Thank you all for all the love you have given this story. I hope you enjoy this chapter just as much!
It was a beautiful day and Frank was glad for it. It was like the day had been designed to show Bayport off in all its splendour, to make sure no one could deny it was a wonderful place to live. It felt like exactly what Joe needed.
It was the perfect distraction from Joe's fight with Fenton. They had made peace, seemed to be getting along remarkably well but Frank could sense something below the surface. Fenton was nervous, not keen on letting Joe out of his sight. He wondered if Fenton knew more than he was willing to admit, if the only reason he was not taking another trip to New York was because he wanted to keep an eye on Joe.
A small voice in the back of Frank's mind told him not focus on it. He could do with a day relaxing. If something happened, he could react but there was no point driving himself into the ground worrying about all the possibilities of things that could go wrong.
Frank, Joe, Callie, Iola, Chet and Biff had gone out for a hike along the cliffs of Bayport, occasionally exploring narrow paths leading down to caves along the cliff face. Joe and Callie, unused to seeing such amazing natural architecture, were mesmerised. Frank couldn't help but smile as the two, wide-eyed, took in the caves, explored the mouths.
Chet was anxious about going too far in and Frank had to agree. The last thing they needed to happen was for them to get lost of have an accident and no one realise that they had been exploring caves. If he and the others disappeared, everyone was going to assume they had been attacked by someone after Joe.
"We should come back with some proper equipment," Joe grinned as they made their way back up to the clifftop path from one particularly impressive cave.
"I don't get how you can like them so much," Chet said.
He wasn't against exploring caves but Chet liked to go in for a purpose. He didn't prescribe to the notion there was fun in exploring caves for the sake of it.
"There are all sorts of tunnels in New York," Joe said. "Best way to get about undetected, especially when you're a kid being hunted by adults."
There was an awkward silence. That happened a lot, Frank had noticed. He understood it. His friends didn't have a clue what to say when Joe so casually mentioned what might have been a terrifying or even traumatic experience for someone else. They didn't want to make it into a bigger thing than it needed to be, of course. They wanted to be able to embrace Joe, make him feel normal, like he belonged. And he did belong. He was quickly becoming one of them, quirks and trauma included. But there were times when it took their brains a few moments to clarify that what Joe was saying didn't require them to jump into action with reassurances and comfort.
"Some of the cave systems are massive," Biff said, breaking the silence. "They have trouble building over some parts of Bayport because of the caves."
"Criminals were and are always using these caves," Frank told them. "Ever since Bayport has been here, these caves have been used by smugglers. In the early 1900s, there was a murderer living in one of the caves just a little further along."
They'd reached the clifftop path and were strolling leisurely along, beautiful views of the town and the shimmering ocean on either side of them.
"Can we check it out?" Joe asked.
"So long as the killer isn't there," Callie said.
"Don't worry," Iola grinned, "no one has lived there for years. And we're pretty sure no one is haunting it."
Frank hummed his agreement.
"Should we stop to have lunch when we reach Robson's point? We could sneak into the Old Lighthouse?" Biff asked.
Chet moaned, saying that they were will a good distance from the lighthouse and maybe they could stop for lunch sooner.
"You know," Iola said, "your dad was asking-"
Suddenly the ground gave way beneath her. She screamed, groping desperately at the air as she disappeared over the cliff. All her friends lunged for her, shouting her name. They heard the terrible scream falling away, heard rocks smashing against the cliff face as they tumbled.
Frank and Joe recovered from the horrific stupor first. They rushed to the edge, peering over. Frank prepared to push Joe away from the edge so he wouldn't see their friend if the scene was too terrible. But a small voice told him Joe had probably seen worse.
"Iola!" Joe shouted. "Are you okay?"
It was a very small voice that replied but it was a voice all the same. Frank scanned the cliff face, seeing Iola had ended up on a small lip of rock jutting out. It was clearly precarious. Although she was still a good distance down the cliff face, a fall from that height would still likely kill her.
Frank pulled out his phone, preparing to call the emergency services, ordering all his friends to stay back.
"I'm coming down to help you!" Joe shouted.
Frank rushed to reach out, grab his brother's arm.
"What on Earth are you thinking? You want to make this a two-person rescue?"
Joe shook his head, pointing down the cliff face toward where Iola was.
"That bit of rock must have taken the brunt of the falling rocks. It looks like it's about to tumble at any moment. I mean look at it, I can see the cracks from here. I'm not saying Iola is going to be able to climb back up but she needs someone down there who knows how to climb to get her off that ledge and get her somewhere more stable to wait for rescue."
Frank frowned. He could see the cracks. Joe was absolutely right. Iola was on a very unstable ledge indeed. But he hated the idea of adding a second person to the dangerous situation, especially when that person was Joe.
"It should be me."
"I weigh less than you," Joe said. "I can do this. Let me do this."
It was a plea. Frank was almost startled by it, that Joe was willing to talk instead of going straight to violence in a high-pressure situation. He was glad for it.
"Okay. But you come back up if you can't find a safe route down to her."
Joe nodded, assuring Frank he would be careful. He began to climb down, a few rocks breaking loose in his hand as he lowered himself down the cliff face.
"What is he doing?" Callie demanded.
"He's going down to be with Iola," Frank said, trying to make it sound like it was no big deal.
If he started panicking, their friends were going to start panicking and the situation was going to become infinitely more dangerous. Instead, he turned to Biff, asking him to call for help.
"You wouldn't have let Joe go down there if something wasn't wrong," Chet said.
And he was right. He was absolutely right. But Frank couldn't let Chet know that his serious was in intense danger. Her falling was bad enough.
"How are you doing, Joe?" Frank shouted, peering over the cliff.
Joe was making good progress, skilfully picking his way down. Iola seemed frozen in place below him. Frank had no idea if the shock of the fall was the cause or if she had realised how precarious her ledge was.
"You doing okay, Iola?" Joe chose to shout instead.
"Emergency crews are on their way," Biff reported. "How is Joe doing?"
"He's almost there," Callie told him.
It was cold on the cliff face. Joe felt completely exposed to the elements. It felt like the weather had sensed weakness, realised how easily it could knock him and Iola into the shallow water below. Joe's hands protested more with each new handhold, rocks sparking up pain in his palms, but he forced himself to keep going.
He had no idea how long the ledge Iola was on was going to hold. He needed to get her to move.
"Joe?" Iola called. "What are you doing?"
"Coming down to check on you," Joe said.
He kept his focus on his progress down the cliff face, wishing he had somehow been able to bring Frank. He knew he had made the right call going down alone. He knew he had made the right call being the one to go down too. After all, they couldn't risk Frank's larger weight causing more rocks to fall. But Joe knew that Frank was better at comfort. He had more experience with it – both receiving it and giving it.
Still, he'd have to do the best he could.
"You doing okay?" Joe called as he came to a stop on the cliff a meter above Iola's ledge.
His eyes began to scan over the space where the ledge joined to the wall. The cracks were getting bigger. It wasn't going to hold for much longer.
"My ankle really hurts," Iola admitted.
"Do you think you can climb at all?" Joe asked.
Iola studied the wall. Then she shook her head.
"Can't I just stay here until rescue comes?"
Joe didn't want to panic her. He didn't want to point out how much of a precarious situation she was in. But he needed Iola to get off the ledge.
"They said they might be a while."
"Why?" Iola asked.
"Uh… Traffic," Joe tried, lamely.
Iola moved toward him, studying his face. Even the single unsteady step she took made the crack between the ledge and the wall grow.
"Iola, please. I need you to get off the ledge now," Joe said.
He heard rocks beginning to skitter down. It was starting to come lose.
"Joe, I really don't think I can climb," Iola said, tightly.
She was beginning to panic. Joe could tell.
"Joe, is everything alright down there?" Frank shouted from above.
Joe ignored him. He needed to focus on Iola. He would have to tell her the ledge was going to collapse. He just had to find the best way to do it, make sure she didn't spiral into panic. He gritted his teeth as he considered his options.
Back in New York, he would have been free to be as blunt as he needed to be. The kids that he interacted with knew what they were getting into when they wandered into the sort of places he frequented and the ones who were the sort to panic or freak out needed a good scare to keep them on the straight and narrow. And, yeah, he'd done what he could to shield the kids who were younger than him from the more dangerous criminal elements but he'd hardly been Father Christmas.
Bramptons didn't go around putting their necks on the line for other people.
Unfortunately, Hardys did.
"Iola, I need you to trust me," Joe said. "I am going to help you and we don't need to climb far but you need to get off that ledge, right now. It is about to collapse."
Iola's eyes darted downwards. Her breath caught.
"Joe, I…"
She trailed off, terror overcoming her.
"It's going to be okay," Joe promised. "Just come here. I'll help you climb."
He looked up, tracing his path up the cliff face, looking for a more stable ledge he could settle Iola on so she didn't have to climb far. He spotted one. It was small, still very precarious, but it looked firmly anchored into place.
"JOE?" Frank shouted from above.
"Give me a minute!" Joe yelled back.
He turned his attention back to Iola, daring to glance down at the ledge. It was about to fall. They probably only had seconds.
"Iola, I need you to move now."
She took a step. The ledge gave way. Iola screamed. Joe reached out blindly. His other hand screamed protests as Joe suddenly jerked backwards.
But his hand caught around Iola's wrist.
He felt his body take her weight. He strained to hold it.
"Grab the wall!" Joe ordered.
He wasn't going to be able to hold them both in place for longer than a few seconds. He could already feel himself slipping.
Somewhere the back of his mind, he was aware of everything going on around him, aware of the thud of rocks ricocheting off the cliff face, aware of his friends above shouting, aware of the sea seeming to open up a terrible maw beneath him and Iola, preparing to swallow them whole. His body screamed a protest at the strain of holding onto his friend.
And then the weight lessened.
Iola had anchored herself onto the wall, pale from the strain it was putting on her wounded ankle. Joe moved a few feet down the cliff face until he was level with her.
"Hey. It's okay. Me and you are going to be fine," Joe said, calmly.
"That's it! I'm going down!" they heard Frank shout from above.
"How is that going to help?" Chet wailed.
"Don't come down! We're fine!" Joe and Iola chorused.
Joe turned to Iola, a fond smile on his face.
"Big brothers, am I right?"
Iola managed a quiet laugh.
"Oh, tell me about it."
Frank felt a wave of relief pass through him as Joe appeared over the edge of the cliff. The rescue crews rushed forward to help the fourteen-year-old away from the edge, trying to usher him away to the ambulance. Joe waved them off, hurrying over to Frank.
Frank couldn't help himself. He threw his arms around his little brother.
"Don't you ever scare me like that again," he ordered.
"No promises," Joe told him even as he repaid the hug.
"Gonna have to get you a kiddie leash or something," Frank sighed.
He pulled back to study Joe's face. Shaking his head in fond exasperation, Frank let out a laugh.
"Can you explain to me what happened?" a curt voice asked, approaching the brothers.
Frank turned, frowning at the man standing before him. His name was Thomas Rhodes, the star of Bayport's coast guard. Frank could tell he had been expecting to be the hero of the story, not to arrive to find that a Hardy had already taken the glory. Callie and Biff were already shovelling well-deserved praise onto Joe while Chet watched as his sister was winched up to the cliff.
"Our reports said only one person fell over the edge," Rhodes said.
"That's right," Joe returned.
Frank winced at the tight irritation in his brother's voice. Of course, he didn't blame Joe for a second, Joe was just matching the tone Rhodes had offered him. But Frank knew that wasn't going to help. Everyone was going to say Joe was the aggressor. They wouldn't ever think that Thomas Rhodes had caused it.
"Then why did you end up over the cliff?"
"The ledge she was on was going to fall away," Joe returned. "Someone had to help her and you guys were going to be too late. You would have been too late if not for me."
Rhodes glowered. Frank moved between the two of them.
"How about we all just stay calm?" Frank said.
What Joe had done was bound to make the newspapers the next day and Frank could tell that the headline was being decided right at that moment. Was Joe going to be heralded as a hero like he deserved to be or would Rhodes goad him into doing something that will leave him painted as some ungrateful criminal?
"You Hardys always think you know best. Don't you realise civilians meddling in these sorts of things only increases the number of people who need rescuing?"
"If I hadn't gone down there, there wouldn't have been anyone to rescue!" Joe snapped back.
"Joe," Frank said, a gentle warning in his voice.
He was battling to keep calm even as he sensed the situation racing away from him. It didn't help that his body was still full of adrenaline from having to watch the daring rescue from above. But he knew him getting worked up would only make things worse.
"Please, leave it," Frank said.
Joe glowered at Rhodes. Then he drew in an unsteady breath. He nodded at Frank, turning to Biff and Callie. Then his attention was drawn to the side. He hurried to the edge of the cliff, joining Chet as Iola was let out of the harness.
"They're going to take her to hospital as a precaution," Chet said.
He gave Joe's shoulder a squeeze.
"Thank you. You saved her life."
The Hardys had a celebration for Joe. Frank would have insisted on it even if Laura hadn't firmly declared they were going to have one the moment she had heard the story. They filled the kitchen table with party foods, set up a karaoke machine in the sitting room, strung up lights in the garden for the friends to sit and talk and play games.
Iola was on crutches. Her ankle had been sprained during the fall. Chet was being the constant concerned older brother. Joe watched as Chet helped Iola navigate the party, carrying her drinks for her.
Frank, on the other hand, was acting like he was the proudest big brother on the planet. Joe had tried pointing out that it wasn't the first time he had saved someone's life but Frank had firmly informed him it didn't matter. He deserved a party.
Eventually it got too cold to hang out outside so they retreated indoors to sing karaoke.
Joe sat on the sofa, listening to Frank and Biff singing some terrible folksong Callie had picked for them. Biff had made Joe where a red cape for most of the night to make it obvious he was a superhero and Joe struggled to sit comfortably with it on. He was shuffling about in his seat when he noticed Iola had not returned from a trip to the toilet. It was the only thing she could do that wouldn't leave her brother following closely behind her.
Saying he was getting a drink from the kitchen, Joe moved off to investigate.
Joe found Iola sitting outside. She was wearing a coat that wasn't hers, sitting on a bench at the far end of the garden. Joe found himself staring at her for a second too long. She looked really pretty lit by the twinkling fairy lights above.
"I think the party's moved inside," Joe said, coming out to join her.
"I just needed a little space. Big brothers, am I right?"
"Trust me, I get it," Joe said, taking a seat next to Iola. "But it's more fun with them."
Iola was forced to nod. She glanced down at the coat she was wearing.
"This is yours, right? I couldn't find mine."
"Yeah. It's okay," Joe assured her.
He pulled his cape tightly around him like a blanket.
"I'm sorted."
Iola let out a quiet laugh and Joe found himself blushing. He looked away, staring at his house, his home.
"Thank you for saving me," Iola said.
"You've already thanked me. Not that you ever needed to."
"I need to," Iola said. "I feel so stupid now. I mean, I should have been able to notice that the ledge was about to fall but…"
Joe shook his head, saying that a person could miss some very obvious things when their life was in danger.
"And I know a lot about being in a situation that seems stable only for it to completely drop out from under you."
"Joe?"
"Yeah?"
"Can you look at me?"
Joe was torn. He wanted to look at her. She looked so pretty, prettier than normal. But he also knew he was already blushing and that was only going to intensify the longer he looked at her. Still, he knew not looking was going to be suspicious. Praying that the lightning would hide the blush on his cheeks, Joe turned to look at Iola. She gave him an unsteady smile.
"A final thank you?" she asked.
"It's got to be the last one," Joe told her.
Iola nodded. And then she pressed a chaste kiss to the corner of Joe's lips. Joe's brain short-circuited. He smelt the shampoo Iola used, watched as her eyes lit up with a mischievous glee. She caught his hand even as she pulled out of the kiss.
"Maybe it doesn't have to be the last one," Joe replied.
Iola gave his hand a squeeze.
"It was the last one."
Then she paused.
"For tonight."
I hope you enjoyed that chapter! I tried to make it fun. Please consider leaving a review.
