Hello everyone! Thank you so much for all the wonderful reviews you gave the last chapter. I really hope you enjoy this chapter. It doesn't exactly go the way I had planned but I think it covers some important pieces of Joe's progress.

"Both sound asleep," Laura declared as she entered the sitting room.

Her husband was sitting in his favourite armchair, staring at a framed photograph of his sister and his sons. His sister had never been one for being photographed, she much preferred to be the one taking the picture. It meant photographs of her with Joe had been very hard to get hold of and Fenton had been sure to get one framed for sitting on the sitting room shelves.

"Good. Things will be smoother the better rested the boys are."

The time had come. The next day would be Gertrude Hardy's first visit to her brother and his family since Joe's return. It would be her first time seeing her nephew in ten years. Fenton prayed Joe was ready. Like so many things with the fourteen-year-old, it felt like they were edging over a tightrope. They didn't want to force him into things before he was ready but they were constantly aware of the danger of leaving things too long and allowing Joe to build them up into a big, terrifying event to be feared and avoided.

They both desperately hoped they had struck the right balance, having Gertrude come over for a day but stay in a hotel in town so she could visit if things went well and spend time elsewhere if Joe found the experience too stressful.

Laura settled beside her husband, studying his face.

"I'm glad you came back for this. It wouldn't be the first time you've left me to play host to your sister."

There was too much fondness in the way Laura spoke about Gertrude for Fenton to mistake her intentions. Laura never minded too much when one of her husband's cases took him out of town while his sister was visiting. What she did mind was her husband darting off across the country with very little explanation when his family so dearly needed him near.

"There's a situation," Fenton told her. "In New York."

"Joe?"

That was all that needed to be asked. Fenton nodded reluctantly. He studied his wife.

"We both knew he would have enemies there when we took him back in. We knew something like this would happen eventually," he pointed out.

And they had been doing all they could to make plans. But there really hadn't been the time given that they desperately needed to get Joe to settle into life in Bayport.

"I thought we would have more time," Laura admitted.

Fenton told her he felt the same way. He met his wife's gaze.

"I am going to fix it," he assured her. "No one is taking our little boy from us again. All we need to think about right now is ensuring things go smoothly tomorrow."

"It's going to be okay," Frank found himself saying for what was probably the hundredth time that day.

He felt like all he was doing was chanting that over and over. And he wasn't even sure it was for his brother's benefit. He desperately wanted things to go well between Joe and their aunt. Aunt Gertrude had been such a large part of their lives when Joe had been missing. Frank was not sure if his parents would have been able to keep going if not for his aunt.

"It'll all be fine," Frank said again.

He looked across the room to where Joe was sitting. Fenton and Laura had elected to be the ones to pick Fenton's sister up at the train station, suggesting the boys stay behind. Frank guessed their reasoning behind it had been twofold. One was that Joe didn't have to be reintroduced to his aunt in public so he didn't have to think about anyone watching him. And the other was that it gave them a chance to talk to Gertrude beforehand, give her a final reminder about the things she should and shouldn't do when interacting with Joe.

"It will all be-"

"Fine?" Joe interrupted.

He sent Frank a smirk.

To the untrained eye, Joe didn't look nervous at all. He was sitting in the armchair on his phone, face expressive and relaxed. But Frank could see the things most people missed. Joe had picked that chair because it gave him a view of the front windows and allowed him to see the door. He would be the first to know when their family car pulled into the driveway, first to see their parents and aunt entering. He looked prepared to move too, ready to run at any second.

"You know, the more you say it, the less convincing you sound," Joe pointed out.

Frank grimaced at him but apologised.

"I just… I'm worried you are going to interpret her… Quirks as her not liking you."

Joe raised an eyebrow. He had been warned again and again that Gertrude could be a little peppery, that she wasn't afraid to voice her opinion. He was told to pay it no attention, that even if she made it seem like there was something different about him, it was just because that was how she acted.

"She was devastated when you were taken," Frank reminded Joe.

"Her and apparently half of Bayport," Joe said. "This isn't a big thing. Stop trying to make it into one."

Frank saw through that in an instant. It was a very big thing. Gertrude was a member of his family, one of the people with whom he shared a last name, and a last name that had been taken from him. Frank had so many memories of doing things with his aunt that Joe would never get to have. He wouldn't remember the Christmas they had crowded into his aunt's house and for the only time in her life Gertrude had burnt a meal and they had been forced to eat a variety of snacks and cakes because they couldn't find anywhere to buy food. He wouldn't remember being taken to an aquarium by his parents and aunt and his parents saying he could have exactly one toy but then his aunt bought him the second thing he really wanted anyway.

Joe finally had an opportunity to start making those memories with his aunt. Them meeting, them getting along was a big thing. And Frank guessed Joe was probably feeling that pressure.

"You know, whether you and Aunt Gertrude get along, you're still stuck with us, right? You're still going to be a part of this family," Frank assured him.

Joe caught his eye, doing to respond. But then there was the sound of keys in the front door. Joe's eyes widened as he looked toward the door.

"Deep breaths," Frank told him. "You are going to do great."

The front door opened. Laura was leading the way. She sent a glance toward Joe, able to catch his eye from the hallway. She offered him a small, reassuring smile. And then she stepped to the side.

Joe recognised his aunt from all the photographs he had been shown of her. She was a tall woman of slim build with long black hair. She had steel-rimmed glasses perched upon her nose, the matching dark, intelligent eyes of her brother shining out from behind them. Her gaze immediately fell onto Joe.

Joe stood. Frank followed, preparing to give chase if Joe decided to bolt. But Joe stayed still, watching as Gertrude hung up her coat and came into the room. Fenton and Laura hung close, looking for any signs of distress in their son.

"You've certainly grown since I last saw you," Gertrude remarked.

"It's been ten years," Joe replied guardedly.

"You look so much like your mother," his aunt continued.

She reached out, going to put a hand on his shoulder. Joe scowled, stepping back. Frank watched Gertrude's reaction closely even as Fenton told his sister that Joe didn't always appreciate physical contact.

"I suppose he wouldn't. That Marsden brute is getting far too little time if you ask me. He should be looking at life in prison and then some. If you leave me in a room with him for just five minutes, I'd give him a piece of my mind. Have him confessing to crimes that he didn't…"

She was stopped abruptly when Joe shoved past her and raced out of the front door. The four remaining Hardys froze. They glanced between each other, trying to understand what had happened.

"I'll go after him," Frank offered, sprinting after his brother.

Joe didn't run far. He had slowed to a walk halfway down the street, stopped dead by the time he reached the junction. In New York, he would have known exactly where to run. He would have had people who he could have gone to. But in Bayport… Everyone would call the Hardys to tell them he was there and Joe wasn't sure if he wanted to face them.

But he also wasn't sure he wanted to be anywhere else.

He heard running feet, turning to see Frank sprinting down the road toward him. He prepared to run, sure he was about to be tackled. But Frank slowed down. He was several metres from Joe when he stopped running and started walking toward him.

"I was worried I wouldn't be able to catch you."

But he hadn't tackled him. He hadn't grabbed him. He wasn't even reaching out to be ready in case Joe did decide to run. He was just desperately hoping Joe would be willing to talk.

Joe felt tears forming in his eyes.

"I am so messed up," Joe managed.

"No, you're not. You're-"

"I am!" Joe snapped back. "That woman in there has been nothing but nice to me and patient and willing to put up with so much and then she talks about Marsden and all I can think about is 'how dare you?'! 'How dare you talk about him like that?'! He was going to let you kill me and I still can't stop myself from thinking he's more of my family than…"

Joe had pointed off toward the Hardy house. He seemed to catch himself, holding in the words he had been about to say.

"Aunt Gertrude," was the way he limply finished his sentence.

Joe moved to the edge of the path and took a seat on the ground. He wiped away his tears.

"It feels like Joe Hardy and Joe Brampton aren't the same person. It's like I have two sets of memories. Because there are all the good memories. There's Marsden being my… My father. Him teaching me so much, taking me out to places, introducing me to people like I was his kid, like I mattered to him. And then there are the Joe Hardy memories, the memories that people are meant to have when they think about men that kidnapped them. How he… The things he did. The things you saw him do."

Joe sniffled and Frank was reminded of just how young his brother was, how young they both were. So many children Joe's age had never had to see death, never had to fight for their lives. The things that Joe had been through should never have happened.

"There was one time Marsden wanted a meeting with this… This guy. He ran a gang. And he had made it very clear he hated me and that he wanted me brought to him so he could kill me. I begged Marsden not to make me go. He terrified me and I was sure I wasn't going to make it out alive. But Marsden insisted. Said that he would drag me there and leave me if I didn't go willingly, that he didn't want a coward working for me. So I went. And I was terrified and the guy made threats. And then Marsden took me to a posh restaurant and said that if I was going to take over from him, I needed to learn to face men making idle threats. I felt… I forgot about how scared I had been, how much I had begged him not to put me in that danger because he took me out for a meal and treated me like I was his son! And stupid things like that are the reason I can't get myself to think of them as my family but I think of that psychopath as my dad."

Them. Joe had said them. He wasn't just talking about their aunt. He was talking about their parents. Frank stared and slowly he remembered all the times Joe had spoken about their parents out of their earshot. He had called them Mr and Mrs Hardy. Almost without fail. He didn't call them Mom and Dad unless they could hear.

Frank told himself he needed to address one issue at a time. He needed to focus on whether or not Joe was going to be able to face their aunt that day. He still had tears rolling down his cheeks, his face red and agitated.

"I think… I think trying to force yourself to view them as family will… It'll make you feel like it's an obligation. You'll feel like being Joe Hardy is a chore and no one wants that. So maybe… Maybe what you need to do is stop trying to view them as your family."

Joe was looking at him like he was insane.

"See them as friends. Treat us like friends. And then maybe, the feelings will come later. After all, a lot of people talk about how their friends have become their family. And becoming a family doesn't happen immediately. You need time, time to process your past and time for you to get to know us."

"Do I tell them? That we're not family, we're just friends?" Joe asked.

Frank felt a wave of relief pass through him at the fact Joe was so willing to try and find a way to keep pushing forward in their relationship.

"You don't have to if you don't want to," Frank told him.

"Then I don't want to," Joe said. "Not… not right now."

Frank nodded his understanding.

Fenton was just pulling on his jacket to go out looking for his boys when the front door opened. Frank and Joe stood there. Silently they moved into the house. Joe had clearly been crying. Fenton glanced toward Frank, trying to read from his son's face if he should acknowledge what was so evident. One look at Frank told him that the older boy didn't think Joe would appreciate his tears being pointed out.

"Nice to see you boys again. Gertrude's still in the sitting room if you want to try this again, Joe, but she says she will understand if you need more time."

Joe shook his head.

"I want to try again," he said.

He paused and then in a small voice asked if Fenton had any tissues.

Fenton frowned, patting his pockets as he reached around for a tissue box.

"Look inside my purse," Gertrude's voice came through from the other room.

Joe did as he was told. He opened up the bag and found a travel pack of tissues slotted into a side pocket. He pulled one out, thanking his aunt as he walked into the room.

"Hey," Laura greeted, patting the seat beside her.

Joe sat at her side, letting her pull him into a loose hug.

"You okay?" she asked, quietly.

"I'm… here," Joe said. "And I want to try this again."

Fenton had suggested a board game to relieve the tension and it had gone down well. The group had played with Joe and Frank on one team and the adults having to face the game alone.

And then came time for the meal Laura had prepared. She called them into the kitchen, Joe moving into his seat immediately while Frank went to wash his hands. It was something Gertrude picked up on as she helped Laura finish laying the food out on the table. Frank was just taking his seat when his aunt's eyes fixed onto Joe.

"You aren't in New York anymore, young man," Gertrude said sharply. "This isn't some den of criminals and you are expected to wash your hands before you eat."

All eyes flew onto Gertrude. Horrified expressions were aimed at her. Laura scowled.

"We don't ask the boys to wash their hands before they eat anymore," Laura told Gertrude firmly. "Not unless they have been doing something messy. And I would appreciate it if…"

She trailed off at the sound of a chair scraping. Joe quietly moved through the room. Frank was all but prepared to hear the front door opening and closing as Joe made his way out into the hallway. Instead, they heard the bathroom door open, the tap being run and hands being washed. Gertrude had a very triumphant look on her face as Joe made his way back into the dining room and slipped into his seat.

All eyes landed on Joe, trying to work out what he was going to do. Joe just looked down at his plate expectantly.

"Well, then," Fenton began awkwardly, desperately wanting to move the evening on. "Shall we eat?"

"No," Joe said.

"No?" Laura frowned.

"A growing boy not wanting food?" Gertrude tutted.

"Oh no," Joe said, holding his aunt's gaze. "The growing boys are going to eat because me and Frank are the only ones at this table who have washed our hands. Isn't that right, Frank?"

Dumfounded, Frank spluttered for a few seconds. He tried to work out which side he should be on. It appeared to him that Joe was purposefully trying to tease their aunt but he couldn't help but think that Gertrude might have been a little heavy-handed in addressing Joe. She had made it sound like what had happened to him was his fault, that he didn't have the manners to be accepted by their family.

"It's absolutely right," Frank agreed.

"This isn't some den of criminals after all," Joe said.

And to make his point he took a big mouthful of his dinner. Laura had to bite her lip to hold back her laughter. Fenton was hiding a grin behind his hand. Gertrude paused, studying Joe. And then she smirked.

"Oh, no denying you're a Hardy with wit like that," Gertrude said, fondly.

She got up and washed her hands, taking her seat at the table once more. Then her and Joe sent Fenton and Laura expectant looks.

"I think it's your turn," they chorused.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please consider leaving me a review.