Hardy Detective Agency featuring Hardy Boys Fan Fiction

Joe didn’t bother turning over as the edge of the bed sank in. He’d known it was his brother before he spoke; sensed him, felt his eyes, his concern. Felt his own shame, knowing Frank was only doing what he thought was best, was trying to look out for and protect his younger brother as he always had.

But you’re wrong this time, Frank. You’re wrong, and look what you’ve done, you’ve gotten me in so much trouble…

“How are you feeling?”

The younger Hardy pulled the sheet closer, trying to inch away without his brother noticing.

“Fine.”

An awkward pause as Frank waited for more, realized what was happening, and sighed.

“Joe—”

“Don’t touch me,” Joe snapped, sensing his brother’s hand reaching for his shoulder.

“Look, I know, you’re mad. I said some things, you said some things…but you couldn’t honestly have expected me to not help you after finding that bottle, after finding you on the floor like that. What did you expect me to do?”

“Listen to me. You always have, no matter what’s going on , no matter what other people think. Why is that different now? Why is everything so different now?”

“Nothing’s different between us,” Frank said quickly. “You and I are still friends, and I still listen to and take into consideration everything you say. But Joe, I’m scared. You’re scaring me. And right now I just don’t think I can trust your judgment about yourself. You’re not thinking clearly, brother.”

“So you’re on their side,” Joe said, fighting to keep his voice calm when he suddenly felt like crying or screaming or both. Joe knew that Frank rarely denied him anything he really needed; and he desperately needed to be at home, away from this hospital, away from the doctors and the set meals and the supplements he knew were coming.

“This isn’t about sides,” Frank said gently, resting a hand on his brother’s shoulder despite the earlier protest. “But if I had to pick one, brother, there’s no contest. I’m always on yours. You know that. What I’m not on is this disease’s. It’s like you have cancer or something, Joe. I’m here for you, to support and help, but I’m not going to advocate anything that damages your health. If you had cancer and didn’t want chemo I’d listen to your explanation and respect your opinion, but if all your doctors and Mom and Dad and I felt that your only option was chemo, I’d have to ask you to do the chemo, although I know it wouldn’t be your first choice.”

“And if I didn’t have cancer?” Joe shot. “Would you make me do it anyway?”

The elder Hardy sighed. “Joe,” he murmured, “you have an eating disorder. Your doctors know it, and Mom and Dad and Aunt Gertrude know it, our friends and Coach Finley and me, we all know it. We’re all worried, and we all want to help. It’s not like you’ve done anything wrong. You just need some help. We’ll all get you some help, you’ll see. It’ll be hard, but we’ll be here—”

“Frank, I can’t stand this!” Joe half-shouted, fighting to sit up and shaking loose of his brother’s gentle touch. “I can’t stand you all doing this to me! They’re going to lock me up here, do you know that? They’re forcing me on to a psyche ward and you’re just sitting back and letting them! What’s wrong with you? Why are you letting this happen? If this was some criminal, you’d never let them just lock me up against my will, why are you letting Mom and Dad?”

Frank swallowed, fighting hard not to be taken in by his brother’s pleading blue eyes. He wanted so badly to make his brother understand, to hear some sort of acceptance, and grudging agreement to treatment. Not more denial. And certainly not the belief that Frank had turned on him, he had only and was only looking out for the younger boy’s best interests.

“We’re not the criminal, bro,” the elder Hardy said gently, “it’s like…you’re already locked up behind this eating disorder, your symptoms, this denial, and getting you here is what’s going to let you out. Think Joe. Have I ever hurt you before? Have I ever done anything that I didn’t feel was in your best interests? Would all of us suddenly turn around and start hating and tricking you out of nowhere?”

Joe’s demeanor changed; he seemed to flinch at the word “hate” and look down at the sheet, his shoulders slumping slightly.

“It wouldn’t be out of nowhere,” he muttered.

“What?”

“Maybe you all just figured out what a pain I am,” the younger Hardy was almost whispering, his face turning red, refusing to look even near his brother. “Maybe you just want me out of the way for good.”

Frank felt his nerves jar; but they were getting somewhere, finally. “You can’t think that.”

The younger Hardy lay down and turned away.

“Look at me.”

Joe didn’t move. Frank reached out and rubbed his brother’s arm through the sheet.

“Joe…listen. I’m not trying to demean anything you’re thinking or feeling. But I want to let you know that if you really believe we’re all against you…well, that’s a pretty clear symptom of depression, kiddo. And depression and eating issues often go hand in hand. We can work on this, we can talk about it. It’s not true, you’ve got to know that, deep down you have to. I may have acted in ways that you don’t like. I may have made you go to the hospital, but I did those things out of a desire to help you, to take care of you, to get you to realize that you’re sick. Brother…you know me, better than anyone. We know each other better than anyone. We’re a team, right? Partners? Friends? Why would I suddenly change and start acting out of spite? Is that like me?”

Frank felt his brother begin to tremble beneath his hand and reached up to gently squeeze the bony shoulder. The younger Hardy rolled back toward his brother, his eyes wet, his face flushed.

“Don’t make me stay here,” he pleaded softly, not begging or whining; just imploring, hoping to appeal to the side of his brother who that would deny him nothing. “Don’t just…walk away and leave me to be here on my own.”

“I promise Joe, I will stand by you through this. I’ll come to every family therapy session. I’ll eat with you. When you’re better we can go for runs together again. You can stay healthy, and smaller than you were before if you want, but you need to put some weight back on. Just a little, just enough to make you healthy. I’ll be with you, okay? I’ll care about you no matter what you look like. None of that matters to us, okay? It’s who you are that’s important, and that won’t change.”

“But you won’t be here! Not on a day to day basis, not during meals, not at night. I’ll be facing all this on my own, facing a disease I don’t understand, that I don’t even have on a ward with crazy people! How could you think that was the best thing to do for me? You really believe that?”

“Yes,” Frank said firmly, “I do. Because we can’t help you, Joe. We don’t know how to help you. It’s not that we don’t want to, it’s just that this is out of our league. You need help, brother, real help, professionals, and they’ve agreed, and so I think that staying here for the next few weeks is the best thing to do. You won’t convince me otherwise.”

Joe stared at his brother for a minute, then set his jaw and turned away, pulling the sheet closer.

“You might as well go then,” he snapped, “since that’s the best thing to do.”

“Joe—”

“No, Frank, you’ve made your point.”

“Look, don’t be--”

“Frank,” Joe hissed, “go.”

“I--”

“Excuse me,” Dr. Ziv and several other personal came in, the Hardy parents behind them. “We’re going to transfer you down to our ward now.”

Frank looked from the doctors to his parents back to his younger brother. Knowing Joe wouldn’t accept his touch, he patted his arm quickly, before the boy had a chance to pull away. “We’ll talk later,” he murmured, “promise.”

Joe didn’t answer, and although the elder Hardy brother was reluctant to leave things unresolved, he knew there would be no convincing his younger brother; Joe had always been stubborn, and the illness was only making him more so. At least he was here, he was safe, he’d be getting help. And his brother would get some time to cool down, hopefully realize he’d have a problem, and they’d be able to work things out.

“It’ll be all right,” Frank murmured, rising and moving to stand with his parents.

Joe shut his eyes, feeling his chest hitch, for the first time in his life realizing that he was completely, utterly, on his own.

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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.