking out during class."
Joe sighed and lay down on his bed; he couldn't seem to stop sleeping nowadays, and the confrontation with Phil had worn him out.
"Don't. Come on, let's take a walk."
"I don't want to."
"You shouldn't give in like this, Joe. You're letting the depression get to you."
"Oh well."
"Joe."
The younger Hardy sighed and balled up unhappily. "I don't see the point in doing any of it."
Frank ground out Joe's cigarette and moved silently across the room, perching beside his brother on the bed.
"Including eating?"
Joe groaned. "I know, I know, I've lost weight…"
"A lot, Joe. I mean…you look unhealthy."
"Thanks."
"I'm sorry, buddy. You do." Frank rose and held out a hand to his younger brother. "Come on. Come with me."
"No."
"Yes. We're going for a walk, and you're going to eat something."
"No."
"You're just going to lie here?"
"Yes."
"That's just great."
Joe pulled a pillow over his face.
"Leave me alone," he mumbled.
"You want me to go?"
"No!" Joe sat up quickly. "No. I just…don't make me leave, okay?"
"Well, what do you want to do instead?"
The younger Hardy thought for a moment.
"Tell me something I didn't know when you were alive."
Frank grinned. "I told you just about everything."
"Come on. There must have been something I didn't know."
"Well…Callie and I were having sex."
"Frank!" Joe turned bright red. "Something less graphic!"
"You and Vanessa didn't?"
"No!"
"Well, there's something I didn't know."
Joe groaned and turned on his back. "Be serious!"
"Oh, lighten up. I was hoping you'd smile."
The younger Hardy faked a grin. "Happy now?"
"No. All right, I'll be serious. Something you didn't know…" Frank bit his lip, thinking. "Okay. Remember two years ago when I quit the track team?"
"Sure. I bugged you about it for days."
"Well, the reason I did was because the coach had told me he wanted me to be the first cross-country runner, although I told him you wanted it. When he wouldn't give it to you I left. I didn't want us fighting.
Joe was touched. "You did that for me?"
"Sure."
"Aw, Frank…"
"Don't get all mushy on me," Frank grinned. "Your turn."
Joe thought for a minute, then suddenly became shy.
"You know…for college, the essays you have to write?"
"Sure."
"Well…the one I picked…I mean, I picked the person one. You know, write about someone whose influenced your life, and tell why?"
"Yeah."
"Well…I…I wrote about you." Joe felt his face grow hot. Frank smiled.
"What'd you write?"
Joe looked away, embarrassed. "I talked about how smart you were, and how well we worked together, and all the times you'd helped me in school, and how…how you'd always…" his voice caught, "…been there."
Frank's hand ghosted over his arm, rubbing slowly.
"Want to know something else you didn't know?" he asked softly.
Joe nodded without looking at his brother.
"My essay for Princeton? I wrote about you."
The younger Hardy looked at his brother quickly, then smiled.
"We were one hell of a team," he said softly.
The vision of Frank blurred; at first Joe thought he was fading and reached for him, then he realized his eyes were filled with tears.
The elder Hardy squeezed his brother's hands in his own cold transparent ones.
"We still are."
