Frank could tell that Joe was watching him. Every time he had had the strength to open his eyes over the course of the last month, Joe had been there. Sometimes he would see his parents, or Becka with Joe, but mostly he was alone, watching faithfully over his brother. Frank knew that as long as Joe was able he would be there. Their last case had proven beyond a shadow of a doubt that their bond as brothers was unbreakable.

Joe Hardy glanced over at his friend, Chet Morton, who flashed a silly grin and gave a "thumbs up" signal. Joe put his mother’s Buick into gear, his foot resting lightly on the brakes. He shook his head again at the ridiculousness of Chet's plan and his willingness to participate.

Chet had just finished replacing the speedometer on his old car, known as "The Queen", and, in his own words, wanted to make sure it was calibrated correctly. He had talked Joe into coming down the Shore Road with him to test it. Joe was supposed to have shown up in the brothers van, a late model Dodge Grand Caravan that was solid black. When he had pulled up in his mother’s Buick, Chet had started laughing.

"What’s so funny?" Joe had demanded. "This thing packs more horsepower than that hunk of junk!" He pointed at The Queen.

Chet sobered up a little. He had a hard time driving when he was laughing. "Sorry, Joe. I just never pictured you in a Buick before!" With that, he climbed into The Queen and they were off.

Joe, however, was not paying much attention to where he was going and both boys had failed to notice the car up ahead on the side of the road. As the speedometer hit 45mph, he looked up and his eyes widened in shock. He slammed on the brakes, but it wasn’t soon enough. He groaned as the front right fender of Laura Hardy’s Buick smashed into the left rear fender of Chief Ezra Collig’s squad car.

Joe tried to slouch down in his seat so Collig wouldn’t notice, but the airbag prevented him from hiding. He closed his eyes briefly as Chief Collig marched over to the car and almost ripped Joe’s door off getting it open. Joe was yanked out of the car and found himself looking into the very angry face of Bayport’s chief of police.

"Joseph Hardy, what in San Juan Hill do you think you are doing!" Collig shouted.

Joe swallowed hard. What he and Chet had been doing could be classified as drag racing, which was slightly illegal in Bayport. "It’s not what you think, Chief-" Joe snapped his mouth closed as Collig’s face turned even redder.

"Not another word, Joe!" Collig looked over at Chet. "I’m taking you both downtown where you will call your parents. Then you will explain just WHAT the two of you were doing."

Joe and Chet exchanged glances as Collig radioed in the location of the two wrecked vehicles, then all three got into The Queen. They made the 15 minute trip in silence, Joe wondering all the while which of his parents would kill him first.

Three hours later Joe sat in a holding cell, his head in his hands. It taken him half an hour to track his parents down, then only Fenton had shown up. Joe took one look at his father’s face and knew that something was seriously wrong, and it had nothing to do with Joe. He wondered if it had anything to do with why Frank was in the hospital having more tests run.

Fenton had decided that the safest place for Joe that night was jail, as required by the law for an arrest of reckless driving. After what Frank’s doctor had just told them, Laura would be in no mood to deal with Joe. Fenton himself wasn’t entirely sure of what had happened. In fact, he was only sure of two things at the moment: 1- Joe was in deep trouble, and 2- Laura’s car would need some extensive body work befire it was driveable again.

The Morton’s had decided to take Chet home, as he had only been charged with drag racing. Fenton accompanied them to the parking lot and talked with Chet’s parents for a few minutes. Even Chet noticed that Fenton seemed distracted. He wisely chose not to say anything. He figured he could ask Joe about it later.

Fenton got back into his car and headed back towards the hospital. As mad at Joe as Fenton was, he couldn’t help but worry about what Joe’s reaction to Frank’s test results would be. The first time they had told him, seven years ago, he had run away to Claire Whitmyre’s house, the boys favorite babysitter. Fenton couldn’t even begin to imagine Joe’s reaction this time. Only now, at seventeen instead of ten, he could run a lot farther than Claire’s house.

All too soon, he was in the parking lot at Bayport General Hospital. He parked the car and made sure the alarm was set, then went inside to the elevators. Frank was in room 614. The ride to the sixth floor was all too short and Fenton stepped out onto the floor he’d prayed he would never see again. Oncology.