At last, the door to the waiting room opened and a Joe’s trauma doctor walked in. Fenton’s face lit up. "Dr Hudson."

Laura gently shook Frank’s shoulder. Frank’s eyes flew open and quickly got up.

"How-How is my son? Is he alright?" Fenton searched the doctor’s face anxiously, hoping for a glimmer of chance, hope. He found none. But he didn’t find himself hit with the crushing feeling of loss, either. The doctor looked worried, yes, but not defeated. But she hesitated a little before answering Fenton’s question, much to Frank’s fear.

"He’s alive." The Hardys let out unison sighs of relief.

"But barely," she said. "I understand he was in a very serious accident and further injuries were inflicted onto him…He had severe internal bleeding, he ruptured his spleen and there were some serious lacerations to his liver as well but thankfully, we managed to stop the bleeding in time. It was touch and go for a second, we nearly lost him twice in there-" Frank’s face blanched. The doctor saw his face and somehow managed to smile. "But your brother is a fighter. He wouldn’t give up easily. He broke a few ribs and punctured a lung that we were able to repair He had a few cracked ribs, one of them punctured his lungs."

"So can we see him?" Frank asked anxiously.

Dr Hudson hesitated again. "Your brother banged up his head pretty bad. He has a severe concussion and we had to relieve some of the pressure on his brain." She sighed. "He hasn’t woken up yet, but he’s in a private room in the ICU. You can go see him there."

They all hurried out of the room and followed the doctor out toward the intensive care unit. Frank’s heart pounded as he neared Joe’s bed, afraid of what he might see. What he saw made his eyes mist. Joe lay in the bed, a large bandage wound around his head, his badly bruised face partially hidden by the oxygen mask covering his nose, helping him breathe. Gauze bandaging wrapped around his body up till his neck, practically swallowing him in all its crude whiteness. A heart monitor blipped beside his bed, and Frank’s breath caught painfully in his throat. Joe’s heartbeat was frighteningly weak and fluttery.

"Is he-is he going to make it?" He whispered hoarsely.

"There’s no saying at this point. He’s in very critical condition. All we can do now is pray and hope he’ll pull through. " Dr. Hudson repeated Frank’s words and squeezed his hand gently, before leaving them quietly.

They kept vigil by Joe’s bedside, patiently waiting as Joe let out a shallow breath after another. The last hours finally caught up on Fenton and Laura and they finally snoozed in their chairs, never for one second letting go of Joe’s hands. Frank was the only who didn’t sleep. He couldn’t sleep. He couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away from his brother’s face, so pale. And so still.

Frank stared at the face he knew so well, at the brother he’d come to know and love for the past 17 years, at the brother who’d always been by his side, solving cases together, sharing lives together. But he didn’t know he had so much love for his brother in him, not until this moment. He was right. The dream WAS a premonition.

A teardrop fell and dropped onto Joe’s bed. Frank stared at the wet spot for a long, long time before reaching out his hand and fingered it, feeling a strong rush of dejavu rush through him as memories from his nightmare came crashing back, haunting him mercilessly. Joe’s heart stopping…Joe’s body jerking as electricity ran through him…the last final beep of the heart monitor…he remembered everything. And he was furious at himself for remembering it all so clearly.

How did this happen? He thought numbly. Two weeks ago, they were all having fun, and he was in his prime time of high school, getting selected to represent the state in the Chemistry quiz, and before that, the hiking vacation. True, it had been a disaster but it had brought the brothers closer, even closer than before. And then the exchange students came and everything changed. Frank seethed in fury. No. Don’t think about it. Don’t think about them. It’s over. He’s dead. She’s dead. But Joe’s not.

Right, Frank reminded himself. Joe’s still alive. And I’m going to make sure he stays that way. Frank grabbed hold of Joe’s upper arm and gave it a strong squeeze. Hang on, brother. I’m counting on you. Just hang on.

Selfishly, Frank disentangled Joe’s hand from his sleeping father’s grasp and held it in his own. He gripped it as hard as he could. It was cold to the touch. But Frank didn’t let it go; he gripped it even harder. There. Joe’s hand was getting warmer. He could feel it. He could feel Joe fighting.

Come on, Joe. You can do it.

Frank clasped both hands over Joe’s and shivered as a chill ran up his spine. Come on, Joe, he pleaded silently. That’s it. Just a little bit more. He could feel Joe struggling, fighting to break free, to break through to the surface. Frank closed his eyes as he concentrated. He knew he had to help Joe.

Frank didn’t know how long he had held on to Joe’s hand until he heard someone gasp. What was that? His eyes flew open. Slowly he broke into a grin. Tired, dazed blue eyes were staring at him.

"This is the last question for the round. It seems, ladies and gentlemen, that we have a tie here. Frank Hardy, from Bayport High School, New York and Mark Fellender, from Thomas Jefferson High School, Virginia. So who will be our next Albert Einstein?" The announcer winked at the audience. "Will it be our own Frank Hardy? Or will it be Mark Fellender?"

He turned toward Frank. "Frank, if you could answer this question, this last question, then I’m sure you know, $10 000 will be yours. But if you failed, then I will have to deduct 100 points from you and well, you know the rest," he said, giving his hand a dismissive wave. "So are you ready?"

Frank swallowed hard and looked over to where his family and friends were sitting. Chet and Biff both gave him a thumbs-up sign, and Callie was smiling encouragingly at him. Fenton was holding Laura’s hand. Frank’s eyes met Joe’s. His brother was sitting in his temporary wheelchair at a slight distance from everyone else. Joe’s intense gaze seemed to bore a hole right through Frank. Go show them, Frank, it seemed to say.

"Yes, I’m ready," he said in a strong voice.

"Very well. Here is the question." A hushed silence fell over the auditorium as everyone waited for the question.

"Question no. 50. ‘When pentanol, C5 H11 OH, burns in air, black sooty smoke and a dark orange flame are observed. This is because- is it A) its ignition temperature is too high for it to burn cleanly? B) pentanol has a large number of hydrogen atoms in each molecule? Or C) the heat of combustion for pentanol is relatively low, and thus its rate of combustion is low?’" He repeated the question and Frank’s heart seemed to stop. He knew the answer. By God, he knew the answer!

He turned to look at the audience again, who were all staring at him with reserved expressions, all of them wondering whether he was going to make it. At last his eyes rested on his brother. His brother who meant so much to him, who’d shown him what fighting really was. Joe who had battled for his life against pain and agony for days before finally turning out the winner.

He knows, Joe thought, smiling wistfully. He could see it in Frank’s eyes even before Frank turned to look at him. He nodded his head slowly and deliberately, knowing that Frank needed it. Instantly a confident smile materialized on Frank’s face.

"The answer’s B," Frank said without hesitating.

"Is that your final answer?"

"Yes." The audience waited in suspense.

"I hate to be the one to tell you this but-" the announcer shook his head. Everyone’s face fell. Everyone’s except Joe’s. He continued to smile confidently.

"You’re absolutely CORRECT!!!!!!!"

Frank let out a monster whoop and punched his fist into the air. Callie jumped excitedly to her feet and clapped. Soon, everyone began clapping thunderously.

"Congratulations, Frank Hardy you’ve just won yourself TEN THOUSAND DOLLARS and behold, ladies and gentlemen, our NATIONAL CHEMISTRY QUIZ CHAMPION 2003, FRANK HARDY!!!!!!!" The whole studio had gone wild. Cameras flashed his parents and friends practically flew to the stage to congratulate but Frank was only looking at one person. Someone who was sitting quietly, calmly in his wheelchair. A certain someone who had always been there for him through the good and bad times, someone who would not hesitate to die or kill for him. Someone he trusted with all his heart. Someone who nearly went away, but came back because he just simply didn’t believe in giving up.

Someone like my brother, Frank thought proudly and as he lifted the beautiful, sparkling crystal trophy over his head, he caught Joe giving him a salute and one of his characteristically cheerful grins. Frank threw back his head and laughed joyously. Life is beautiful. Life is wonderful.

THE END