OK so nothing was posted on my account for a super long time because there was a tornado and the power went out and then the charter was out too so that sucked.

Summary: Joe is killed by an ex-soldier while working on a case and the family falls to pieces. Side of a Bullet by Nickelback songfic. Rated T for murder, suicide, armed robbery, angst, death, dying, and some blood and stuff. It might be a one shot, maybe a two shot, or possibly even a three shot.

Side of a Bullet

Fenton P.O.V.

Uncle Sam taught him to shoot

Maybe a little too well

Finger on the trigger, loaded bullet

He hit the stage so full of rage

And let the whole world know it

Six feet away, they heard him say

"Oh God, don't let him pull it"

Smith had been a soldier for Christ's sake! But he had turned on his country and shot a seventeen year old boy who was trying to keep him from killing innocent people. Frank and I had heard a nearly silent prayer slip from Joe's lips as he leapt in front of a loaded gun with the safety off that was only six feet away for his heart.

Please God, don't let him pull it

How could you put us through it?

His brother watched you do it

Frank had tried to stop him. He clung to the material that had ripped off of Joe's worn out jacket as he leapt in front of a man in his early thirties who was trying to keep his eight year old daughter and pregnant wife behind him.

How could you take his life away? (What makes you think you have the right?)

How could you be so full of hate? (To take away somebody's life)

Frank and I froze for a split second as the deafening crack of the gun went off and Joe dropped to the ground. Then they rushed towards the heroic young Hardy and hoped that the bullet hadn't pierced anything major. Frank cradled his brother's head in his lap as I ripped of my denim jacket and held it to his chest, trying to ignore how quickly blood soaked through it. Joe's eyes were hazy and his words were slurred as he spoke, "Luuv… ya… Frankie." Then the hand that Frank had been clutching desperately relaxed and his body went limp. Tears surged to Frank's eyes.

And when I heard you let him die

And made the world all wonder why

I sat at home and on my own, I cried alone, and scratched your name

On the side of a bullet

I didn't speak to anyone as the body of my son was taken away from his sobbing brother. As soon as we got home I locked myself in my office and tried to ignore the silence that lingered over the house without Joe there to break it. I couldn't help but expect him to come bursting in with a huge grin on his face as he explained some clever trick that he had used to save himself and then he'd hand me the leftovers of a pizza that he and Chet had shared. A chocked sob escaped from my lips as I collapsed in my chair which rolled a few inches. Tears blurred my vision as I clumsily fished out a single bullet from a box in my desk. I sat alone, crying and scratching his name into the side of a bullet.

And in the wake of his mistake

So many lives are broken

Gone forever from a loaded bullet

And no excuse that you could use

Could pull somebody through it

And to this day so many say

"God why'd you let him do it?"

Frank and I started questioning God after what had happened. Why would God let something so horrible happen to such a wonderful person? It wasn't fair. Laura prayed constantly, but Frank and I never did. If she prayed before a meal we would just sit and stare into each other's hollow eyes wait for her to stop. She sent Frank to two or three different therapist every week, but nothing helped. Frank was just too depressed without his lighthearted little brother. Barely a month after it happened we found Frank face down on the floor with a bullet in his head and a slip of paper with the words I'm sorry written on it clenched in his fist. Later I realized that he had shot himself with my gun using one of the bullets I had scratched Smith into. In my mind, Smith had killed both of my sons.

How could you let him do it?

How could you put us through it?

His brother watched you do it.

How could you take his life away? (What makes you think you have the right?)

How could you be so full of hate? (To take away somebody's life)

And when I heard you let him die

And made the world all wonder why

I sat at home and cried alone, and on my own,

and scratched your name,

On the side of a bullet.

Laura left me less than a month later. My life became a void of numbness, both of my sons were dead and my wife had left me. I didn't even work cases anymore, I didn't do anything anymore. I lived like a hermit, talking to no one and scratching the name 'Smith' into bullets. Finally, after what had felt like an eternity in Hell it was Joe's eighteenth birthday. Or it would've been. He had been looking forward to spending time with Frank and Vanessa, having a party, and finally becoming an adult. Tears streamed from my eyes as I remembered the joyful expression that would light up Joe's face at the mere mention of his birthday. He hadn't planned on spending it six feet under. Oh God, this hurt so much. I had reached my breaking point. This was just too much.

How could you take his life away? (What makes you think you have the right?)

How could you be so full of hate? (To take away somebody's life)

And when I heard you let him die

And made the world all wonder why

I sat at home and cried alone, and on my own

and scratched your name

On the side of a bullet

On the side of a bullet

On the side of a bullet

On the side of a bullet

Clumsily, I loaded one of the many bullets with the name 'Smith' on it and closed my eyes. I held the gun to my temple and pulled the trigger.

The End

So here's a brief summary. Joe dies, Frank kills himself, Laura leaves Fenton, and Fenton kills himself on Joe's birthday. Everybody dies or leaves and there is no happy ending.