Who: Frank and Joe Hardy What: First dream reminds the brothers of lost loves When: Back dated to Mid-April Where: The brothers' apartment Ratings/Warning: Low/none Status: Complete!
Frank Hardy sat on the edge of his bed, his eyes passing right through the cell phone in his hands. He had messaged his girlfriend, Callie Shaw earlier that morning after he had dreamt about her, Joe, Iola, and himself solving a mystery as mere high school kids. It had been too early to tell his brother, nor was he sure he wanted to, just in case the mention of Iola would send him back into the spiral he had been in before the move. So he had done the next best thing: sent a text message to Callie.
Even though it was early in California, he knew that Callie would be up and getting ready for work around this time in New York. He was eager to hear what her reaction would be, especially about the part with Iola. In the meantime, he spent the pre-dawn hours stretching and getting ready for his morning run. He had spotted a jogging path at a park not too far from their apartment and had started exploring a few of the paths it split into every morning before work.
He had thought about inviting Joe, but he was not sure the man would want to go. It was not like he needed the exercise. Joe could roll out of bed every day with just enough time to grab breakfast on the way out the door and still beat Frank’s mile time. He was just about to go and see if Joe wanted to join him anyway when his phone beeped.
Frank had picked up the phone to read the message. It was from Callie, but she had not shared his exuberance. In fact, her words made him feel like he was dumber than the high school kid in his dream, getting locked inside a water tower by a homeless man. No, he was dumber than that. He was the world’s biggest idiot.
’Frank, you need to stop doing this. Don’t make this any harder on me.’
How could he have not noticed? Sure, she had not responded to many of his messages after they had fought in the restaurant, but he had thought that when she had wished him and Joe a safe trip out to California, they had made some progress in the right direction. He had never been so wrong.
’Please don’t contact me again.’
Frank let the phone fall back on the bed and moved his palms to his eyes, wishing he could rub the last few minutes away. He needed to get out of there, out of the room where he had so foolishly let himself believe a lie for nearly a month. He needed to go on a run. A long run. He’d leave Joe a note and worry about the dream later. Taking a deep breath, he stood and headed out of his room, intending to grab his water bottle from the fridge in the kitchen.
Joe had not slept an entire night through since he and Frank had arrived in California. He told his brother that it was jetlag, that he was just getting used to the time difference, but that wasn’t really it. They had driven, not flown to California, and with Frank dragging them all over the country, Joe’s body’d had plenty of time to adjust to the gradual change in time between New York and Irvine.
The issue was that Joe was having problems sleeping, the same problems he’d had in New York, lying in the bed he’d once shared with Iola, alone with his thoughts, grief and guilt. At times he woke up at two am and struggled to remember that she was gone. He’d roll over to put an arm around her only to find the spot she used to sleep in cold and empty.
Immediately after her death, Joe had dreamed about her once. In that dream she had told him it had all been a misunderstanding, she wasn’t really dead. He had been so relieved, so happy to see her. When he woke up that morning reality had come crashing back and the sleepless nights had begun.
He hadn’t dreamed of her again since. His nights were spent restlessly tossing and turning, until he dropped off out of sheer exhaustion, only to wake up a few hours later and not be able to get back to sleep.
Then had come that dream. It was different than any other dream Joe had ever had before. He and Frank had been teenagers in the 20’s or 30’s apparently solving their first case, a robbery at the oldest house in town, and clearing the name of the father of their friend. Chet had been there. So had Biff, Phil and Callie. So had Iola.
Joe had woken up from the dream in a sweat. He and Frank had solved the mystery, returned the stolen treasure and had been rewarded handsomely, but all Joe could think about was Iola. Coming to California was supposed to be a new start for him, a way for him to move past her death, but here he was dreaming about her again, desperate for her to be there with him now.
It was two am when Joe finally couldn’t stand it any longer. At first he thought of waking his brother. Of talking for the first time, but he stopped himself just outside Frank’s door. He felt foolish waking his brother up at two in the morning because of some dream. He wasn’t 6 anymore. Frank was worried enough about him. He probably didn’t want to hear about how Callie had been in the dream either.
So Joe retreated from his brother’s room, but he did not go back to bed. He spent the rest of the predawn hours pacing around the living room, which was where Frank found him when he emerged for his morning run.
Frank was so lost in his thoughts that he nearly tripped over Joe pacing in the living room. “Joe? What are you doing up?” Frank had not heard Joe get up, but then again, he had other things on his mind this morning. Considering his apparent lack of observation when it came to the people close to him, he probably would not have heard Joe if he had been playing the drums instead of pacing.
He was not in any mood to try and cheerfully goad his brother into a run with him as he had done a few mornings ago. He doubted Joe would have believed his smile even if he tried. The wound from Callie’s text was still very fresh and weighing heavily on his mind. Ah. That’s right. This isn’t about me. Frank ran a hand through his hair and looked at Joe. There were dark circles under his eyes that had not seemed to lighten even on the other side of the country. Right now, they looked as dark as the sky outside.
Frank did not ask if something was wrong, or even what was wrong. He could guess that much. If the haunted look was anything to go by, Joe had not been dealing with his ‘jet lag’ very well. His eyes softened in understanding. He had guessed, of course, that it was not the time change that kept his brother awake at odd hours of the morning, but he had not said anything and even helped extend the excuse.
One hand extended toward the small table beside the kitchen. Neutral territory. Frank did not want to go back into his room and he did not want Joe to feel like he was invading his place of solace. “Want to talk about it?”
Joe wasn’t sure how long he’d been pacing about the living room when he heard the door to his brother’s room open. For a moment he froze where he was thinking he’d somehow managed to wake his brother up. He glanced at the clock on the wall and realized just how long he’d been out there. It was nearly dawn and Frank was up for his morning run. He turned to answer his brother, another excuse about how, even a week later, he was still suffering from “jetlag”. He stopped when he got a look at his brother’s face.
For a moment it Frank looked just as bad as Joe himself felt. Just for a moment, though, before his eyes softened and his shoulders relaxed. This caused Joe to frown. Just as Frank hadn’t had to ask, Joe hadn’t either. It seemed as though Frank may have finally come to the conclusion about Callie that Joe had known for weeks. There wasn’t much else Joe could think of that would make his brother look as though he’d been punched in the gut.
Joe hadn’t known Callie all that well. Unlike in the Dreams, she hadn’t gone to highschool with the Hardys and their friends. Frank had started to date her during grad school. Frank wasn’t what one could call the romantic type, but Joe could tell from day one that Callie had been special to him. It was too bad that Callie hadn’t seemed to understand the man she had been dating. Joe wondered, not for the first time, that if he’d had more of his act together, if it would have been Callie joining Frank on this life adventure instead.
Joe didn’t really want to talk about what was keeping him up. He had at two am, but enough time had passed for him to do enough thinking and fall back into what had become the status quo. However, it was clear to him that some talking had to be done. He let out a tight breath and took a seat at the table. He looked up at his brother and asked point blank. “You tried talking to Callie, didn’t you?”
Now Frank was the one who did not want to talk about it; Joe had hit the nail right on the head. He debated making up an excuse to avoid the subject, but that was not fair to his brother. He was the one who had originally suggested they talk and Joe had taken olive branch. Frank could not avoid it just because he’d rather it have been a fern, so he sat down at the small table across from Joe and sighed.
“I wanted to tell her about a dream I had this morning, but…well...” Frank shook his head. How could he explain that he thought their relationship had been on the mend when Callie was just trying to make it easier to say goodbye? Or perhaps she was just trying to be kind to a former boyfriend. She always had a soft spot for idiots. I guess that’s why she put up with me for as long as she did. “I guess won’t be doing that anymore.”
Frank really didn’t have to explain anything, Joe knew his brother. He understood that Frank had believed he and Callie would work out somehow. Callie had been the first girl Frank had loved, their relationship the first (and only) serious relationship Frank had been in. Joe had picked up on the subtle (and other not quite as subtle) hints Callie had dropped. Frank may have been satisfied with their relationship as it was, but Callie had wanted more and had wanted more for a while. Frank may have been smartest person Joe knew, but when it came to romantic relationships, he was utterly clueless. So when she had left him, it had come as an utter surprise, at least to Frank.
This morning was the first time Joe had seen him even close to cracking since they had packed up their things in the U-Haul. Frank had done a good job putting on a brave face - the denial had probably helped. But that seemed to be over now and, in a way, Joe was a little relieved that Frank wouldn’t be lying to himself any longer.
“I’m sorry, Frank,” he said. “I really am. I know you wanted to believe she’d come around. I hoped she would too, but…” he trailed off for a moment. “It’s not your fault, you know.”
“I may not know a lot of things about women, Joe.” Frank gave his brother a wan smile. “But I’m pretty sure it was my fault.” He was supposed to be a reporter, figuring out stories and leads even before the events actually happened. He was supposed to notice everything, especially how people reacted to one another. Frank honestly had no excuse to give himself for not seeing the writing Callie had written on the wall in bright neon halogen lights. There was nothing left to misinterpret or deny, so he didn’t.
But oh, what he would give to go back and change her mind.
To Frank, it felt like someone had pulled the chain to his heart like a stopper in the bath, letting all the happiness and love drain away until only an empty space remained. He would never think about comparing his pain to Joe’s - not in a million years! - but that did not mean he did not feel the agony of losing the first woman he had ever loved to his own stupidity. He stopped himself from going over all the ‘what ifs’ that were drifting through the back of his mind. He knew that the moment he started down that road he would likely end up pacing in the pre-morning hours in alongside his brother.
“But thanks for taking my side anyway.” Frank reached over and placed a hand on his brother’s shoulder. He had applied and accepted a job so far from their home so that Joe could get away from the ghost of Iola and make a fresh start of it. Maybe he could learn how to do that too.
Joe could have argued that the break-up hadn’t been Frank’s fault. Or, at least, not all his fault. Yes, he had been willfully blind to Callie’s hints, only seeing them for what they were after she had thrown a drink in his face. However, Frank and Callie had been together awhile. Long enough, Joe would have liked to think, for Callie to know the type of person Frank was, that marriage wasn’t the end all be all goal in his life. If she had wanted a proposal so badly, she could have done it herself. It was the 21st century, women could propose if they wanted to. A relationship wasn’t a one-way street, either, with the wants of one outweighing the desires of another. Even if Frank hadn’t been observant enough to understand what Callie had wanted, Callie also hadn’t been observant enough to understand what Frank wanted. If blame had to be laid (and Joe really didn’t think that was necessary) both of them were at fault here for not truly understanding each other. At the end of the day, as much as they cared about each other, Frank and Callie weren’t necessarily right for each other.
He could have argued this, and if he had been the same man he had been less than a year ago, he would have. However, the only thing he was mentally equipped to do was remain in Frank’s corner. There were certain things one had to conclude themselves. All Joe could do was help Frank reach them.
“I’ll always take your side,” Joe answered, his shoulder shrugging lightly under Frank’s hand. He always had and he always would, just as Frank had always taken his. “The dream you had that you wanted to talk to her about. Do you want to tell me about it?” It had to have been better than the taunting dream Joe himself had had.
Not for the first time, Frank was glad that his brother was here with him. It had been nearly a decade since they had lived under the same roof, but he had always known that no matter what happened, he could always count on Joe to back him up. They had always had a good relationship growing up - sometimes they were well nigh inseparable, especially when the two took up a ‘case’ - and Frank would not have it any other way.
Oh yeah. The dream. Frank pulled his hand back and considered his options. Should he tell Joe about the dream? Discounting the fact that both Callie and Iola were in the dream, it was actually pretty interesting. As long as he left Iola and Callie out of it, he could probably even use it to distract them both from said femme fatales. “It was a strange dream, but the good kind of strange. It was like being inside one of the old technicolor classic movies, except with less celebrities and more people from Bayport.”
“It started out with the two of us narrowly avoiding getting hit by a car being driven by this red haired guy - well, he didn’t really have red hair, but we didn’t know that at the time…”
Joe felt the color drain from his face. That was exactly how his dream had started. He sat back in his seat and stared across the table at Frank. He and his brother were close, but sharing dreams? That was weird.
“It was a wig,” he cut into Frank’s explanation, practically murmuring the words. He licked his suddenly dry lips and leaned forward over the table. “In your dream, did we met up with Chet afterwards at his house and he told us that someone had stolen his car? The Queen. Then three of us went off looking for it and ran into Cal…” he trailed off. He realized now why Frank had wanted to talk to Callie about the dream. He shook his head. “We ended up at the police station and Chief Collig was there with Con and we learned that someone had held up the ticket window for the ferry....” As he talked he studied Frank’s face carefully.
Frank’s face went from excited to surprised to suspicious. “That’s exactly how it happened. Ferry and all.” He leaned forward as well, dark eyes studying Joe’s face in return. The way Joe had picked up on the way his dream had gone was beyond bizarre. “How did you know that?” He had not even sent all the details of the dream to Callie, so how could his brother have found out about his dream so soon? No, there was no possible way he could have guessed the name of Chet’s car, of all things.
Unless…
Unless his brother had dreamt the same dream. Frank’s eyes widened in excitement. “Joe, did you also dream about a robbery at the Tower Mansion?” Was this what the people on the Network had been talking about? Were these the strange Dreams he had read the others comment upon time and time again? It had to be. There was no other explanation. ’Once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.’
Frank’s mind was racing a mile a minute. He had not originally caught Joe’s slip up about Callie, but he caught it now. It was true, Callie and Frank had been together in the dream, but so had Joe and- Oh. He swallowed as his mind finally reached the inevitable conclusion. Iola. No wonder Joe had been up and pacing in the living room. They had only left New York a month ago. There was no way that Joe had already managed to get to a place where he would be able to dream of Iola without retreating back to the shell Frank had found his brother buried in while in Bayport.
Joe nodded slowly. “Yeah, I did.” He took a breath and leaned back in his seat a little. He stared across the table at his brother, unable to make any sense of the situation. Zatana hadn’t given him very much information to fall back on for when the Dreams had actually started happening. Only what they were, which he still wasn’t sure whether or not he believed. She never mentioned that he’d dream the exact same Dream as someone else.
If he were to stop to think about it, it made a bit of sense. Frank was his brother, after all. The two of them had always been close, even after high school when the two of them had started to go their separate ways to live their own lives. Joe had stayed closer to home while Frank had done more traveling, even gone abroad for a year. Even then they had stayed in close touch with each other. After everything they had been through together, it kind of made sense that they would Dream the same thing. That is, if any of this made any kind of sense at all.
He saw the moment Frank came to the realization that not only had he dreamt of Callie, but Joe had dreamt of Iola and what that probably meant for him. He saw the excitement in his eyes and face morph into a now familiar expression of concern and worry. Joe hated that look. He didn’t want Frank to look at him that way. The look prompted Joe to have to confront the thoughts and pain he did not want to confront.
He also didn’t want Frank to use him as an excuse to hide from and ignore his own pain. It was a lot easier for Joe to help Frank through his heartache than it was to muddle through his own. A frown pulled a little at the corners of Joe’s mouth. Just for an instant before he forced them to flicker upwards again. “I’m fine,” he told Frank. “It was weird, but I’m alright.”
All right. That was a phrase Frank was not sure described either of them this morning. He noticed the quick frown just as he had noticed everything else his brother kept buried over the past month. Even if he had wanted to continue the conversation about the dreams, Frank was loathe to bring up the issue of Iola being alive in the dreams. At least, not until Joe himself was ready to talk about it.
He swallowed the remaining excitement left from the discovery and gave Joe a small smile. “I’m not. But, I think I will be.” If he were honest with his brother, perhaps his brother would eventually be honest with him in return. Frank looked up at the clock. It was still early. As much as he did not want to go any further into his relationship troubles, he knew that the frustration and self-anger was still there, lingering below the surface. He really could use that run, even after talking to Joe. “I also think I’m going to go on a longer run today. Want to come along?”
Joe was a little taken aback with how easily Frank admitted that he wasn’t alright. He had spent so much time in recent months hiding and telling everyone little white lies about how he was doing that he just assumed everyone else would do the same. He felt a twinge of guilt, that maybe if Frank was being honest with him, he should do the same in return. Of course, he had to be honest with himself first, and that was easier said than done.
He followed Frank’s eyes towards the clock. It was still early. He didn’t have to be at work for a few hours yet and he certainly wasn’t going to be getting any sleep. The thought of attempting to eat breakfast made his stomach turn. “Yeah,” he said through a deep breath. “I think I will.”