Hardy Detective Agency featuring Hardy Boys Fan Fiction

The house was empty when they got there. Frank wondered briefly where their mother was, but was more anxious about getting Joe into bed as quickly as possible. Joe must had been feeling pretty out of it as he submitted to Frank's fussing without protest, only asking for an additional blanket as he continued to shiver in his cocoon of duvet and comforter.

Frank's brows furrowed as he read the thermometer that he had just retrieved from his brother. "102.5, that's pretty high, Joe. Maybe we should get you to a doctor."

Joe shook his head slightly. "No, too tired to go anywhere. Just let me sleep."

"Don't sleep yet. I want you to take something for the fever and you should drink something as well. Hold on and I'll be right back," Frank ordered.

"Not going anywhere," Joe muttered tiredly and closed his eyes. He felt as if he could sleep for the next hundred years.

"Joe, sit up a bit and take these," Frank shook his brother gently.

"Wh-what?" Joe opened bleary eyes. "Sleep."

"You can sleep after you take these," Frank said patiently and helped his brother into a sitting position, feeling alarmed at how hot Joe's skin was though his brother continued to shiver.

As he watched his brother ease himself back onto the bed, Frank asked worriedly. "How are you feeling?"

The blue eyes cracked open briefly. "Tired, cold and I'm aching all over."

"The bruises?" Frank asked, wondering if Joe was referring to results of the rescue attempt.

"Those hurt too," Joe mumbled, closing his eyes. Within minutes, he was fast asleep.

Frank continued to stare at his brother for several moments, his brows tightly knitted with worry. Joe hardly ever got sick. He got banged up a lot, but sick, no, or at least, rarely. So it bothered him a great deal to see his brother so obviously ill.

He decided that he better try tracking down their mother and let her know what was happening. Their mother did not like being kept in the dark when it came to the wellbeing of her loved ones. Frank had learned that long ago and tried very hard to abide by her wishes. Joe, on the other hand, was a great believer of the notion of 'what she doesn’t know won't hurt her'. Someday, he should enlighten his little brother that their mother was not one to miss anything. Their father had more than once said that their mother was the real detective in the Hardy household. Joe had thought their father to be joking. Frank knew better.

When Frank finally got a hold of their mother, it was nearly an hour later. She had been visiting the art gallery with a friend and had her cell phone turned off. Once told of the details by Frank, Laura Hardy immediately went into action. Within minutes, she had arranged for Joe to see their family physician and instructed Frank to meet her at the medical clinic, bringing Joe with him.

Blurry with sleep and fever, Joe had not been cooperative and it took longer than Frank had liked to get him finally bundled into the van and on their way. Even then, Joe muttered and mumbled steadily under his breath about being roused from his warm bed.

"Waste of time," Joe complained. "Should have just let me sleep it off. Be fine after a nap."

Frank threw him a look and said patiently. "Your temperature is over 100°. It's not something that you will be able to sleep off."

"Making me go outside in this cold. I'll probably get pneumonia now," Joe continued to gripe.

"You'll get pneumonia if you don't let the doctor check you over," Frank said. "This shouldn't take too long. We'll have you back in your bed in no time."

Joe slumped back in his seat. "I hate being sick."

Frank laughed. "Not many people like being sick so don't think you're unique."

"It's getting too hot in here," Joe said, unzipping his jacket. "Turn down that heat."

"It's the fever," Frank said but turned the heat down anyway to placate him. He glanced at his brother who had his eyes closed. "Joe?"

"What?" Joe didn't even bother opening his eyes when he answered.

"You're not still mad at me, are you, over what happened yesterday?" Frank asked in a quiet voice.

Joe turned to him, blinking as if trying to remember why he was supposed to be mad at his brother. "About you telling me that I'm an unthinking idiot?"

Frank winced. "I didn't say that."

"Not in so many words," Joe said, remembering.

"Look, I'm sorry about the things I said to you yesterday. I -- I was angry," Frank admitted.

"At me?"

Frank shook his head. "No, more at myself, I think."

"Huh? I don't get it," Joe shook his head, wondering if the fever was affecting his hearing.

"The whole thing wouldn't have happened if I had come to pick you up, instead of going to the later movie and relying on Biff to get you," Frank said. "I should have been there."

"Frank, stop hogging all the blame. You're making me feel this high," Joe said. "Let's just forget it. We both lost it and said things we probably didn't mean." He glanced almost tentatively at his brother. "At least, I hope you didn't mean most of it, 'cause what you think of me matters, Frank. It matters a lot."

"Hey, little brother, the feeling is very mutual," Frank said, smiling at him. "I care what you think of me too, very much so."

Joe reached over and grasped Frank's hand on the steering wheel. "You are my big brother, Frank and I wouldn't have it any other way."

Frank gave the hot fingers a reciprocal squeeze. "Thanks, Joe."

They lapsed into companionable silence as Frank maneuvered the van through the mid-afternoon traffic. From time to time, Frank glanced over at his brother who had his eyes closed once more.

"Frank?" Joe suddenly spoke, startling the older Hardy.

"I thought you fell asleep," Frank said. "What is it?"

"How would you have reacted if you were me that night, if you had heard the scream?" Joe asked in a quiet voice.

Frank frowned, trying to come up with an appropriate response. "I don't know, Joe."

Joe opened his eyes and looked at his brother. "You wouldn't have ignored it, would you?"

Frank shook his head. "No, of course not."

"But you wouldn't have jumped in the way that I did, huh?"

"I probably would have taken a few precious seconds to appraise the situation first and see how I could best help the girl," Frank admitted truthfully.

"Sometimes a few seconds may be too late," Joe pointed out quietly.

"I know, it's a gamble," Frank said carefully. "But if you get yourself injured, or worse, killed, it's not going to help the person in trouble either. What you did was not wrong, Joe, but I just wish that you took self-preservation a little more seriously in situations like that. I don't like seeing you hurt."

"I don't like getting hurt either," Joe said. "And I am really not as reckless as you think. I just react to things instinctively. If I hesitate, the end results may be more disastrous."

Frank pressed his lips together, not really knowing how to respond to his brother's words.

There was a slight laugh from Joe. "Don't look so worried, Frank. I promise I'll try to be more careful the next time."

Frank forced a small smile and nodded. "That's all I can ask." He knew his brother meant what he had just said, but then Joe was Joe, who was guided, always, by his heart, and not by the conventional wisdom dictated by his head.

"Well, here we are. Zip up your jacket, Joe. You don't need to catch another chill," Frank said as he pulled the van to a stop in front of the medical building.

"Yes, Mom," Joe said, smiling, before he was overtaken by a bout of harsh coughing.

"Yes, well, the real mom is waiting inside for us, and probably worried half to death about her baby," Frank said.

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Disclaimer

The Hardy Boys belong to Simon and Schuster and the Stratemeyer Foundation. The Hardy Boys Fan Fiction authors of the Hardy Detective Agency have just borrowed them for an adventure or two. The authors promise to put the boys back when they are done with them. The authors do claim copyright to the original characters in this story. Please do not borrow original characters without express permission of the authors.