"Life is pain; anyone who says differently is selling something." The Princess Bride

Frank smiled at Cathy, putting out a hand so she could lace her fingers between his. They were in the parking lot of the movie theater, but he was seriously considering not seeing a movie. Being with Cathy was all the entertainment he needed. Of course, it would be better if they had the Hardy's van and not Cathy's tiny car, but the van was at home in case Joe wanted to use it, though he wasn't technically supposed to drive until he passed the test again. Something about putting cripples at the wheel…

"Just give me one second, Cath. I need to see where Joe is." The incident last month had given Frank a scare, and he wasn't willing to let the whole thing happen again when he was in charge.

He could still remember driving home along his usual route, which took him through a slightly seedier section of town. It brought back memories of his and Joe's detective days, when they'd scour these streets for hardened criminals. Now, he was just trying to get home.

A man stumbled out of a side alley, one leg collapsing under him, his face and neck bloody. Frank braked hard, trying not to hit the man. He leaned his head out, his heart quickening before dying in his chest as he saw achingly familiar blond hair. "Joe?" He called, wiggling the door open and running to his brother. "What're you doing here?" He'd offered to give his brother a drive home after school, of course, but Joe said he was meeting up with Biff and Chet.

"Sorry, Frank." Joe gasped. He wasn't hurt terribly badly, and though the cuts on his face were bleeding hard, Frank knew this is what to expect from a head wound. "Should have…waited." He tried to stand, then collapsed again, cursing.

"They kick you?" Frank asked, looking around for any sign of the people who had done this. He only saw an old man pushing a grocery cart. He yanked Joe's pant leg up, rougher than he meant to, which made Joe gasp in pain and reflexively grab for his leg. "Sorry, bro. Let me see…"

Joe's leg, which had been operated on to get the bullet out, had been left remarkably intact following the incident, with little outward signs of the weakened muscle it housed. Long, red stripes ran from mid-calf to mid-thigh, but the doctors promised these would fade in time. Now, though, the entire appendage was black and blue. "You aren't standing, Little Buddy. Can you put your arm around me?" While in the hospital and during Post-Op, Joe had lost a staggering amount of weight. Frank knew that he could carry his brother if he had to, but it would just embarrass Joe, who had to put up with enough demeaning situations as it was.

Biting his lip, Joe nodded and looped his arm around Frank's neck, pushing himself up with his left leg, face contorted with pain. As always, when Frank touched him now, he was sure that his little brother would break at one wrong move. Weight loss had pushed out collar and cheek bones, giving Joe a delicate frame, though the boy was working hard to put on muscle.

"Just a few steps…" Frank murmured, then said, even quieter, knowing that too much pressure would just make Joe cave back in on himself. "Who did this, Joe?" It was probably no one he knew. It was probably a street gang who had seen a slightly smaller teen and decided he was an easy target. But they could always press charges, however futile.

Joe sighed. He'd been doing that a lot after the accident. "I could have taken them before, Frank. I know I could have."

And that statement, said so quietly, resignedly, was the reason why Frank had to call Joe as he got into the car with Cathy. He just had to make sure. When he grabbed for his phone, though, Cathy already had it in her hand.

"C'mon, Frank. He's a big boy. You'll be back at the house in a couple of hours." She flipped the tiny phone in her hand.

Frank's eyebrows came together at that. He thought Cathy had understood his need to protect his baby brother. "I just want to check up on him. He's probably not even home, anyway." Though Joe had spent more and more nights around the house, reading, he still enjoyed the company of his best friend, Biff, and the two spent most evenings together.

Cathy's eyes flashed with something Frank hadn't seen there before. Anger, maybe, or jealousy. Then a loving look came to them and she touched Frank's arm, making it warm. Making him warm. God, he loved her. More than anyone before, even Callie. "Why don't you go inside and get the tickets? I'll call Joe."

She smiled at him, and Frank's reservations gave way. He got out of the car, poking his head back in a second later. "Ask him if he wants to see the movie." Frank said, thinking that his brother would like this particular flick, a remake of a musical they'd seen often as children. Cathy waved, indicating that she'd heard him, and he went inside to get the tickets.

At home, Joe was getting his ass served to him by Biff in chess. He was never very good at the game and rarely won, though he did love to play. Some of his strategies were brilliant, though too involved or risky to win. When the phone rang, Joe reached for it, still contemplating the board.

"Hey, Frank. How's the date with your vampire?" Joe had always referred to his brother's various girlfriends by the names of the undead, though it was only with Cathy that he was serious.

The voice on the other end of the line wasn't Frank's, though. It was low, somewhere between a hiss and a snarl. "Frank told me to call you. He must think you're too pathetic to help yourself."

Biff's bishop stole Joe's rook and he sighed, though his frustration was mostly directed at the girl on the other end of the line. If Biff hadn't been sitting in the room, he would have given the girl a piece of his mind. As it was… "So, are you and Frank having a nice time, Dracula?" He asked pleasantly as he moved his pawn only to let Biff sneak in to steal his other rook.

"He invited you to a movie, you worthless cripple, but if you show up here, I'll make your life a living Hell."

"Oh, you've done too much already." Joe assured her, watching as the game crumbled before his eyes. Biff had only two moves to make before the inevitable came.

"Checkmate." Biff said, happily cornering his King.

"Whore." Cathy hissed, and hung up, leaving Joe to use the phone to knock over his king.

"Great game, Biff." He reached up to run his hand through his hair and winced. He'd forgotten that Cathy had slammed it into the door the night before. It wasn't broken, but it was still twice the size of his other hand, black, blue, and disgusting-looking.

Biff also eyed his hand, though he wore a smirk on his face. "I can't believe you slammed the hood on it. That's, like, in car guide for dummies, page one."

"Yeah." Joe muttered, still distracted by Cathy's call. Sticks and stones, but still…he'd never not gotten alone with one of Frank's girlfriends. Not like this.

"Hey, you okay man?" Biff was second only to Frank in the mother-hen department. Though they'd always been close, the two had become inseparable, especially at school, following Joe's accident. Biff, three inches taller and, now, almost a hundred pounds heavier, provided ample protection for the jerks so eager to take one of the great Hardy brothers down a peg.

In the living room, Biff swept the remaining pieces off the board, handing Joe the white ones. "You've been kind of…down, lately." It was a rare thing to see two guys talk about their feelings, but that didn't mean they didn't worry about each other just as much as any girl.

Biff had seen Joe get stronger by the day after being shot, pushing himself to be better than anyone had expected. But his psyche had taken a turn for the worse, and the previously upbeat boy had expressed frustration at his situation and doubts that he'd recover as much as he'd hoped. Though Biff couldn't think of anything more to do, other than sit by his side and wait for the eventual reconciliation with the events that had happened, it didn't mean he wasn't just as aggravated as Joe at the actions that had occurred, even if it had been out of his control.

"I'm fine, Biff." Joe sighed, moving out the pawn that was in front of his Knight and rubbing his leg absentmindedly. "Just trying to re-think my life. My whole future centered around detective work."

"I know, and you've been doing great, Joe, but that doesn't mean I don't worry." He thought of the bruises on Joe's leg, which hadn't completely faded in the month between the incident and now. He thought of the swollen hand and assorted other cuts and bruises that had been cropping up with surprising regularity for the past few weeks. "You know you can tell me anything, right?"

Joe looked at him, cracking a true smile. "Yeah, Biff. I know." Except this, because Biff would think him a coward, too weak to take care of himself, if he told his friend he was intimidated by a girl, hurt by a girl.

He wasn't a coward. He was stronger than Cathy. He had to be.

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