#but again Iola and Vanessa are the same character

[thenonbinarydetective]

I always see nedcy shippers....are there any frank x callie shippers left anymore? Ned has die hard fans saying he's a revolutionary character even outside nancy but haven't really seen passionate callie fans. She gets brought up only when Frank's mentioned and only to own other frank ships. Ppl say she's a very special character but hardly include her in anything. Vanessa despite not really being a classical character is included more than her.

Idk sure. Here? Probably not. Tumblr is still full of games only fans who see Callie as a roadblock.

Vanessa doesn’t get in the way of anything and isn’t all that special so I guess that helps her. And people still love fridging for whatever reason

It’s not easy for Callie to exist as a woman in this environment

[gayrefrain]

Francy Fanfic: one strange journey

Relationship: Frank/Nancy 

Word Count: ~4k

Tags: No mystery just fun, modern!au, halloween fun, slight violence, happy ending.

“This may be your dumbest idea yet,” Nancy told Joe as she adjusted the awful Haunted Bride costume on her torso. There was no way for her to fix the cleavage exposure. It was just going to have to stick around at the level of Too Much. Thankfully, it wasn’t popping out.

“I don’t know,” Frank played Devil’s advocate as he stuffed hay down his shirt. “Remember the time he ran to save a horse from an explosion with no regard for his own safety?”

“I have no regrets,” Joe said loftily, adjusting his white button down. He was the lucky one, working straightforward security for Bayport Halloween Carnival’s House of Horrors. Nancy was to patrol one of the last rooms as a Miss Havisham-like bride, but supernaturally evil in a thrift store wedding dress. Frank was just outside as the last scare, the evil Scarecrow in the yard in a large, Colonial-like blouse and tattered pants. He could almost be a rugged werewolf if he didn’t have hay sticking out of his sleeves.

George was organizing the event for the local children’s hospital, a giant scarefest for the entire town. She’d been working since the beginning of the summer, which was a match made in heaven because she knew how to organize like no one else. 

The original plan was to have Nancy and Frank to work security with Joe, but when they lost two cast members last minute, Joe offered them in place.

“Besides, I think I show room for improvement,” Joe added.

“For getting smarter or getting dumber?” Nancy clarified.

“Because it’s up in the air,” Frank smirked.

“Shut up, Scarecrow,” The blond brother said. “But in all seriousness, thank you guys, we were gonna be totally screwed since Biff and Vanessa got sick.”

“Well, you totally owe us,” She said. “This dress is like wearing a brillo pad.”

“And this hay is no cashmere either,” Frank griped.

“You need more, bro,” Joe patted him on the shoulder. “We have the pre-meeting in ten minutes in the foyer. Be there or be square.” He left.

“Lucky bastard,” She muttered as she put on the green necklace that glowed eerily around her makeup-slathered neck. Her entire face was painted a pale blue, and her lips were painted dark red, almost like blood. She was almost afraid to look herself in the mirror.

“Too much hay?” Frank turned to her.

Not as much as my boobs right now, she almost said but bit her tongue.

The banter with the elder Hardy boy had gotten weird recently. It was the first time in years where they were both single at the same time. She’d always felt a jolt when she hung out with him, solving cases and cheating death. She attributed it to that. But now, they’re just in college. And the attraction has strengthened into a constant hum.

“You look great,” She reassured. “But you need the hat.”

He donned the straw hat and spread his hands with solid spirit fingers, and she couldn’t help the giggle that escaped her throat. “It’s weird to see you laugh like this,” He gestured to her whole look.

“Should I cackle instead?”

“That’d be preferable.”

She took a deep breath, and released a ghoulish cackle.

“Oh my god, you’re terrifying,” Bess squealed with delight as she and Chet rushed in the room. She had two makeup bags hooked around her neck, dangling against her body. “You both are. God, I’m amazing.”

“Good work, Bess,” Nancy said. “Even though I feel like I’ll need a shovel to get this makeup off.”

“I have makeup wipes that will work wonders,” Her friend reassured. “But after some photos and the haunted house.”

Chet took quick preliminary photos of them both, and a couple goofy ones. They then took selfies, all four of them, before surrendering their phones to Chet, who was in charge of lighting and tech. Phones “ruined the illusion” according to George, so they all had to be relinquished until after the event.

“Shit, we gotta go to the meeting,” Bess said, looking at her own phone. “Let’s go.”

Nancy nearly tripped over the stupid heels she had to wear. “Did we really need these for the aesthetic?” She griped.

“Use the discomfort in your character,” Frank suggested. She stuck her tongue out at him as they made their way through to the beginning of the maze.

In the foyer of the house, George stood on top of an old chest, wearing all black. She whistled as people started to pile in. “This will be super quick, guys, then we can get into positions. We’ll start letting people in right at 6pm. We have security volunteers to trail behind each group to make sure they’re leaving in a timely manner. We also have them to make sure people don’t get too frightened, and take people out if necessary.”

“Like take them out-” Tony, dressed as a zombie, playfully slid his thumb across his own neck.

“Yes, Prito,” George’s voice dripped sarcasm as everyone laughed. “We’re going to kill the people here who get scared.” She moved on, trying to hide a smirk. “For the first hour, it’s going to be mostly kids and families, so don’t worry about being crazy scary. Keep it simple. After the first round and a fifteen minute break, we’re doing the next hour for older teens and adults. Bring out your A game there. Everyone entering has signed a waiver, because I won’t allow any of us to get sued. The participants have been informed that this is all in good fun, but if something happens, call out the safeword ‘pumpkin’ and we’ll have security come ASAP. But this is all for the lols, so don’t worry, just have a good time. Remember, we’re doing this all for charity. And it’s looking to be one of the most lucrative events at the Carnival-”

“Let’s give it up for George!” Nancy shouted, clapping. Immediately, every participant clapped and cheered, and whistles pierced the air.

George smiled. “Seriously, guys, thank you for all your help. Let’s make this best damn House of Horrors ever!” She swung up an arm in victory, still holding her clipboard. They all whooped and hollered again. “If you have any questions, let me or security know, we’ll be the only ones connected by walkie.” She titled the black communication device back and forth in her grip. “Remember, kids, what’s our safeword?”

“Pumpkin,” They all dutifully repeated back.

“Good,” She grinned. “Let’s keep some Halloween ass. Everyone, take your places!”

Nancy and Frank started the walk to the long walk to their end of the House of Horror. She nearly face-planted in the stupid heels, but thankfully Frank was there to catch her.

“I’m a bit worried about you,” Frank admitted as they walked to the back of the ‘house’ (it was really an elaborate stage within their school’s gym. “You have the major jump scare. Someone could get too scared.”

“I’ll be fine,” She grabbed his hand and to give it a reassuring squeeze, but recoiled at the sharpness of the straw sticking out of his shirt. “Jesus, you weren’t kidding about the hay.”

“I never kid,” He said, a twinkle in his eyes that wasn’t just the haunted lights strung through the gym. “But be safe.”

“Promise,” She reassured. “You too, you have the last one.”

They shook on it.

“God, you look terrifying,” He said, a smile tilting his lips.

She cackled again, but it lost its terror after she started to cough. “God,” She cleared her throat. “I won’t be able to do that all night.”

“You know the adage,” He said. “‘Nothing is scarier.’ Just say nothing.”

“Ooh, that’ll save my voice,” She beamed as they entered her “parlor.” She steadied herself on the heels. God, why did people wear these things?

“Places people!” George shouted, echoing through the hardwood floors.

“We better get in our places,” Nancy said.

Frank nodded. “Stay safe, Nance.”

She nodded back, and he left through the final door, a false one marked THE END before a fake cornfield with Frank standing by the real exit.

She stretched out her limbs, wincing at the rough fabric scraping against her skin. She contorts her face, and gets ready for a night of horror.

Working a haunted house was definitely not as entertaining as going through one. She had to do the same scare every five minutes, getting screamed at in turn, which is very disconcerting. One kid cried, but thankfully her mom was right there. Mostly, everyone was pumped and excited to be frightened. One kid even said as he left, “That wasn’t so scary” only to shriek when he saw Frank as a scarecrow. She had to stifle her giggle then. When it was Joe’s turn to pull up the rear of the group, he winked at her and faked being a Zombie with arms outstretched, or dancing like a 1920s can-can dancer. He switched it up every rotation. She couldn’t help but smile then either. The hour flew by, and then it was time for the break.

“How’s it going?” Frank walked to her room, taking off the ridiculous hat.

She kicked off her heels, and hopped on one foot so she could rub her feet. “When I can wear slippers, I’ll be thrilled,” She said, thinking of their friend group’s plans to watch horror movies and have a sleepover at the Hardy House that night when the event was over. “Otherwise, I’m great. We have a ton of people here.”

Frank nodded. Some of his makeup had sweat off, and his hair was matted to his forehead. Why did she find that so damn attractive?

“The event’s going real well,” He agreed. “The kids were so cute. Did you see the fairy princess?”

“I did,” She cooed, thinking of the little girl with a sparkly pink dress and tiara made of sequins. “She said she wished I’d fall in love again so I could be happy.”

“That’s adorable,” Frank said, then cleared his throat. She pressed her lips together and switched to the other foot.

Before she could respond, a sharp whistled pierced the air. “Actors!” George’s voice called through. “Meet me in the cauldron room now!”

Nancy and Frank shared a look. Leaving her shoes off to the corner, they walk to the cauldron room. George stood with Joe, Bess, and Chet as Iola stood as a cliche witch in front of giant bowl of neon goop.

“What’s going on?” Frank asked.

“We just got an influx of college students to the ticket booth,” George said. “They all want to do the haunted house too, so they asked if we could stay open another hour.”

Half of them groaned. Nancy was one of that half. Her feet were sobbing.

“I know,” The organized friend held up her clipboard appeasingly. “But it’s for charity, and the money would be record-breaking for the festival. But if you guys vote no, I’ll respect it and I’ll tell them no.”

Frank and Nancy shared a look.

“All those in favor of staying open the extra hour,” Joe shouted, cupping his hand around his mouth.

Every hand shot up, though some more reluctant than others.

George smiled, exhaling in pure relief. “I owe all of you, seriously. I’ll figure something out. Let’s get the next round started, peeps! Back to your places.”

“If I didn’t love George so much,” Nancy said as she and Frank walked back. “I’d kill her.”

“I don’t believe that for a second,” He replied. “Because I’d kill her first.”

Nancy laughed, then groaned at the stretch of the makeup on her face. “God, another two hours of this.”

“We can do anything,” Frank reassured them both. “Remember when we fought that guy on a train?”

“Frank, you can’t compare those two things,” She said as they walked into her room. “This is infinitely worse.”

He chuckled. “Good luck.”

“Break a leg,” She mocked and he left to his room. With a sigh, she slipped the torture devices on and went into terrifying guests.

Thankfully, the second hour was even quicker. She tried to entertain herself into getting more into the scares, and that made it go by faster. The teens and adults were a fun mix of skeptical and easier to surprise. They underestimated how terrifying they’d made the gym.

“Quick five minute break!” George’s voice called through on the speakers.

This time, she snuck into Frank’s room.

Frank must not have heard her, and she saw him perfectly still against the fake posts.

“Does that hurt your arms?” She asked.

No response.

“Frank, you can’t scare me, I literally rehearsed this with you last week,” She stepped up to her scarecrow-clad friend. She tapped him on the shoulder. But he didn’t move. “What are you-”

Someone grabbed her shoulders.

She screamed and tried to slash an elbow behind her but it was grabbed to stop impact. She thrashed in the grip.

“Nance!” A familiar voice shouted, and she stopped struggling. She turned around to see Frank laughing at her, brown eyes glinting in the light of the fake night sky and his own mirth.

“You ass!” She slapped his shoulder, a few of her own giggles escaping. “What is that?” She pointed to the body still attached to the pole.

“My acting coach,” He said, and took off a doll of a scarecrow. It wasn’t as tall as Frank, but it was realistic enough that she didn’t feel ashamed of her reaction. “Joe found him in the prop closet. I think it’s from Oklahoma!”

“You’re ridiculous,” Nancy said.

“I am impressed you were so quick to throw an elbow at me,” He said. “You’re badass.”

“We knew that,” She said, and he just smiled. “How are you holding up?”

“I’m okay,” He said. “My arms are gonna be spaghetti tomorrow.”

“My feet will be ribbons,” She said. “We’ll be quite a pair.”

“One more hour,” Frank said like it was a prayer, eyes closed. “We can do it.”

Nancy nodded then yawned. “You’d think I’d be exhilarated but I’m just exhausted.”

“Same,” Frank said.

“Back to your places!” George shouted, not bothering with the intercom.

“The college students,” Nancy said with faux impact. “Should be interesting.”

“They should be drunk,” He corrected. “Be careful.”

“You too.”

She went back to her room, cursing every step on her poor feet. Maybe George would pay her back with a certificate to a foot massage.

Time melted into a weird slow mix with fast, with how little she was absorbing all the events. She checked out, since most of the college students were drunk and scared easily with latent reactions. The poor security guards had to deal with a lot of lingering co-eds.

As Joe shoved the last one from her room, she caught him rolling his eyes grandly. She sent him a sympathetic smile in return.

Nancy had no idea how long they had left until the night was over. At least a half hour seemed to have past, but she had no way of making sure. If she was judging by her forming blisters, it was three in the morning. As she let herself lull into the repetition.

She heard the telltale shriek of the sewer room before her, caused by a sound effect of fake-rats and a “mole person” (really just a freshman in pale pink makeup and a spooky headlight) giggling. She braced herself for the general scare that was about to occur.

But then, for her own amusement, she got closer to the door so it would cover her when it opened. Might as well shake things up, it was nearing the end of the night. And people had been very receptive so far.

When the door opened, she waited until the person fully walked through. She jumped out from behind it.

“Boo!” She went classic.

The man screamed and punched her in the face. She hit the floor, smacking her shoulder into it with a violent thud.

“Oh god!” The same guy screamed again. Listening over the sounds of the cartoon birds chirping around her head, she could only hear him. Was he alone? “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry-”

Nancy’s head throbbed, and her nose pulsed. She gently touched her upper lip and pulled her hand away to find blood that wasn’t fake.

The other door opened.

“Nancy?” Frank whispered, and saw the scene before him. “What the hell?” He stalked in, causing the guy to stagger backwards.

But her friend didn’t pay him any attention as he immediately knelt to her side. “You okay?” He lifted her head up. “Pumpkin!” He shouted, and the lights flicked on. She winced, hopefully because of the sudden brightness and not a concussion.

“Are you okay?” He asked again, his fingers going to her hairline to move stray hair out of the way. His fingers were so gentle.

“I’m fine,” She said, but it was much breathier than it needed to be.

Joe, George and Chet burst into the room. “What happened?”

“I’m fine,” Nancy repeated immediately.

“I punched her,” The guy said right after. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t think there was anyone in here- and she scared me-”

“Kind of the point of a haunted house,” Joe snapped. Both he and Frank helped her to stand. “You alright, Nan?”

“I’m fine,” Nancy repeated. 

“Oh god, blood,” Chet said. “I’m going back to the sound board.” He left.

“I’m taking her to an EMT,” Frank said, his hand still on her elbow.

“Nope, Joe, you take her,” George said. “Frank, we need you to keep it up in here, we only have four more groups left.”

“I’m so sorry,” The guy said.

“It was a clean break,” Nancy said, gently prodding her nose.

“Leave it be,” George ordered. “Let the EMTs handle it. Joe, can you take her to the first aid tent?”

Joe nodded.

“You, scaredy-cat,” George pointed at the boy. “You’re coming with me.”

George left, taking him with her, his head hanging low. She even found herself sympathetic. She couldn’t fault protection instincts. 

“Take good care of her,” Frank said to Joe before turning to her. “Take care, Nance.”

She nodded and let Joe guide her out of the haunted house.

In the tent, the EMT first fixed her nose and cleaned her face. Then she checked her for a concussion, shining lights in her eyes and asking basic questions.

“Sure you’re not feeling dizzy?” The EMT asked.

“I’m fine,” She said. “Seriously, it was more just the surprise of it.”

“I’d feel better if you got an MRI,” Joe said, leaning back on a nearby stool, arms crossed.

“I don’t think they fit in the tent, Joe,” Nancy said obviously.

“I meant take you to the hospital,” Joe mocked back.

“I checked her vitals, reflexes, balance, the works,” The EMT said. “You’re coming up copacetic on all of them. I don’t think you need to go to the hospital. But, if you’re worried-”

“I’m not,” Nancy said, eyeing Joe.

The EMT, her name tag said CAROL, smiled, “Then I say all you have to do is take it easy, Ms. Drew. You just got a bit of a bruise, I think you’re okay. If you feel any sort of dizziness or nausea tomorrow, go to the hospital immediately, but I give you my all-clear.”

“Thanks,” Nancy said. “You heard her, J, you can go back to the House of Horror.”

“It’s already basically over,” Joe said, looking at the nearby clock.  

“Nancy!” Someone called out, and she saw all her friends running up to the tent.

George pulled her into a hug. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Nancy relayed the news to all of them. “Just a bruise and a broken nose.”

“I saw them set it back,” Joe said. “Gross.”

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Bess said. “C’mon, I’ll get you cleaned up.”

As Bess pulled her away to the bathroom, Frank extended a hand to squeeze her shoulder once. “Glad you’re okay.”

“Thanks,” She said back, trying to ignore the warmness that spread from her shoulder to her chest and face.

After getting cleaned up and back in her normal clothes, the only thing about Nancy Drew that had changed since she entered school grounds seven hours before (wow, was it really seven hours?) was the fact she had a bandage on her nose.

“Hey, Marcia.” She turned to the sound of Frank’s voice. He too was cleaned up and back in a sweater and jeans. He looked like Frank, and that made her smile. No more weird cross-hatching on his face, no more weird dark nose like a clown, and no more dumb hat. 

“Cute,” Nancy mocked his reference.

“You heard the plan, Frank?” Bess said, and Nancy was ashamed to admit to even herself that she’d forgotten her friend was right beside her.

“Yep, my house in twenty.”

“George is picking up pizzas,” Bess did a happy, little shoulder shimmy. “We’ve earned it. C’mon, I’m catching a ride with Joe now-”

“I can give you a ride,” Frank offered to Nancy, almost blurting it.

“Is that-” Nancy turned to her friend.

“Great!” Bess said immediately. “It was gonna be crowded with me and Joe anyway. We’ll meet you guys there.”

“Sounds good,” Nancy said as Bess took off. She hefted her bag of costume stuff. With no preamble, Frank took it and they walked out of the school. “Thanks.”

“Anytime. How’re your feet?”

“Thrilled to be back in sneakers,” She said as they walked over to the parking lot. “I hope no one recognizes us.”

“I don’t know how they could,” He said. “Bess did an amazing job.”

She nodded in agreement as they approached Frank’s van. “It’s nice to be me again.”

“Agreed,” He said as he put their bags in the backseat, then turned to her. “It’s nice to see you again too, without all the makeup. It’s good to see your face.”

“You too.”

“It was very terrifying,” He said as they got in the car. “Not knowing what was fake or real blood.”

“I’m sorry,” She said. The van roared to life.

“Not your fault at all,” Frank said. “C’mon, the concussed get to pick the music.”

“I would say I wasn’t diagnosed with a concussion,” She said as she plugged her phone into the AUX cord. “But I’m not giving up the opportunity to play DJ.” Frank took music very seriously, and only he got to pick if he was driving. Or Joe, if Joe beat him at a game of HORSE.  

She put on the greatest hits compilation of The Mamas and the Papas on shuffle, and the first song was their cover of “Twist and Shout.”

The song soothed their frayed nerves along the drive. But then it played “Do You Wanna Dance” next.

Frank pulled over and killed the engine, just as the refrain, “(Love can never be exactly like we want it to be)/I could be satisfied knowing you love me” played.

“Frank, is everything okay?” She turned to him.

“Can I say something?”

She nodded in the darkness of one in the morning.

“When I saw that you were hurt, it was like all time stopped, until I could know you were okay,” He began. She opened her mouth as her heart stuttered in her chest, but he shook his head. “Wait, let me finish.” She nodded once more, mouth dry. “I can’t stand the thought of something bad happening to you, Nance. And I want to be around you all the time, to make sure you’re okay, that you’re happy. Because you make me so happy. I know things have been a bit off with us lately, but I was wondering if you’d- If it’d be alright if- if you wanted to-”  

“Yes.”

In the faint lights from the houses around them, he smirked a little. “You don’t know what I’m wondering.”

“Then spit it out,” She said it with a smile.

“Nancy,” Frank began once more. “Would you go on a date with me?”

Her smile brightened. “Yes,” She said it simply, because with Frank it could always be simple. She leaned over the gearstick and kissed him, then pulled away immediately with a hiss when she bumped her nose to his cheek.

“Hold on,” He whispered, then tilted his head more comfortably. She didn’t bump her nose this time and they kissed. One hand went to the nape of his neck, and the other laid still on his heartbeat, beating just as fast as hers.

His hand cupped her face gently, the other getting tangled in her hair she didn’t bother to put back up in a ponytail.

“Our friends are probably wondering where we are,” Nancy pulled away an inch to say.

“They can wonder a little while longer.”

Note: so that’s my first Francy fic! I’d love to know what you guys think, or if you have any requests. I’m loving Nancy Drew and the Hardy Boys right now, so I’m happy to create more content. Thanks for reading!

[imalifegen89]

The Fracture - A Hardy Boys Fanfiction

In the end, there was a hard lesson to be learned. The Trust, once broken, was one of the hardest things to fix. Even if it was, it would never be the same again.

Hello,

This is my first fanfiction attempt on the famous and much beloved, Hardy Boys series.

First of all, this is a Nancy-Drew-Free zone. Sorry, not sorry.

I'm mostly focused on the brothers and their relationship throughout the story. Unfortunately, I won't be using the other characters such as Callie, Iola, Chet, Biff, Vanessa or any of the others. Original characters will come and go as the story reaches its conclusion. The Hardys' parents and the basic back story (until Iola's death) are kept intact, but after that, I have diverted from canon to headcanon. The brothers are 29 and 30 in this story and have characteristics to portray their adult lives and careers, although their fundamental personalities and quirks remain unchanged.

The story is a sci-fi thriller and is set in the near future. The world-building in this story was inspired by a list of movies and TV series: "Intelligence (TV series -2014), Johnny Mnemonic (Movie 1995) and Electric Dreams (Movie 1984).

Enjoy!

Prologue - Two Years Ago Monday - 10:45 

In Transit

“Frank Hardy?”

“Yes?”

“Son, this is Admiral Hawkins of USS Saratoga…”

For the life of him, Frank Hardy could not recall the rest of the conversation he had with his brother’s commanding officer only three hours ago. There were bits and pieces of words and phrases tumbling around in his brain, refusing to fall into coherent thoughts that would refresh the stark terror he had felt listening to the grave voice of the Flag Officer. 

Words and phrases such as, wounded in action, critical, transferred to port for urgent medical care, brain surgery…would advise you to visit if at all possible, son. 

The clusters of clouds passed at speed as he stared out of the small round window of the jet as it cruised at a sedate 800km/h to get him to a private airfield in Dresden, east Germany. It wasn’t honestly his doing - how he ended up in a private jet flying to Germany. He closed his eyes and sighed, taking a moment to be grateful for Alexis, his beautiful, brilliant wife who had been there with him when he had received the news.

“Frank, give him a bit more workout, he can take it.” 

Lexi’s voice drifted over from the hardware room she had just plugged in the supercomputer’s latest overall system update. This was the final tweak before her people finally handed over the entire system and its rights to his people. Frank smiled and added a few more commands with curt gestures of his gloved hand, enjoying the way the computer responded to his complex demands.

“Okay,” Riley Quinn - Ex Army Ranger Gunnery Sergeant turned agent - smirked from her perch on the table outside the holosphere. “I’m not going to comment on what that would sound like without the context. But Lexi, honestly, the things on this funny screen are already so fast it looks like the sphere’s gonna take off to space anytime now,” she said as Lexi walked out of the room to come stand near Frank’s second in command. “You want your man to speed it up more?”

“How else would I know the latest upgrade is working, my dear?”

“You guys are crazy.”

“If by that you mean, brilliant and sexy, You’d be right.”

Frank listened to their banter as the system finished the final test runs and diagnostics on what he had just put it through. He felt another proud grin break over his face as he stared at the final set of statistics that stared placidly back at him from the screen.

“Huh,” he said. “Would you look at that?”

Lexi joined him on the raised platform and wrapped an arm around his waist. “Did you doubt me?”

“Not even for a second.” He dropped a kiss on her head that reached just under his chin.

His mobile ran then, cutting off Riley’s fake coughing and Lexi’s giggles. It was a withheld number, and he answered because calls like that were normal in his line of work.

“Hello?”

“Is this Frank Hardy?”

“Yes”

“Son, this is Admiral Hawkins of USS Saratoga…”

The next thing he knew, Lexi was shaking his shoulder gently while Riley peered at him, her gaze worried. 

“Frank, who was it?” Lexi demanded, her brows furrowed in a frown and her voice full of concern.”

Frank looked up and blinked. He still had the phone clenched in his fist. He blinked some more, trying to get the static in his mind cleared to answer her question. He knew he was in shock, in a state of suspended reality, to stay away from facing the facts that was going to terrorize him, hurt him to the core.

“It’s, uh, it’s Joe,” he heard his voice through a haze. He sounded dull to his own ears. “I mean, that was his CO. He, um, he got hurt during a raiding operation–”

“Where is he stationed?” That was Quinn. The ex-soldier in her already knew where this was going.

“Saratoga,” Frank mumbled.

That was apparently all Lexi needed from Frank. She entered a few rapid commands to the system as Frank watched, numb, detached and somehow seated on a chair next to the platform. Within a short moment, she had Joe’s initial medical records, x-rays, blood work and test printed and scanned, along with a full explanation of what it all meant. It never even occurred to him to question the legalities of her searches and the data retrievals.

By the time she was done, Frank was aware enough to see the colour drain on her face as she understood the exact condition his younger brother was in.

“Lexi–”

She looked up and took a deep breath. Frank knew that she would never hide anything from him. She always chose honesty, despite how painful it was sometimes. “It’s bad.”

Frank felt whatever air that was left in his lungs leaving in a rush. He deflated, slumping in on himself. The admiral’s somber words echoed in his mind, creating horrifying images of his brother; hurt, bleeding, unconscious…dying. 

And Frank wasn’t there. Frank hadn’t been by his side for seven goddamn years.

Now, his brother might just be lost to him, forever.

A painful sob tore out of him before he could stop it. He bit on his fist savagely and closed his eyes, refusing to let the tears out. If he did, he might not be able to stop it.

There was nothing he could do to stop the shivers that wracked his entire frame as he sat, lost, in that chair though.

“Frank, baby, listen,” her hand on his shoulder was warm and her tone was gentle. “I know you want to get to him as soon as possible, but please, I think you should contact Aaron first.”

It took him a long moment to understand what she was saying. Aaron Burkhardt was a mutual friend. They met him during their time at MIT. He was involved with them in three projects regarding supercomputer processors and software developments. Frank remembered how that veritable genius used to joke with them, saying that electronic brains fascinated him just as much as the real ones.

He was now one of the world's leading innovative neurosurgeons, based in Dresden.

Lexi’s suggestion, however, confused him. What he needed was to get to his brother right now. “Why?”

“Because Joe’s condition is critical,” Lexi explained patiently. “And based on the injuries mentioned on these records, I think you - your brother - is going to need his help.”

The copies of all the medical reports were there in his briefcase that rested on the seat next to him. He hadn’t looked at any of them yet. Looking at Joe's condition depicted in an emotionless set of numbers, chemicals and harsh medical terms felt wrong somehow, before the chance to actually see him. It was an illogical thing to do, he was well aware, and Frank was nothing but logical and practical to the core.

Except, it all changed drastically when it came to the matters of his brother.

He still recalled the first serious argument they’ve ever had, all those years ago, when Joe had announced his intentions for the first time.

“What do you mean you aren’t going to college?” Frank repeated, bewildered, thinking he had heard it wrong.

“I’m enlisting,” Joe said, stretching his tall frame across Frank’s bed.

Things had been hard, messed up for some time now. After eight months since Iola’s sudden, cruel and needless death, things were finally starting to fall back into their usual rhythm. They had just gotten back from their first case after the break they took from everything, only yesterday. It had been a resounding success too, and an entire ring of cyber criminals were now cooling their heels in a county prison in France. Not bad for two private detectives returning to their game after months of hiatus. Joe had been happy, and Frank had seen the pale, sickly complexion of his brother's face acquiring a healthy tan during the time they spent chasing those hackers. He had seen the haunted look in dull, blue eyes getting replaced by a gleam that didn't bode well for law breakers. He had finally seen his brother getting better. 

Or so he had assumed.

What he was hearing now, told him that his assumptions should have been exactly the opposite.

“Have you lost your mind? Tell me this is a joke!” His question and the demand came out louder and sharper than he intended.

“It's really not,” Joe’s reply was quiet as he fixed his gaze on the ceiling, avoiding Frank’s incredulous expression. “I’ve been thinking about it for a long time, and my application’s already been accepted.”

Joe’s admission did nothing to calm the anger that started to boil in Frank. He rarely let his emotions get the best of him like that. But this was Joe - his brother, his best friend - who could effortlessly make Frank’s carefully crafted logical mindset fly out of the window. And now, he was telling Frank that he was just…abandoning him like it was nothing.

“You already-” Frank had to cut himself off and unclench his teeth so he could speak properly. “Joe, what the hell? That’s not the plan,” he shook his head, still wondering whether this was a sick joke his brother was playing, despite his denial. “The plan was to go to college, and then Uni, to get our degrees in criminology and–”

“Frank,” it was Joe’s turn to cut him off. He sounded so calm and in control. It was as if they had switched personalities. The thought made him want to laugh hysterically. “Brother, that’s always been your plan, not mine. I'm sorry you thought I was just going to follow you along–”

This was crazy. Why was he only hearing this now? “Joe I don't get it,” he said, the project he was working on forgotten as he had his chair turned towards his bed fully to face his brother. “How come you never spoke about this before?” 

“It never came up.”

Frank took a few moments to breathe slowly and study his brother. Joe was still sprawled on his bed and avoiding eye contact. There was a certain weariness about him and that look of defeat, that sense of infinite grief was back, wrapped around his brother like a heavy cloak.

“Is this about Iola?” Frank asked softly, carefully. There were still a lot of landmines in that conversation realm that Frank did not want to trip, further upsetting his brother. As it happened, his good intentions were not enough to keep him from doing exactly that.

“What?” Joe was startled enough to turn fully towards Frank, finally looking at him. “No.”

The instant denial sounded genuine enough. He would have accepted Joe’s word for what it was at any other time. But, since Iola’s death, there was a state of discord between them. That made him badly miscalculate his response.

“Are you sure?” Frank asked, his skepticism evident in his tone. “Or is this you using military service, of all things, as a way to run away from all the memories?” He saw the way Joe flinched at hearing that, the way his eyes flashed, hurt. But he couldn’t stop. “That you aren’t using that as a distraction from what happened? Is this your choice to find a way to feel better?”

Joe stared at him for a long moment, and except for that initial flash of hurt, there were no other emotions in his blank expression. It was too late for Frank to take back what came out of his mouth. He kind of didn’t want to, because, damn it, he was hurt too. 

“No, Frank,” When he finally broke the silence, his voice was still quiet. But there was a hard edge to his tone that he had never aimed at Frank before. “I’m not joining the navy, signing up to put my life on the line, along with the lives of people around me, as my feel-good form of therapy, so fuck you.” 

Fair. Frank knew he deserved that. “Joe,” he said, shaking his head. “No. I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant–”

“Whatever,” Joe said, getting up from his bed, clearly done talking about it. “How you feel about my choice is not going to change my mind. It’s done. Just thought you might wanna know.”

Admittedly, Frank had handled that wrong. He had known that the moment Joe had left his room without saying anything further. It had taken some time, but Frank had spoken to Joe after that a few times, and had managed to apologize in earnest. Joe in turn, had revealed that he hadn’t wanted to make him upset by telling him his plans, which had happened anyway.  

They never truly let any grudges grow between them, not for long. Sure, they fought and argued, but at the end of the day, they always managed to talk things out, forgive each other and move on. 

They were brothers and they trusted each other. That always came first.

Frank went to college as he planned. He threw himself at any and all academic pursuits he could to fill the time. His bid for MIT was accepted easily where he spent the next four years earning his masters in the field that fascinated him the most: software engineering and supercomputing. After that, his projects and thesis regarding the practical uses of his fields with regards to global surveillance and data gathering caught the interest of a certain agency that specialised in exactly that.

At the age of 28, Frank was now one of the youngest agents in the Central Intelligence Agency who had the command and control of his own branch, Global Signal Intelligence. Which was a fancy way of saying he had permission to run electronic eyes and ears all over the world. Even better, he had the chance to bring his own precious tool he had helped to create for the job.

He even met the love of his love, Alexis Wayland during that time. She got a job at Hewlett Packard Enterprise soon after the concept of ‘Spearhead’ turned into reality. The programme was rechristened as HPE Cray XX351a/Spearhead by their sponsors at the final stage before it was procured by Frank’s current employer.  

While Frank found his way into the spying business, Joe went on to the service as he said he would, taking to the disciplined life of a sailor like a duck to water. Years went by as he finished his training specialising as an Engineer’s mate, three tours in three ships followed by a bid at the Officer Candidate Training School and then the rigorous requirements and training of BUD/S. 

This was his brother’s seventh year in the navy, last two as a Lieutenant of one of their finest special operators, a SEAL.

But, what happened to him only forty eight hours ago might just be the end of all he worked so hard to achieve during all those years. He might lose his life.

Which was why Frank was on his way to Aaron Burkhardt. Lexi had made a quick call and the surgeon had promised to meet him at the airport. He would take a look at Joe’s records and they would make their visit to the hospital together. Frank didn’t know what he had done to deserve friends like that, the ones who would drop everything in their lives to come to his and his brother’s aid. He is immensely grateful nevertheless for the fact that he did.

……..

They were kindly but firmly told that they weren’t allowed to see the patient just yet, his condition was still unstable and was under constant supervision. Frank was sure they got as much information they could, including a copy of Joe’s recent chart, only due to the charming, yet insisting presence of the towering neurosurgeon.

“They just confirmed what I told you when I saw the records, Frank,” Aaron said, dropping heavily onto the seat next to Frank in the waiting area.  “He hasn’t woken up yet, not even once. And the swelling shows no sign of going down. It doesn't look good.”

Frank could only nod at his friend's words. He wasn't sure he could get any words out without dissolving into sobs. He kept breathing deeply and evenly, his gaze fixed on a spot on the tiled floor of the waiting area of the intensive care unit.  

“They won’t let anyone in to see him. Not yet.”

“Is there anything we can do here, Aaron?” Frank asked after a long while. He couldn’t just wait here to be told that his brother had passed without even having the chance to see him at least. He just couldn’t.

“There is,” Aaron said, slowly, carefully, making Frank turn his gaze towards his friend fully. “But, only if you have the right to make decisions as his power of attorney.”

“I do,” Frank said, curious as to why his friend sounded…reluctant.

“You do?” Aaron repeated, with a raised brow. “Not the navy? I thought the military usually took the lead in cases of injuries on duty.”

“They do,” Frank explained. “But they couldn’t treat him in the cruiser and they couldn’t arrange a transit home in his condition. The moment they transferred him to port, the authority regarding his medical decisions fell to me.”

“That's a good call on his part,” Aaron nodded. “To have it arranged to be you.”

“It was one of my conditions,” Frank admitted with a wry smile. “He agreed just to make me back off,”

“He’s lucky to have a brother like you.”

“It’s mutual,” Frank sighed. “Tell me what my options are here, Aaron.”

Instead of answering, his friend stood up and gathered his jacket. “We are going to find a place to stay the night and then I'm taking you back to Dresden tomorrow first thing in the morning,” he said, confusing Frank.

“Aaron–”

“I know you'd rather be near him,” He cut Frank's protest off gently. “But, right now, you can't help him. What can potentially help him is in my office, and I can't talk about it here.”

The enigmatic man didn’t divulge anything further than that cryptic comment no matter how much Frank nagged and cajoled. As promised, he did find two suites for them at The Fontenay to spend the night in luxury. The next day, they left the hotel after an early breakfast in a rental, and made it to the Gustav University Medical Centre where Aaron Burkhardt led the neurosurgery department.

………..

“I understand that the concept falls somewhere in the ethically grey area,” Aaron sipped his coffee and broke the silence as Frank stared at the screen on his friend’s laptop. “Not because there’s any question whether it works, because it does. Just that it hasn't been approved for the next stage in clinical trials yet.”

Frank blinked, looking up at his friend. He knew that the confidence he displayed wasn’t arrogance. He was only stating a fact. Aaron Burkhardt was a bona fide genius in dual fields and this thing that stared back at him - this concept that went beyond anything he had ever even imagined - had the potential ability to save his brother's life. It boggled his mind that this invention was a branching ripple of the concept of the project that now resided back in the basement of the Central Intelligence Agency.

“Tell me more.” Frank whispered, grabbing onto the silver of hope his friend presented with both his hands.

“The chip uses the same data storing concept of Spearhead,” Aaron explained. “The programming meshes into biosynthetic hardware. Now, this new base can be used without an issue, it went through the final approvals just last year,” he said excitedly, warming up to the subject. “The problem is with bonding organic matter and synthetics with the programming itself. This design of mine lets the chip connect to the brain and even grow to become a part of it. I know it sounds fantastical but it works.”

“Let me see if I got this,” Frank muttered. “You want to implant a microchip in my brother’s brain?”

“Exactly,” the neurosurgeon beamed. “There's still so many hidden abilities of the human brain and chemicals. We learn something new every day just by studying it. It is actually capable of integrating with an external storage device such as this to save itself. Survival instinct at its finest.” 

“How is this going to help him survive losing a chuck of his brain?” 

It was the first time he put words to the extent of Joe’s injuries. He had to swallow hard to keep back the bile he could feel burning his throat. Now that the words were out, all his fears about Joe came rushing back to the surface, reminding him that he was on the verge of losing his brother for good.

“We can replace the parts he lost due to head trauma with the chip, Frank,” his friend said gently. “It’s organic parts are capable of adapting and expanding its mass. The injury left space inside his skull for it to grow and I can develop it into a point to speed up the process even. Within six months, his brain functions will be restored back to a guaranteed 98.9%. If it worked.”

“If it worked,” Frank repeated numbly. He was having a hard time wrapping his head around what his friend was telling him.

“There’s always the chance that the body would reject the new addition.” 

“What else could go wrong here, Aaron?” Frank pressed. His friend was talking about a wholly new level of brain surgery. And, as was the case with any new invention, it was bound to have a plethora of bugs, mistakes and side effects. “Give me all of it.”

“Well, he might experience some memory loss,” Aaron said. “The chip can complete his brain but it can't retrieve lost data. He might have side effects such as headaches or seizures, which would become apparent within the first month of the implant. But those can be corrected with minor surgeries and adjusting the programming of the processors.” 

Frank waited for the rest of it. But Aaron kept drinking his coffee, staring at Frank expectantly. 

“That's it?”

Frank’s utter incredulity made him smirk. “I’m a genius after all, Frank. You didn't think I would design something faulty, did you?”

Frank couldn't believe that that was all there was to it. It sounded almost too good to be true. At this point, the legalities didn't even make an appearance in his thought process. All he cared about was saving Joe’s life.

“But what's the catch?” he demanded. “Because this all sounds too good to be true.”

“Yes, the catch,” his friend shrugged, still smiling. “There are several. For one, it’s not approved yet, so it's illegal,” he sounded remarkably calm about it, as if it was a negligible concern. “The second, the board of directors of Gustav, HPE and GTN are still negotiating about the property rights, because my design involves all three of them coming together to make it work–”

“GTN?”

“Yeah, they own the biosynthetic base I have to use for the chip,” he explained.

“How long is it going to take for you to make it?”

“Oh, it was already made about five months ago,” Aaron said. “There's three of them in storage, I've been running tests, improving the overall efficiency of it all this time.”

“But you just said–”

“The talks are about the shares and market prices and profits, Frank,” said Aaron. “They know it works. It’s the new revolution of the field of brain surgery. But they are not doctors. They are not concerned about the brilliance of the concept or the number of lives we could save. They are all about the money.”

Frank could understand that. His own project would have had the same issues if it weren’t for the extensive and largely undisclosed budget of his agency. 

“So how are we going to make this happen in reality if we did decide to do it?”

“Well, I was thinking you could transfer your brother here. I could take over as his primary care physician and then do a surgery for the implant. Then I’d keep him here on an extended stay to make sure everything works as they should.”

He made it sound so simple. Frank still couldn't even begin to comprehend the process. 

“I’m not… I can't even–” he tried to put words to his disbelief and failed. 

“It’s overwhelming, I know,” Aaron nodded. “And the biggest catch would be the secrecy. If we go through with it, only you and I can ever know about it,” he admitted. “Not even Joe can know. We can just let it be known that the genius saved the day again because I'm that good,”

“And humble about it too,” Frank muttered, shaking his head.

Aaron chuckled. “I can even make it spin that I did some innovative grey matter grafting,” he shrugged, closing his laptop back. “The chip will be integrated into his brain within the first twelve days and it won't be visible to any scans. So you don't have to worry about it being found. And the other thing is, I’ll be able to keep everything under wraps until such time. That’s about it.”

“What’s it to you?” It was a valid question. His friend’s suggestion could very well end up in costing him his medical license. Or worse, he could end up in prison. Their friendship went way back and Frank trusted him. But he just couldn’t believe that  Aaron would gamble his career and life away just to help Frank’s dying brother out.

“Why, Frank,” Aaron said with another proud smile. There was a predatory gleam in his green eyes that wasn’t there a moment ago. “I want the very thing any inventor wants to witness. That’s the moment their invention comes to life before their eyes.”

Now that Frank could believe. That confidence and self satisfaction he could clearly see in his friend's expression was genuine. He had seen it a few times during their shared time back in the university days.

“I know you're going to have to think it through,” Aaron said, breaking the silence that had fallen between them while Frank contemplated the unbelievable offer. 

“It's a big decision and it's harder because you're making it for your brother, not yourself. But right now, your brother’s scale is leaning towards death, and this is a shot at life we could give him.”

Put like that, it seemed like the easiest decision he had ever made in his life. Except, did it really give him the right to play God - or let his friend play God - to potentially alter his brother’s life like that? He truly did not know. 

“Yeah,” he murmured softly. “But at what cost, Aaron?”

“It’s up to you to decide my friend,” he replied just as quietly. “Because your brother can’t speak for himself right now.”

Wasn’t that the crux of the matter? Joe wasn’t in any position to do anything for himself. He was in a coma, lying on a bed in an intensive care unit with a number of machines hooked up to him to keep him alive.

Frank thought about the entire thing for the rest of the day, lying flat on his back on the bed in his hotel room, staring at a dusty ceiling. No matter how many reasons and justifications he mentally listed in pro and con columns, he couldn’t make up his mind.

The thought of doing nothing and letting his brother succumb to his injuries paralyzed him with terror. He could not imagine living in a world without his other half. Even the slightest contemplation of the idea made his heartbeat pick up the speed in an uneven rhythm. What Aaron gave him was a chance. One last throw of dice. If it worked as advertised, not only would his brother live, but he would be able to continue as before, without any permanent debilitating after effects. If it didn’t, it wasn’t as if they could have made his condition worse. Joe was already teetering at the extreme edge of life anyway.

But, he was equally scared of the ramifications he would have to face down the line if this miracle worked. He wasn’t even bothered about the legality of it. He would gladly take the blame and punishment for it if it meant that Joe got to walk out of this alive at the end of the day. What scared him was what Joe would say or feel if he ever found out. Would he be appalled? Would he demand the implant be taken off? Would it change him in some fundamental way or his personality? Would he be fine with it?

Then again, according to Aaron, this was going to have to be a secret that Frank took with him to his grave if they decided to go ahead. So the chances of Joe finding out about it were almost non-existent.

In the end, none of his reasoning, trepidations or fears didn't matter. The call he received from the General Hospital in Hamburg late that night, made the decision for him.