When it all Goes Wrong Chapter 19: Living With Death, a hardy boys/nancy drew fanfic

Chapter 19

Dedicated to God and Fluffykitty12

POV Frank

I am surrounded by fire. I lie on the wooden floor…too weak to move. The flames are inches away. I feel their heat. I close my eyes. I am going to burn to death.

Someone drags me to my feet. Joe. He struggles to pull me to the window.

Through the smoke, Joe leans me and him against the wall.

"I'll see you in five," Joe says.

I try to grab Joe … to make him jump with me. But I miss.

I land in a life net. The building explodes. Joe is dead.

"NO!" I shout.

"Easy Frank, it's just a dream," Sam says.

But the truth is, my nightmare happened. Joe died saving my life.

I open my eyes. Sam sits by my bed typing on his computer.

"Do you want to read Joe's obituary?" Sam asks. He hands me his computer.

Joseph Paul Hardy, 26, died suddenly last night. He is survived by an older brother (Frank), and his father (Fenton).

He earned a bachelor's degree in criminal justice from New York University. Joseph was the team captain of the college basketball team. He enjoyed sports, outdoors, his family and living life to the fullest.

I swallow hard and hand the computer back to Sam.

The truth is no way can Joe be reduced to a few paragraphs. It's as impossible as living without Joe.

"Any ideas for memorials?" Sam asks. "I don't think Joe would want flowers."

"Iola Morton Scholarship Fund or the Youth At Risk Mentoring Program," I whisper.

"Thanks," Sam says. "I've got coffee and Tylenol for you. What do you want for breakfast?"

I close my eyes. I don't have the energy. Sam is back in five minutes with a breakfast tray.

"Tell you what, you eat something and take the Tylenol," Sam says. "And I'll tell you something you don't know about Joe."

Curious, I swallow the pills with some water. I force myself to take a bite of toast.

"You and your dad were out of town working on the Petersen case," Sam says.

I nod. A kidnapping. We rescued the Thomas, the 16-year-old victim. His kidnappers were his teacher and his uncle. Both are serving are a long prison term.

"I knew something weird was going on when Joe knocked on my door," Sam says.

I understand. Joe never knocked. He was always too excited to knock. Joe's habit drove Dad crazy. But Dad never broke Joe of barging into offices. Once Joe caught me kissing Callie – before we broke up. Joe turned red and promised he'd knock next time. He didn't.

I force myself to take another bite of toast.

"Anyway he knocked," Sam says. "And he shut the door behind him and sat down."

I smile. Joe never sat or rested anywhere. He was in constant motion. Foot tapping, finger pounding motion. Joe was only still when he slept. Usually he paced in the office. Or he would sit on the corner of my desk, but never a chair. Joe had too much energy.

"He wasn't acting like Joe. Then he slid an envelope across my desk," Sam says.

Sam swallows hard and closes his eyes.

I wait wondering what happened. Usually Sam is pretty stoic, but whatever Joe did shook Sam up.

"He said, "When something happens to me, give this to Frank,'" Sam whispers. "Then he left. I put the letter in my wallet and tried to forget about it."

I swallow hard. After Iola died I was terrified Joe would give up. That I'd got a call one night that Joe was dead.

"Do you have the letter?" Sam asks.

"Wallet," I whisper.

Sam grabs my wallet off my dresser. He hands it to me. I take out Joe's letter.

Just seeing my name written in Joe's messy handwriting makes me smile.

I have a small piece of Joe left.

"By the way, I made an appointment with Dr. Welch for Monday," Sam says.

I dragged Joe to Dr. Welch after Iola died for grief counseling. Now Sam is returning the favor. No way can I talk to anyone about what I'm feeling.

"Dad?" I whisper.

"No word," Sam says. "But I know he won't miss Joe's funeral."

I have to believe Dad will be back in time. Because now more than ever, I need Dad. I'm mad at him for pulling me out of the building, but I need him.

The doorbell rings. Sam goes downstairs to answer it.

I unfold Joe's letter.

Frank,

When Iola died, there were so many things I wanted to tell her. And my chance was gone. I promised that would never happen to us. Bro, you need to know this wasn't your fault.

Yeah, I know how your mind works. You've got a million reasons to blame yourself. You are replaying everything in your head and figuring what you could have done differently.

I know cuz I did the same thing when Iola died. Almost drove myself crazy. I'm asking you not to do that, for me.

Can I do that for Joe? I doubt it. All I've done is replay Joe's death in my mind. What I could have done differently. I swallow hard and keep reading.

Sometimes we have to make split second decisions. You let it go because you did the best you could. And Frank, you did the best you could.

Joe doesn't know. I could have done more. Why didn't I leave him in the car? It's almost like I feel Joe dragging me back to the letter.

Truth is, you already saved my life. When Iola died, I was in a dark place. I wouldn't have ended my life. But I did risky things. Things so risky I didn't know if I'd make it back alive. And you knew that.

I swallow hard remembering …

Desperate to get Joe out after Iola died, I made Joe choose a movie to see. He dragged me to some awful science fiction film. I've blocked out the name, but I do remember how a mugger grabbed a woman's purse.

Dad drilled into us to always have backup, but Joe took off after the mugger like a greyhound. I could barely keep them in sight. Joe chased him right up to Barmet Bay. The guy dropped the purse on the dock and dove into the bay…in November.

Joe dove in after the guy.

Jumping in the bay was suicide. The water was freezing. I figured Joe had less than five minutes before hypothermia set in. Joe swam to the perp, grabbed him under his arm and started swimming. I don't think the perp would have made it out of the water alive if Joe hadn't dove in after him. I stood on the dock until Joe swam close enough for me to grab the perp.

I dumped the perp on the dock. When I turned back, Joe was gone. I knew his arms and legs must have been too numb to keep swimming.

I dove in the water. But I couldn't find Joe. The waves were dragging me out to sea. One of the few times in my life I prayed. I promised God anything if He let me find Joe.

Five yards away I saw my unconscious brother.

With a prayer on my lips, I swam to him – fighting the waves and the current.

When I reached Joe, my arms and legs were numb. I could barely move them. We were dead in the water. But I wouldn't leave Joe behind. Even then I knew the pain of Joe dying would be unbearable.

Joe and I were sinking when I felt someone grab me. Con had commandeered a motorboat.

"Joe first," I muttered.

Con grabbed Joe. Then he pulled me onboard the boat.

"How did you find us?" I asked through chattering teeth.

"Someone called from the restaurant on the pier. They saw someone jump in the bay," Con said.

"Joe ok?" I asked.

"He's breathing on his own," Con said. He covered us with his coat.

Two ambulances met us at the dock.

"You went after him for a purse?" Con asked.

I didn't say anything. Too busy shivering.

One ambulance drove the perp to the hospital. Another ambulance drove Joe and me to the hospital.

At the hospital we got IVs of warm fluid and we were wrapped in electric blankets.

Joe had just regained consciousness when Dad arrived.

"Are you ok?" Dad asked.

I nodded. Joe was too groggy to respond.

"YOU JUMPED IN BARMET BAY FOR A MUGGER? DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW STUPID THAT WAS?" Dad yelled.

"Excuse me, sir," a nurse said. "You'll have to be quiet or leave."

"I understand," Dad said.

"Who wants to explain this to me?" Dad asked.

"My fault," Joe said in a shaky voice.

Dad didn't say a thing. He just left the hospital room. But his disappointment spoke volumes.

We got released the next day. Sam dropped us off at my condo.

I had expected Dad to pick us up. And to tell Joe he needed to stop taking chances.

Since then Dad told me he was scared. Scared if he said anything to Joe, my brother would just disappear and we'd never see him again.

But then I didn't know why Dad had pulled a disappearing act. I was angry at Dad … angry at Joe …. angry at life.

I have Dad's temper …. Same as Joe….I just don't let it out much. That day it came out in full force.

When the condo front door shut, I grabbed Joe and slammed him against the wall.

"You want to explain jumping into the bay?" I asked through grit teeth.

"I didn't want the guy to get away," Joe said.

"Do you know how I felt when I couldn't find you in the water?" I whispered.

Joe looked away.

"I will have nightmares about that for years," I said.

"Sorry," Joe whispered.

"You are going to counseling," I said.

"Come on Frank, I made one bad call," Joe said.

"No. You've been making bad calls taking ever since Iola died," I said.

I had to call him on it. Scared if I didn't Joe would get himself killed.

Joe didn't say anything.

"Joe, we almost died," I whispered.

Joe turned pale.

"OK, I'll go," Joe whispered. "We don't have to work together…I'll take a break from the agency."

Exactly what I didn't want. Joe with time on his hands in his current state of mind was no good. What if he decided to just leave?

"No, all I want is for you to take fewer chances, deal?" I asked.

"Deal," Joe said.

I got Joe into counseling the next day.

POV JOE

Everything hurts. I'm covered with a blanket that smells like oil and gasoline. My body shakes beneath it.

"I get my money now or you don't leave this place alive," someone says.

I struggle to focus. A big guy is holding a knife on Griff. Griff is backed into a corner.

I can't get up. Too weak. But I roll myself into the big guy's feet. He lands on top of me. I yell as his knife cuts my hand.

Suddenly the big guy is gone.

I squint. A blurry Griff holds the big guy against the wall with the knife against his throat.

"You ever come back here, I'll kill you," Griff says.

The big guy leaves.

Griff is on his knees next to me. He wraps my bleeding hand in a towel.

"I owe you one," Griff says.

"Brothers," I whisper before darkness takes over.

I see myself pushing a dark haired guy out a window. Did I kill someone?