Here it is. I hope you like it.

Chapter Two

"Baby, Frank's dead." The words seemed to echo endlessly throughout the dark house. Frank's dead…dead…dead… Joe closed his eyes. "Listen Mom, I'm kind of tired, will you please not joke right now." Laura Hardy stared at her youngest son, shocked. Joke? He believed she was joking? He couldn't honestly think this was her idea of a practical joke. Mrs. Hardy said nothing, tears running in steady streams down her cheeks.

"You're lying," Joe declared, staring hard at his mother's face, searching for something that was not there. "How could you lie about something like that?" He saw his mother shrink back, hurt, but he didn't care. He hated her - hated her for even imagining a scenario so vile.

"Mrs. Hardy," the officer said gently. "We need an identification first, ma'am. It could be possible the boy we found is not Frank." It was false hope, Laura knew, but she held onto it anyways.

Forcing a small smile she said, "Yes. It could be a mix-up." She looked up pleadingly at her youngest son. "Will you come with me, Joe? Please…" The young man looked away, staring at a family photo taken half a year ago. Watching, waiting, he considered going. Maybe there had been a mistake. Of course, this was all one big misunderstanding. When Frank heard about this they'd laugh, and could forget tonight ever happened.

"Okay, Mom. Let's go."

"Thank-you sweetie. Thank-you." With Fenton away, Joe was all she had…and possibly the only child she had left…

OhBrotherWhereArtThou

The drive to the hospital was long and foreboding. The dreadful silence that had engulfed the house traveled with them, hanging heavily in the air. Laura Hardy sat in the passenger seat beside the officer, James Barlow, with Joe in the backseat, staring hopelessly out the window. The street lights, the houses, they all seemed different somehow. It was a strange feeling, driving down the familiar streets, past familiar houses where people slept soundly unaware of this tragedy. His entire world had shaken, and theirs was exactly the same.

Pushing through the doors to the lobby, Joe was distressed by the numerous officers and EMTs. What was going on? Why were so many 911 responders here? He swallowed the lump in his throat, hoping they had nothing to do with Frank, oh how he hoped.

A group consisting of three cops, two paramedics, and a doctor stood to the side, talking quietly. Officer Barlow headed straight for them.

"Laura and Joseph Hardy," he announced, ending all conversation. All eyes turned, their gazes burning holes into Joe's skin.

"What happened?" Laura demanded. "Where's my son?"

"Ma'am," an older officer spoke gently. Oh no, Joe thought, he's using that tone of voice. The one that tells you you've woken up to a nightmare; evil and horrific. "Ma'am, maybe you should sit down."

"Damn it, I don't want to sit down! I want to know what happened!"

The officer sighed, "Mrs. Hardy, this is Doctor Lena Stuart. If you would please follow her, she'll take you downstairs, and if you make a positive identification we'll discuss what happened." Laura nodded and followed Dr. Stuart, and Officer Barlow. Joe wrapped a protective arm around his mother's shoulders, and kissed her lightly on the head. He wanted her to know that he was here with her, ready to face whatever path lay before them.

A person had only three options for descending to the under-ground level: the laundry room, equipment storage, and the morgue. The basement was like something from a movie, cool and dimly lit, overhead lights flickering every now and again. Nothing but silence. The air stale. "Death lives here," it said.

Dr. Stuart paused in front of a heavy metal door. "I must warn you, Frank was banged up pretty bad." She looked directly at Joe. "It will be pretty hard to handle. We only need one person to make the ID."

"I can manage it," he replied. "I can." Dr. Stuart nodded, but she didn't believe him.

The morgue was like something out of a movie. Windowless, gray, and cold, metal cabinets lined the wall. Dr. Stuart moved like a ghost, floating on air, to the far left. Slowly, she pulled open what could only be described as a drawer. The form of a body was obvious under the white sheet. Why do they always have to be white? Joe thought. Frank's favorite color is blue. What can't it be a blue sheet?

The doctor pulled back the sheet gently, as though the corpse below would be disturbed if she yanked it off. She pulled it back, farther, and farther until the face was visible.

A gasp escaped Joe's lips. "God, no! Please God, NO!" Laura cried, falling to her knees. The pale features and staring lifeless brown eyes belonged to none other than the handsome Franklin Hardy.

All hope was lost.

I know it's rather short, but I figured I'd better post something soon. =)

If you review, please be kind.

BCA