Hardy Detective Agency featuring Hardy Boys Fan Fiction

It wasn't until a day later that Joe was ready to give his statement to the police. He still looked pale and drawn, and he tired easily, but the doctor had assured the Hardys that Joe was healing quickly and could be expected to be released from the hospital before the end of the week.

As Con settled himself into the chair by Joe's bedside with his notepad, Frank watched his brother's face apprehensively. Joe looked calm enough, though the telltale fidgety movements he could not quite control gave away his inner nervousness at the prospect of recounting his ordeal.

Neither Fenton nor Frank had pushed Joe for any details of what happened after he was taken by Ribera and Scala, each wanting to spare the youngest Hardy from having to relive the harrowing experience any more than necessary. But from the nightmares that his brother had been experiencing, and the glimpses of fear that would suddenly haunt his brother's eyes, Frank could only guess at the horrors that had been inflicted on his brother while he had been held captive.

Feeling his own palms clammy and cold with trepidation, Frank wasn't sure if he was ready to hear Joe's story, but there was no way that he would abandon his brother at a time like this. He reminded himself that Joe had lived through every minute of his ordeal. The least that he could do was find out for himself the details of that ordeal, distressing as they might be, so that he could give his brother the proper support should Joe need it. And from the way that his sleep had been plagued by nightmares, Frank knew without a doubt that his brother needed his support.

Their mother, thankfully, had declined to sit in on this occasion. Frank was uncertain whether Laura had decided to spare herself hearing the horrid details of her son's detainment, or whether she had been persuaded, either by her husband or Joe himself, to absent herself from what promised to be an unpleasant experience.

Frank's thoughts were suddenly interrupted by Con's quiet voice addressing his brother. "I don't want you to exert yourself in any way. So if you are tired, let me know and we can continue this another time, okay, Joe?"

Joe nodded. "I'll be fine. I just want to get this over with in one shot if I can. Not really something that I want to go over and over again."

"All right, then, let's get started. Just go ahead and tell us what happened that day."

Again, Joe nodded but it was nearly a full minute before the words started coming from him and he kept his eyes glued to his own hands, twisting and untwisting the blanket that covered him.

He spoke quietly, and with little emotion, of all that happened from the time he left the school on that fateful day, stopping periodically to take sips from the glass of water that Frank kept replenished. The other three occupants of the room listened without interruptions.

It wasn't until he reached the part where Scala began using the knife on him that Joe's composure began to crack. Taking a large gulp of water, he swallowed a little too quickly which resulted in a bout of harsh and painful coughing. Fenton carefully sat down on the bed and patted his son's heaving back soothingly.

"Just take it easy, Joe. Take all the time you need," Fenton said gently.

"Sorry," Joe gasped. He looked at his father with misery plain on his face. "This is harder than I thought."

"I know, son," Fenton nodded with sympathy. "Do you want to take a small break?"

"Sure, Joe, I can go and grab myself a coffee and come back in a little while," Con offered quickly.

Joe hesitated and then shook his head resolutely. "No, I just want to get this over with."

Taking in a deep, shaky breath, he continued, though his voice dropped lower and lower until it was a bare whisper when he told of how Scala had pushed the knife into his thigh, inch by agonizing inch.

Suddenly, Frank shot up from his chair with enough force to send it crashing to the floor, and quickly made his way to the window, his back turned to the other three. Joe stopped in mid-sentence and stared at his brother's unresponsive back, his lips trembling with barely contained emotions.

"Frank?" his voice was uncertain, scared.

Frank gripped the windowsill until his knuckles turned white and bloodless from the pressure. Blood pounded and roared in his head, and anger of an intensity that frightened even himself coursed through his body, leaving it trembling and shaking like some hapless leaf in a storm.

"Frank?" Joe ventured again and this time, there was a hint of tears in the tremulous voice.

Frank drew in a steadying breath and forced back his emotions with a Herculean effort. "Sorry, Joe, go on and finish what you were saying."

Joe looked with uncertainty from his brother's aloof back to his father's concerned face. Fenton gave him a small, reassuring smile. "Go on, son. It's almost over."

Joe swallowed with an effort, his eyes straying briefly to his brother before he resumed the retelling of his nightmare.

When it was at last over, Joe laid back against the bed with closed eyes, feeling completely drained with exhaustion and spent emotions. Clutching at his blankets, he shuddered uncontrollably as the dark fears once again assaulted his mind and body, and he was taken back to the dark, oppressive dungeon of the basement where he had been certain that he would breathe his last.

Suddenly he felt arms encircling his trembling form, and the familiar, sturdy presence of his brother cut through the debilitating fog of fear.

"Frank?" he ventured uncertainly, fearful to open his eyes.

"I'm here, little brother. I'm here. It's all right now. You are safe. They can't hurt you not any more, not ever." The last words were spoken with a dark vehemence that overshadowed the concern.

Unabashedly, Joe clung desperately to his older brother. "I was scared, more scared than I had ever been." He gripped his brother's shirt. "I knew they wouldn't let me live, but I was more scared of what else they would do to me. I didn't know where he would cut me next."

He could feel Frank's arms tighten around him. "They won't touch you again. They each got a bullet to the back of their heads, an easier death than they deserved, but they will never hurt you or anyone else again. You are safe."

Joe nodded and slowly let his body relax into his brother's comforting hold. Several minutes later, he straightened and shakily took the glass of water that Frank handed him, taking small sips. It was only then that he realized he was alone with his brother. He wondered where his father and Con had gone to, but felt too tired to ask.

"You okay now?" Frank asked, his face tight with concern.

"Yeah, I think so," Joe said, his voice still a little shaky. "I didn't think it would affect me so much."

Frank pressed his lips into a hard thin line. "You went through hell, little brother. Your reaction is perfectly natural."

Joe looked at him nervously. "What happened to you, Frank? When I was telling the part --, you know."

Frank stared down at his own hands and forced himself to relax his clenched fists.

"I was angry," he replied shortly.

"At me?" Joe's voice was hesitant.

Frank shook his head almost violently. "No, at those animals, what they did to you. I swear, if they weren't already dead, I would go after them, and cut them the way they did you."

Joe stared at his older brother, his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open. After a moment, he shook his head. "No, you wouldn't. That's not your style, Frank."

Frank snapped up his head and regarded his brother through narrowed eyes. "You don't know what I'm capable of, Joe."

Joe continued to stare at his brother and saw something in the dark eyes that he did not recognize. He shivered, suddenly realizing he was seeing a part of his older brother that he never knew existed. It was a chilling realization, but he felt absurdly reassured as well. His older brother would always be his protector, no matter what might befall him. It was something that he intended to accept without question or doubt.

Frank took Callie's hand and they slipped quietly, unnoticed from the hospital room.

"Think they'll miss us?" Callie asked with a mischievous grin.

"The way they are carrying on in there, nah!" Frank laughed, shaking his head.

"I wonder what the hospital regulation is when it comes to pizza in the sick room," Callie mused to herself. "Not to mention some very rowdy and boisterous boys whooping it up."

"That's why I am not hanging around to get booted out," Frank grinned. "There's a nice sitting area on the top floor of this hospital. We can snatch a few minutes of privacy and peace up there."

"What do you have in mind, Frank Hardy?" Callie tilted her head at her boyfriend.

"Nothing!" Frank protested innocently. "It's just that I've been neglecting you the past few days and I want to make up for it."

"Hmm, neglecting me? I'm glad you are acknowledging that, at least," Callie said. "Okay, lead the way. I'm game."

Callie sat back in an overstuffed chaired and sighed. "It is nice up here. How did you find it?"

"It's used mostly by the staff, but Joe managed to get one of the nurses to divulge this secret. Even got her to wheel him up here for a change of scenery."

"That's Joe, all right," Callie laughed. "He gets everyone wrapped around his little finger."

Frank looked away briefly. "Yeah, well, he did go through a lot."

Callie reached over and gripped one of his hands. "He seems to be doing fine. Like I said before, Joe's one resilient guy. He'll come through this with flying colours. Don't tell him I said that though."

Frank frowned. "You don't know the details of what they did to him. He still wakes up at night, screaming from the nightmares."

Callie's hand tightened on his. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"It's not stuff for sensitive ears," Frank said.

"Let me decide that," Callie said.

So Frank related to her what Joe had told them, that day when Con had come to take his statement. Callie listened attentively, and without interruptions.

When he at last finished, Frank looked at her. "So you see, Joe might look and act as if he's gotten over the whole thing, but he's still plagued by nightmares, and who can blame him? Man, I'd get nightmares too if I went through what he did."

"Those creeps are lucky that they're dead," Callie spat out venomously, the ferocity of her voice startling Frank. He had not seen this feral side of her before.

He smiled at her. "I didn't know you could get so worked up. Remind me not to get on the wrong side of you."

"What they did to Joe was barbaric. He's only a kid, for crying out loud," Callie growled.

"You're not much older than he is," Frank reminded.

"I don't care how old he is, but he'll always be a kid to me, and don't try to tell me that you feel differently either. I know you, Frank Hardy," Callie said shortly.

Frank let out a long breath. "You're right. Sometimes I think you're the only one who really knows me."

Callie leaned her head against his shoulder. "And that's the way it should be."

After a long moment, Callie said. "Joe will be fine, don't worry. The nightmares will go away and he'll be himself in no time, and ready to get into a whole new set of trouble."

"Actually, we had a talk about that. I think he's learned his lesson this time," Frank said.

Callie snorted. "We'll see about that. We're talking about Joe here."

"No, I really think he's learned something this time. He came that close to dying, Callie. That does something to a person, you know."

Callie nodded rather reluctantly. "I hope you're right, Frank, if only for the sake of our continued sanity."

Frank drew her into his arms and buried his face in her hair. "Hey, with you and I both breathing down his neck, the bad guys will think twice before they dare to lay a finger on him."

Callie laughed. "The trouble is, Joe doesn't always need bad guys to get into trouble. He does it quite well on his own."

"He's promised to cut out some of his recklessness, so we'll just have to wait and see. Hey, did you know that Dad was pretty impulsive too when he was young?"

Callie pulled back and gaped at her boyfriend. "Your dad? You've got to be kidding!"

Frank grinned. "Yup, so maybe there's hope for Joe yet."

Callie shook her head unbelievingly. "Wonders never cease, but what do you expect from a Hardy?"

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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.