Hardy Detective Agency featuring Hardy Boys Fan Fiction

It had been over two hours since Joe had been admitted to the hospital, and still, there was no news. Frank was worriedly pacing the floor of the waiting room, Vanessa and Callie were fighting back tears as they sat side by side in hard plastic chairs, and Fenton was sitting in a chair, his face buried in his cupped hands.

Suddenly he stood up. “I can’t believe it,” he said. Frank looked at his father and managed a weak smile. “It’ll be alright, Dad. Joe’ll be okay. He’s been in scrapes before. He’s been in the hospital many times.”

“Maybe so, son, but never from a bullet. Frank—he was shot! And I could have—should have—prevented it. Frank—even shoulder wounds can be fatal sometimes. If Joe doesn’t—I mean, if he—well, I’ll never forgive myself.”

Frank felt tears fill his eyes as he said, “Dad, it wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. Black was deranged. Mental. Angry. It had nothing to do with you.”

“Yeah, Mr. Hardy,” Vanessa put in. “You’re the best father anyone could ask for. Joe knows that. And trust me, he won’t blame you.”

Seeing his father fall to pieces like this was something Frank never thought possible. He was about to say something to help him, but before he could, a tall, skinny woman in a nurse’s uniform came into the room. “Fenton Hardy?”

Fenton, Frank, Vanessa, and Callie all jumped up. “How is Joe?” Frank demanded.

“Hold on,” the nurse said. “Let’s go into my office so I can explain the situation to you.”

Once they were all seated in the office, the nurse, who’s nametag read “Shirley”, said, “Now, about Joe.” She paused for a moment, looking each person in the eye. “Okay, I suppose I should just come out with it. Things aren’t looking too great for Joe right now.”

“What?” Fenton said.

“But I thought it was just a minor shoulder wound,” Frank sputtered. “That’s what the paramedics said when the ambulance—“

“I know,” Shirley admitted. “That’s what they thought. But when the bleeding wouldn’t stop, we realized that the bullet hit a major blood vessel in his shoulder. He is bleeding internally as well as externally. On top of that, the places where he was cut by the knife and the rope burns have become infected, as well as the bullet wound. He is running a fever of 104.6 at this very moment. He has multiple bruises, and has a slight concussion. He has yet to regain consciousness. I believe that with the right treatment, he will pull through just fine.”

Fenton had turned a ghastly shade of green, while all the color had drained out of Frank’s face. Silent tears rolled down the girls’ cheeks.

“When can we see him?”

“He’s in ICU right now. Only family members are allowed to visit right now. I’m sorry, girls.”

“It’s all right,” Vanessa managed to say. “Callie and I will just wait.”

“No you won’t,” Frank countered. “You girls must be exhausted. You go back to the hotel and get some rest. You can come back to the hospital tomorrow morning.”

They reluctantly agreed.

“Oh, Mr. Hardy, there’s one more thing,” Shirley said. “The bullet is buried deep within Joe’s flesh. It is impossible to remove without surgery, but we can’t operate until he has regained consciousness.”

“Okay.”

Soon Frank and Fenton were being led to room 234, in ICU. A large sign said “Joe Hardy” outside the door. Hearts pounding, father and son gently pushed the door open and stepped inside. Frank’s heart nearly stopped as he saw his baby brother lying motionless on the hospital bed, an IV beeping loudly beside him. A heart monitor was beside the bed. Joe’s face was ghostly pale. His wrists and ankles were bandaged. Large welts and bruises stood out profusely all over his unmoving body, and there was a huge knot on the back of his head.

“Son,” Fenton whispered, striding forward and grasping his youngest son’s hand. Frank followed, his vision blurring with unshed tears.

There was a silent fight over who was going to stay with Joe. When Frank pleaded solemnly with his father, tears streaming down his face, Fenton finally gave in.

“All right,” he said. “But just for tonight.”

Frank sat in a chair by his brother’s bed, and placed his hand on Joe’s forehead. He instantly drew it back, appalled by the burning feeling that reached his hand. At that moment, the heart monitor started beeping crazily. The lines started moving up and down randomly. Then, to Frank’s horror, the readings shut down completely.

He leapt across the room and pressed the call button. A nurse ran in almost instantly. “The heart monitor stopped its readings! There’s nothing but a flat line here!”

The nurse reached over and pressed an emergency button. Several doctors raced into the room.

“What does it mean?” Frank asked, frantic.

A doctor stood up from the heart monitor machine, her eyes clouding with tears. “I’m so sorry to tell you this, Frank,” she said, “but your brother is dead.”

Oh no! Can it be true? Stay tuned and find out in chapter thirteen!

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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.