Hardy Detective Agency featuring Hardy Boys Fan Fiction

Frank laughed as his girlfriend wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him close. Classes had just let out for the day; Frank barely remembered them. He’d been distracted all day, searching the halls for his brother in between classes and at lunch—not to talk, just to observe. Observe him avoiding contact with those around him, ignoring people he would have said hi to before, pausing every chance he got to drink from the water fountain, taking so long that people waiting began to complain.

“I’m serious, babe,” Callie murmured, “you seem so down.”

“I’m okay.” He sighed and hugged her back, feeling relieved, if only for the moment. “Just a little worried.”

Callie nodded as she pulled away. “Joe again?”

“Joe again.”

“What’d he do now?”

Frank looked away, wishing he could erase the mental image of his brother’s emaciated back, the bent shoulders, his older brother’s shirt draping loosely over his slender frame.

“Frank?”

Frank? You all right?

“Are you okay?”

I…need…nevermind…

“I’m…just…yeah.”

Callie raised her eyebrows. “That was convincing.”

“I’m sorry baby,” the elder Hardy sighed, running a hand through his hair. He hadn’t even been able to argue with his brother last night, couldn’t comprehend it, how frail he was becoming, how resistant to anyone’s advice, how ignorant of their feelings. He’d gone to his room, sat on the bed, picked up his pen and, with a trembling hand, scrawled one last sentence: Joe is becoming emaciated. But today had been a different story.

He needed to hear it. And I need everyone to start policing him with me.

“Did you argue again at dinner?”

Frank nodded. “Mom and Dad are on his back too. And Aunt Gertrude’s coming this weekend, thinks she can help.”

Callie bit her lip. “Do you think she can? Your Aunt can be a little…harsh at times, I guess.”

“You’re telling me?”

Callie laughed, then touched her boyfriend’s arm gently. “Think he’d come out if we asked him instead?”

“No.”

Her expression softened; she touched her boyfriend’s cheek.

“I’m sorry baby. I wish I knew what to say. How to help.”

“You’re doing it,” Frank sighed, bending to kiss her cheek.

“Why don’t we hang out this weekend, the two of us, watch a movie or something, get your mind off things.”

“I have a paper due Monday, plus Aunt Gertrude will be around. How about next week?”

“Sounds good. I get to pick the movie.”

“I thought this was to cheer me up—“

“By spending time with me silly.”

“I see.”

“I’ve got to go. Call me tonight?”

“Sure thing.”

“And try not to worry too much.”

“Will do.”

“Or work too hard. Aren’t you going home?”

“No, the library. That way I can give Joe a ride home after practice and work on my paper.”

“The proverbial one bird, two stones.”

“Um…”

“Was that backwards?”

“Think so.”

She laughed, kissed him goodbye, and went off down the hall. Frank turned to his locker, gathered his books, and made his way to the first floor library, walked down the third aisle, and began scanning the covers, realizing after a few minutes that he hadn’t even read the essay question yet.

You’re losing it Hardy. Get a grip, you’re not doing anyone any good falling apart worrying.

But even as he thought it and made his way to one of the tables he was shaking his head at himself, knowing it was useless; he’d always been protective of his younger brother, looked out for him, tried to hold him back when he’d gotten too wild. And his feeling was reciprocated: Joe watched out for Frank, forced him away from his books and computer, made him laugh and have fun, knew just what to say and do to make him feel better. The brothers took each other’s advice seriously. They disagreed—their personalities were too different not to—but never ignored one another’s feelings or opinions, wanting to avoid fighting at all costs. Neither one did very well when arguing with the other.

I don’t want a fight, Joe, don’t you get it, don’t you see—

“Frank.”

The elder Hardy spun around, startled by the voice behind him: a grave looking Chet, wearing a t-shirt and sweatpants, stood close behind him.

“Hey,” Frank smiled. “You startled me. Aren’t you supposed to be at practice?”

“I was.”

The smile slowly faded from Frank’s face as he saw how pale his friend was. “Chet? What’s wrong?”

“It’s Joe,” the boy said slowly. Frank felt his heart pick up speed.

“Joe…”

“He collapsed, Frank. They need you in the gym.”

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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.