A/n: woah. I gotta say this took a lot out of me. I hope I managed to do the subject matter justice. Without going into detail, let's just say that the emotions that Halloran is dealing with I have personal experience with. and like Joe, it took me a decade before I could open my box. Well, they say writing is cathartic...
Chapter Seventeen
Joe stood there, mouth open. He glanced over at Mitch, who just shrugged his shoulders. "Don't look at me, I have no idea what's in the boxes. I'm just a pack mule."
Halloran was just looking confused, and struggled to contain a yawn. Joe was beginning to suspect something terrible was going on when Bruce appeared to suddenly realize the hour.
"Oh, Crap." he said with a sheepish look on his face. "I guess I just got so caught up over what I found that I didn't realize that it was so late."
"You could have called, you know." Joe pointed out mildly.
"See?!" Mitch burst out. "I told you to call first to see if it was worth driving all this way in the middle of the night, especially since we both have to be at work in like, " and he glanced at his watch. "Six hours. And it's a 2 hour drive back." Mitch glared at his husband, who ducked his head in embarrassed silence.
"It's just.." he trailed off, looking at Halloran imploringly. "You were right, about being mad at me for saying the shit I did. It wasn't appropriate at all and I shoulda known better. So when I saw what was in the boxes I just had to bring them right away, to make up for the way I acted."
"Okay, now I am completely lost!" Joe fumed. Halloran nodded her agreement as well. Joe came around and sat next to Halloran, while Mitch went the other way around the couch and stood near Bruce. Bruce reached into the box and pulled out a sheaf of papers all bundled up with twine and handed them to the confused woman. She held them awkwardly, as if she had no idea what to do with them.
"Look at them closely, Hall!" Bruce encouraged. So she undid the bow and pulled the first one off the pile. It proved to be an envelope, fat with several sheets inside. It was addressed to Melody.
"Um, what am I missing?" she asked, bewildered.
"Look at the return address!" he responded.
She did so, still not understanding what she was seeing. Joe peered over her and remarked. "Okay, so that looks familiar." When she turned to him, still clueless, he shrugged. "It looks almost exactly like the address I had in the Navy. By the zip code, I'd say Okinawa though, not Japan."
It must have been way past her bedtime because Halloran still didn't get the connection or implications and even Joe wasn't sure what was going on. "Dude. Words of one syllable or less, please." he implored his friend.
Bruce reached over and gently took the pile back, pulling the contents out of the envelope. He shuffled the papers until the last sheet in the pile was on top before passing it back over. "Look at the signature." he suggested softly.
Halloran glanced quickly to the scrawl on the bottom of the page. She gave a gasp and lost control over everything, causing the slips of paper to scatter around her. She began to cry, throwing herself into Joe's startled arms. Bruce jumped up and rushed over to sit on her other side, leaning in and putting an arm around her shaking shoulders.
"What the hell, man?!" Joe shouted angrily at Bruce as he tried to console Halloran, although he had no idea why she was in hysterics to begin with.
"I didn't think she'd react like this!" Bruce protested as he sought to calm the distraught woman down. Nothing either of them seemed to get through to her, she was was sobbing so hard she couldn't breathe. Finally, Mitch went onto the kitchen, rummaged around until he found a glass and filled it with ice and tap water before returning to the living room. He silently handed the glass to Joe, who tried to get Halloran to take a sip.
"Honey, you have to calm down" Joe pleaded with her. Eventually the hiccups forced her to stop sobbing and she finally slowed down enough to take a long deep shuddering breath. Joe whispered over her head to Mitch "End of the hallway, in the bathroom, there's a box of Kleenex." Mitch nodded and soon returned with the tissues. Joe nodded his thanks and pulled a large wad out, presenting them in a messy bunch to his girlfriend. She took them and clumsily blew her nose. Bruce and Mitch picked up the scattered slips of paper and tried to reassemble them into order.
"Sweetheart?" Joe pleaded. "Talk to me, please." he begged. But she was too far gone, emotionally drained and as a result, physically exhausted. Incoherent, all she could do was cling to Joe as if she were drowning. Finally he just gave up; any semblance of conversation would have to wait. He stood up, scooped her up into his arms and brought her into the bedroom. Without even bothering to get her out of her clothes, he just slipped off her shoes and covered her with the comforter. He left her just long enough to slip into the bathroom, returning with a glass of water and an OTC sleeping pill. "Take this." he urged her gently. "It will help calm you down and sleep. We'll talk about it tomorrow when you are calmer." He stayed with her until she succumbed to sleep, which was a matter of minutes.
Out in the living room, Bruce was pacing like a caged animal. Mitch was vainly trying to get his husband to sit down. As soon as he saw Joe, though, Bruce got even more agitated. "I swear to you I never would intentionally upset Halloran!" He pleaded, anguish evident.
Joe sighed. "I know, Pal, but she's a complete wreck anyway." the anger was still there, although it was fading. He could tell that Bruce was extremely upset at the reaction he got, so he found it hard to keep the emotion running full tilt. But he still harbored a little resentment at the fact that she did react as badly as she did. Anything that caused Halloran pain was the enemy.
He moved further into the room, and grabbed a pile of letters. Taking the same one that Halloran had earlier opened, he too went to the final page and read the signature. "Mark?!" he gasped. "As in Hall's brother Mark?!" he continued, incredulous. He then took the time to read the last few lines of the letter. "All my love?!" He looked in shock at the two men before him. "Are these love letters?!" he sat back, stunned at the revelation.
"Looks like, yeah. I only read the latest. It's postmarked about 2 weeks before he was killed."
"Well I am certainly not going to read them, that's for sure." Joe looked faintly green at the thought of doing so. He yawned, then pointedly looked at the grandfather clock in the corner of the room. Mitch immediately got the hint and stood up, zipping his coat. Bruce took a little longer, but then he too stood and offered a hand to Joe, who took it, albeit a little reluctantly. "Dude, next time, just call first. Dropping bombshells in the middle of the night is not the way to go." he reproved.
Bruce looked ashamed and cast a worried glance in the direction of the bedroom where Halloran was sleeping. "Tell her I am really sorry!" he implored before following Mitch out. Joe followed them out, locking the door behind them and setting the alarm. He decided to do nothing other than move the two boxes into a corner out of the way; the last thing he wanted for her to see them as soon as she got up on the morning. He resisted the urge to rifle through them as it was very late and he was just as tired as anyone else was.
Halloran had sprawled, taking over the entire King sized bed. Joe sighed but rather than his usual routine of crashing in one of the other bedrooms, he twisted his 6 foot tall frame into a pretzel trying to find a semi comfortable position. He had absolutely no intention whatsoever of allowing Halloran to sleep alone, not after her reaction to the letters. He didn't get much sleep that night, but it was a small price to pay.
The next morning, neither of them looked forward to getting out of bed and facing the day. Halloran looked pale and wan, whatever sleep she had gotten had not been restful. Joe ached in all the wrong places. "Wanna hide today?" he asked her softly, gently. His normal light tone full of tease was absent. She shook her head.
"No, I have some pretty important meetings today that cannot be rescheduled." Halloran refused to acknowledge the elephant in the (living) room and pointedly ignored any attempt by her fiance to engage in conversation about what had happened the night before. She went about her morning ritual as if nothing untoward had happened the night before and after a half dozen attempts to draw her out, Joe gave up.
It continued for a week. The boxes were studiously ignored and when Joe finally got fed up with them taking up space, he threw them into the garage. She never said a word. Every time he tried to get her to open up about it, she shut him down. Even innocent sounding questions about her brother were met with icy silence, or worse, a flood of tears. Joe was at his wit's end when he stormed into the into the hospital room where his brother had been forced to remain since it was decided he did need skin grafts after all on his right arm. But today he was being released, and Frank had asked Joe to come get him, as Gloria was unable to take time away from her student nurse duties.
"What's your major malfunction?!" Frank inquired mildly, slightly amused at the scowl his brother wore. He was standing up, fully dressed and trying to pack his bag one armed; his right one still being firmly bandaged and in a sling. Joe harrumphed, and semi rudely shoved his brother out of the way, zipping the bag closed fiercely and flung it over his shoulder.
"Don't ask. I don't wanna talk about it." Joe seethed. He stormed out of the room without waiting to see if Frank was following. In fact, he kept right on going and paced the parking lot, growing more and more agitated. And he positively glared daggers when Frank finally appeared, Gloria on his free arm. "What took you so long?!" he growled, pretty much ignoring Gloria, who raised an eyebrow at the uncharacteristic hostility.
"I had to sign all the release paperwork, Joe. And then Glo wanted to walk me out." Frank's tone was mildly reproving. Joe visibly sagged. His shoulders slumped and he cast an apologetic glance in Gloria's direction.
"Sorry, Guys. Been a rough week is all." he murmured as he opened the door for his brother to slide in the passenger seat. Frank took his time saying goodbye to Gloria. Without words. Ordinarily, Joe would have been making gagging noises, or snide comments or generally been rude and obnoxious, but he only sat in the driver's seat, shoulders slumped and head down. That's when Frank realized something was really upsetting his brother. He reluctantly broke off his 'goodbye' and smiled at his girlfriend apologetically.
"Will I see you later?" he asked, almost shyly.
"I get off at 6 but I have a study session scheduled with some of the gang. I'll try and stop by afterward." she promised. Not only did she know where Frank's apartment was, she had helped Laura tidy up and stock the fridge with fresh food for his arrival back after discharge. Frank smiled at her and leaned in for one last goodbye. Gloria's own smile was just a teeny bit giddy when they broke free. She leaned down and waved good bye to Joe through the open car door. She got a halfhearted wave in return. Still smiling, she turned and rushed back into the hospital as Frank slid into the car, reaching awkwardly over his body to shut the door.
"Okay, out with it, Little Brother. What's bugging you?" Frank decided to go right into Big Brother Mode.
"Said I don't wanna talk about it." Joe grumbled peevishly.
"Uh huh." Frank agreed. "So what's bugging you?" he asked again mildly. He got a dirty look. He just continued to look steadily at his sibling until Joe sighed and switched the ignition on.
"Just relationship crap is all." Joe mumbled.
"Are you two having problems?!" Frank was quite honestly flabbergasted at the thought.
"Yes. No. Hell I am not sure!" the blond brother exploded, frustration radiating off of him in waves.
"Head to the Bay." was all Frank said.
"Thought you couldn't wait to get home?" Joe looked at his brother sideways. "Something about eating real food and sleeping in a bed that you didn't have to lay sideways on to fit?" a trace of his normal humor seeped through.
"The sound of the waves help." he quoted, repeating the very same words spoken to him once before.
Joe responded by gaping at his dark haired sibling and then ruefully chuckling softly and pulling over to the lane that would lead to the correct exit. "Me and my big mouth." he sighed dramatically. Neither man spoke again until Joe had pulled into the not-quite-a-parking lot and turned the ignition off. They sat there, still in silence, for a long while. Frank patiently, Joe less so. Finally, it got to be too much and Joe burst out of the car, stalking around the front to the passenger side. He yanked the door open as he had noticed the difficulties his brother was having trying to get out.
In typical Joe Hardy fashion, though, he was restless, pacing along the giant rock parallel to the cliff's edge. He paid scant attention to his brother as he muttered darkly under his breath, occasionally waving an arm at some unseen foe. Frank watched him, amused and concerned at the same time. If anyone had the perfect relationship, excepting their parents, it was Joe and Halloran. He hoped it was just pre wedding jitters and not something more serious.
"The suspense is killing me, Joe. Do not make me drag it out of you." he threatened. "Did you two have a fight about something?"
"That's the problem, Frank, I wish we had fought!" Joe's wailed. "At least then I could apologize and make it up to her. But she's shutting me out completely!" His eyes were anguished. "She won't let me help!"
"You've lost me, Bro. Start at the very beginning." he suggested in a lilting voice that threatened to become a show tune. He had leaned against the rock; now he slid down it and fell to a seated position in the shadow of it. Joe threw himself down next to his brother and sighed loudly in frustration.
"Last week, in the middle of the night practically, Bruce came storming in with these 2 boxes. He got roped into going through Melody's stuff. Making a long story short, the boxes turned out to have a bunch of love letters. Between Melody and Mark."
"Mark?" Frank was confused, the name was vaguely familiar but he was unsure as to the context.
"Mark of the Impala. Hall's brother. The one who died." Joe reminded him.
"Oh." Suddenly Frank sat straight up in shock. "Oh!" he turned amazed eyes to his brother. "And she didn't know?"
"I have no idea. She won't discuss it at all. Bruce showed her the last one, written just before he was killed. She completely fell apart. Hysterics, hyperventilating, the whole nine yards. I had to sedate her, Frank!" Joe's voice was anguished. "But the next morning, it was like she completely blocked it from her memory. She wouldn't even admit that the boxes were in the living room!" he threw up his hands in despair. "I can't even mention either of their names. She either ignores me completely, or breaks down in tears again and locks herself in the bedroom. I am at my wit's end!" Frank's heart ached, seeing the despair in his brother's eyes.
"Maybe you shouldn't be trying to do anything at all." He suggested.
"How can you say that?" Joe was aghast at the seeming callousness. "She's going to be my wife Frank, I can't stand seeing her suffer like this!"
"Calm down, Bro, that's not what I mean." Frank hastily held up his free hand in a warding gesture. "What I should have said was, maybe you need to be asking the professionals for advice, instead of trying to fix it yourself." He cocked a head slyly. "Remember what happened last time you tried to psychoanalyze somebody?!"
Joe stared, then blushed. "Didn't turn out so great, huh?" he admitted ruefully.
"We made it through okay, but we needed help to get there." Frank conceded. "Nothing wrong with getting help."
"Guess you have a point."
"That's why you keep me around." Frank smirked. "To smack you upside the head when you need it." he pushed himself to a standing position, using the rock to brace himself even as he waved off Joe's immediate offer of assistance. Joe put his arm around his brother's shoulder and they walked back to the Impala. The drive to Frank's apartment was delayed by a side trip to the office, as he wanted to pick up some papers, drop others off and generally make sure the entire place hadn't been destroyed by Hurricane Joseph. He glared at the obnoxious amount of empty donut boxes, tut-tutted at the recycle bin full of soda cans and just sighed in resignation at the pile of crumpled papers that littered the area immediately around the waste basket. He mentally cringed as he headed towards his office, dreading the worst.
Nothing prepared him for what awaited him, though. His office was spotless. It was as if he had had only been away for the weekend as opposed to nearly three weeks. The mail was neatly piled on one side of his desk, phone memos in another neat pile. A third pile of papers awaiting his signature completed the trifecta. "Did you do any work at all?!" He groused. "Or dare I look in your office?!"
Joe pretended to be offended. "Bills are paid, checks ready to be endorsed and deposited. Three new possible cases for your approval, with a fourth I think we should politely decline. Oh, and Sam has until Monday off." He swept into the room and plopped down in one of the chairs normally reserved for clients. "And my office is just fine, thankyewverymuch." he waved a hand dismissively in the general direction of his office. Frank took the challenge and headed that way. Joe just smugly sat back and waited.
Frank had the grace to look properly abashed when he returned. "I gotta say, I am impressed, Little Brother." He sat down behind his desk, gingerly removed his arm from the sling and began endorsing checks. "If you don't have anywhere important to be, d'you mind if I take care of this now? That way you can head to the bank tomorrow first thing."
"No need to. I signed us up for online deposits. Just scan the checks, then mail 'em in." Joe looked pleased with himself. "This way I never have to enter that death trap again!" he still held out a little fear of the bank, despite the wealth it brought him in the form of the petite black haired woman who stole his soul.
"Wuss." Frank scoffed fondly as he laboriously scrawled his way through the pile. While he did that, he interrogated Joe about the new cases, and was especially interested in finding out why Joe thought they should decline the one.
"Too many stakeouts required, and not enough bodies to do 'em. You are on desk duty for at least another month, right? And no offense to Sam, but he's getting old and can't do all the leg work as well as he used to." Joe paused, looking thoughtful. "In fact, we need to think about hiring some new blood."
"I dunno, Kiddo. Bringing in new talent?" Frank was hesitant.
"What you afraid some young pup is gonna show you up , Big Brother?!" Joe laughed, his earlier melancholy firmly shut away for the moment. "You just have to choose wisely, is all. Get some star struck kid who belongs to the Hardy Boy fan club!"
Frank decided to play along. "Or maybe a cute nubile young thing who swoons every time you walk in the room and always has the coffee ready?" he teased.
"I am almost a happily married man." Joe sniffed mock haughtily. "No more looking for moi." he turned to fix a steely glare on his brother. "And for that matter, you can't either! Or else I'll tell Gloria on you!" he crossed his arms with a self satisfied smirk.
"Right. So the new secretary has to be someone about Aunt Gertrude's age." Frank continued with the game.
"Absolutely. And wrinkly. Lots of wrinkles. Maybe a mole on her cheek, too. Just to be safe." Joe agreed.
"And the new Trainee has to idolize us and pointedly ignore your faults."
"Of course. And fawn all over, begging to do all the boring scut work like stake outs and tailing cheating husbands" Joe did a double take. "Hey wait a minute. Waddya mean my faults?! You are no Perry Mason, mister."
Frank chuckled, although it was covered by a grimace as his arm protested the abuse it was being subjected to. "We'll discuss it, with Dad. Might not be a bad idea." he conceded.
"How much longer you plan on being?" Joe asked then, indicating the game was at an end for now.
"Gimme maybe twenty minutes?" he responded. "Why?"
"Think I'll make a phone call, is all. I'll be in my office." Joe smoothly stood up and left his brother to his work. Frank shook his head then bent over the slowly diminishing pile of papers that required his signature. He got about half way through when his arm decided it was done. Slowly, painfully, he flexed it, wincing as the new skin tugged and felt too tight over the muscle. Sighing deeply, he maneuvered it back into the sling, contemplating scamming Gloria into doing some extra credit worthy therapy on his arm later that evening. He stood up and left his office. Joe's door was not quite closed completely, and the unmistakable noise of the local Hard rock radio station was blaring through the laptop's speakers. He chuckled as he watched his younger brother air drum to the beat of the music, eyes closed as he sang along. He had to admit, his brother could actually sing semi decently.
"If you ever decide to quit the family Biz, Bro, you can fall back on your mad singing skills." he commented. The unexpected interruption caused Joe to jump half out of his chair in surprise, but he managed to not make a complete idiot of himself. He grinned ruefully as he closed out the website and shut down the computer. "Get that call made?"
"Yeap. Got some good advice, too." Joe responded. "Think I'll put it to good use later. You ready to get on home?" He stood up, and followed Frank into the outer room.
"Why, got a hot date?!" Frank teased. "And here I thought you loved me!"
"I love Halloran more, Pal." Joe was serious. "Sorry, Bro, you've been replaced." the smile this time was faintly regretful. "If you need me, I'll be there. Otherwise, I'm with her." He shrugged. " 'Sides, you've got Gloria now."
"True. Mom likes her, so I guess she can stick around."
"Not Mom you have to worry about. Mom loves everybody. It's Dad you need to convince she's good enough for you. As the eldest it is your responsibility to produce many sons to carry on the Family Name." Joe looked so serious that Frank barely held the laugh in until they both burst out in unison.
"You think you're off the hook?!" Frank sputtered between guffaws.
"I plan on only having girls. Every one of them as cute as me and who will wrap Grandpa Fenton around their little fingers. He doesn't stand a chance," Joe smirked as he opened the passenger side of the Impala, closing behind Frank once he got settled. After a brief discussion about dinner, Joe drove Frank home via Prito's, where Frank ordered Tony's mushroom ravioli( extra sauce) and an order of garlic bread to go. He helped Frank haul his bag from the hospital as well as dinner upstairs, pausing only long enough to make sure Frank could handle everything one armed. "What time do you want your taxi service to arrive in the morning? As long as it's after 9, that is..." Frank was under orders to not drive until the sling came off in another 2 weeks.
"Just call me when you are on your way." Frank said. He knew he'd be able to take a leisurely shower, and linger over breakfast before he had to worry about Joe showing any sign of arriving. Privately, he figured he'd have until ten minimum.
Joe laughed ruefully, knowing full well what his brother was thinking. "Later, Bro!" he skipped down the stairs and out into the warm summer night. He pulled out into the street, but instead of turning left towards home, he turned right towards Home. The house on the corner of Elm and High. He startled his mother when he breezed into the kitchen with an airy 'hello' and kiss on her flour smudged cheek. She was making pie. "Mmm Strawberry rhubarb. Yummy!" he angled for an offer to stay for dessert.
"Never you mind, young man!" she scolded with a smile. "These are for the Youth Center's bake sale!" she slapped his hand away as he tried to sneak a hulled strawberry. "What brings you here anyway?"
"Came to see if something I left in the basement is still here." Joe sat down at the kitchen table and took the small knife out of her hand and began slicing strawberries.
"Oh?" Fenton had come in, having heard his son's voice. "What might that be?"
"Just a box of stuff. I am hoping it will help me get through to Halloran."
"What do you mean, Dear?" Laura asked, with a tiny frown. Joe found himself explaining to his parents what had been going on over the past week, and then went on to mention Frank's advice, which he had taken; hence his arrival at his boyhood residence.
"I hope it helps. I hate seeing her so shut off emotionally." He shuddered lightly, and Laura leaned in to lay an arm across her son's shoulders. "Not a very nice place to be. I oughta know." He smiled wanly up at his mother before looking across the table at his father and nodding in acknowledgement of the emotion he saw in Fenton's eyes. "Anywho" he deliberately broke the mood and stood up. "It's getting late so I should get downstairs and see if I can find it."
It took him about five minutes to find the box in question, but another 20 to get to it, as in the intervening years, other boxes had been piled in front. He lugged it upstairs, marveling at the lightness of it. It had seemed so heavy ten years earlier. He took only a minute longer to say goodnight to his parents and was quickly on his way way home.
Just as he had suspected, Halloran was acting like nothing was wrong, like her best friend wasn't recently buried. She had made pot roast, and was just making the gravy when he came in and kissed her on the cheek. "Good. You are just in time to mash the potatoes." she smiled at him. No one other than Joe would have seen the pain in her eyes, quickly masked. He sighed silently, determined more than ever that he would get her to open up before the end of the night.
He waited until after dinner to spring his trap though. He even did the dishes like normal. But afterward, when she was in the living room watching TV, he sauntered in with the box. She looked at him, but said nothing, although her eyes may have narrowed just a tad.
"I want to show you something, Honey." Joe said as he ripped off the packing tape and pried back the flaps. Even though he knew exactly what was in this box, and it had been years since he last held the contents, he couldn't prevent the single tear from rolling down his cheek.
He pulled out a stack of envelopes, tied together with a bright emerald green ribbon that nearly matched the color of Halloran's eyes. "This was her favorite color," he said softly as he untied the silk and laid it across Halloran's knee. "It's how I knew you were the one, you know. When I saw you the first time in the bank. The color of your eyes." He reached out a gentle hand and tenderly stroked her cheek, ignoring the tears in his eyes.
"There aren't many, of course, we lived in the same town, went to the same school, hung out with the same crowd. Most of these are from the few summers we spent in different locations; I was never the best letter writer. And lord knows I could never be accused of being romantic. I'd more likely write about the awesome fish I caught than how much her eyes sparkled in the moonlight. But apparently that didn't matter. Iola kept every single one of 'em. Even the ones I don't remember writing. The first time I went through them I couldn't believe I was such a dork, the things I'd written?!" he laughed then, through the tears.
"And here's the thing, Babe. I couldn't bear to read them right away. It was years before I gathered the courage. I had just gotten back from Japan, and I was feeling really pressured from all sides. Frank was bugging me, Dad was trying too hard, I just had to get away. So I hid in the basement one day, and I read them. All my dreams and hopes, poured out to her. All those plans that we had that never came to fruition." He sighed then, sniffling a little. "Mrs Morton brought the box over a few months after the funeral. Said she wanted me to have them. But I couldn't, not then. It was way too soon." He reached into the box and pulled out a molten lump of metal. "I still carried these with me everywhere. A reminder. But they never let me move forward. I got stuck, hung up on what never was. What could never be. I ran away, but it did no good whatsoever."
"But when I got back, I was able to shove the feelings down just enough that I could read the letters, and weep, but not be paralyzed any more. And I found out a few things. Things about Iola that I never knew. And I was glad to have done so. Even if they broke my heart all over again."
All throughout his commentary, Halloran never said a word. She had stiffened, and once or twice looked as if she was about to bolt, but she stayed put.
"It took me a long time to gather enough courage to read them, Babe. But I never pretended they didn't exist," he chided her gently. "I would never, ever disrespect her memory like that."
"I may be the only person who truly understands what this has done to you. And I am not going to tell you to suck it up and just read the damn letters. That'd be so hypocritical it isn't funny. "I'm not even going to tell you they have to be read at all." He reached in the box yet again and pulled out a well worn diary. "I've never even opened this." He gently replaced it back in the box. "But what I am going to tell you is you can't ignore the fact that they exist at all. You have the rare opportunity here to learn something incredible about not only your best friend, but your brother." He chucked a finger under her chin, and saw that she now had tears brimming too. "It might be too soon, and I respect that. But don't lock the door and throw away the key." He leaned in and gently kissed her forehead. "I'm going to bed. Frank is bound to play slavedriver all day tomorrow, and since I have to be his chauffeur there is no way I can escape. So I need my beauty rest." He stood up and stepped around the box and up stairs.
He was already in bed and just drifting off when Halloran came upstairs. She silently brushed her teeth and changed into her usual cotton tee and baggy shorts before slipping under the covers and sliding next to him. He reflexively shifted to pull her closer and she turned, clinging to him fiercely. "You're right" she whispered.
"Of course I am right. I'm always right. It's why you love me." his voice was husky with sleep, and maybe something more.
"But I can't. Not yet.." she trailed off, sobbing. He held her close, letting her cry herself out, although he was grateful this was far less crippling than the other night.
"When you are ready, I'll be there. Promise." He assured her. And they drifted off to sleep, in each other's arms.
A/n: I am not sure I will go into any more detail about the contents of the letters than this. Like I said this was harder to write than I initially expected to be, hence the delay in posting. But I think I am close to wrapping the entire story up shortly.