Hardy Detective Agency featuring Hardy Boys Fan Fiction

It was soft and melodious. For a moment, she let the gentle vibrations of that so light-hearted tune caress and tease her still floating consciousness.

Did she know that song? Her face screwed into a frown. Was it the music?

Or was it that strange pungent aroma that was assailing her rather sensitive nostrils?

The fragrance was tangy, spicy, and so very familiar. She knew that smell.

Yes, it was ginger.

There was something else in the air.

She sniffed.

Such a sweet smell... such a sickeningly sweet smell.

She could almost taste the saccharine sweetness in the air as she drew her next breath through her mouth. She had wanted to stop smelling for a moment. She was starting to feel a little nauseous from the overdose of sugary scent and taste about her.

She moved; just a little.

That was all she could manage at that moment.

Sticky.

She could feel the stickiness on her arms; clammy and sticky.

It was as if she had gone swimming in a pool of maple syrup.

She swore she smelt maple.

Was she awake?

Yes.

She opened her eyes.

At least she tried.

Her lids flickered open for an instant, then snapped shut again.

She moaned. Her head felt like it was stuffed with warm moist cotton wool.

Cotton wool dipped in heavy duty syrup, she added wryly.

One deep breath; then she forced open her eyes. Her eyelids fluttered; blinked rapidly several times.

Finally, she could see.

The ceiling above her was brown and rough. The room was softly lit. She could barely see the walls. They seemed lost in the shadows beyond the foot of the bed. The bed was uncomfortable and sort of hard. Her head rested on something soft, fluffy, and sticky. She could feel the sweet stickiness in her hair. She could swear her pillow was a big tough marshmallow.

She stifled a sudden urge to giggle.

Something was not quite right, she knew.

Something had happened. What?

She was certainly not in a hospital. It can’t be too bad, she reasoned.

Or she tried to reason. But her heart rate was certainly picking up.

Her eyes flicked upwards. The headboard of her bed was beautifully decorated with jellybeans and M&Ms and formed the picture of a little girl wearing a red hood in a forest.

That scene was so familiar! It reminded her of her childhood days so many years ago. Her own mother sat next to her by her bedside, reading from a big book with lots of beautiful illustrations, including one with a little girl in red carrying a basket.

Her eyes flicked right, then left.

There was no one there.

Was she dreaming?

No.

Her eyes were certainly open. She was definitely awake and aware.

Her heart pounded faster, and her breathing followed.

She tried to move again. This time, she realized two things and her eyes widened in apprehension. She was lying on the bed barely able to move. Her muscles seemed unnaturally weak.

Anyone there? She wanted to yell out, but merely a whisper escaped her throat.

Her throat felt sore. It felt like she had been on a screaming marathon and had no voice left. She could even feel the pain now.

It was then she realized the music was gone, and silence surrounded her, enfolding her in its suffocating embrace. She bit down on her lips, but failed to stop a little squeak of a sob from escaping her lips into the silent room.

That little sob sounded loud – really loud, relative to the quietness.

Something moved in the shadows beyond the end of the bed.

Terror rose swift and uncontrolled. Then she saw who it was and she calmed down a little.

“Frank?” she whispered, and was surprised to hear the sound of her own voice.

In the silence of the room, her whisper carried clear as her normal voice. She watched as her eldest moved slowly towards her. It was him. Yes, it was definitely him. What mother would not recognized her child? Her eyes touched on his features, so much like his father, and she could feel her eyes tearing. It was happy tears. Her son was before her again, clearly alive and well.

“Frank, oh Frank…it’s really you…” Laura murmured, feeling both happy and relieved.

Frank sat down on a seat next to her bed and quietly looked down at her; she could see the concern in his expression.

Why was he quiet?

“Are you all right? What’s going on, Frank…?” Laura asked timidly when her eldest failed to react to her initial greeting. She could not prevent a little quaver in her voice.

“Don’t worry, mama, everything will be fine,” Frank reassured her in a gentle tone.

She relaxed a little more. If Frank said everything would be fine, it would be. She could trust her son, right?

“What happened, Frank? Where have you been? And have you seen Joe?” Laura asked.

“Nothing happened that should not have happened, mama.” Frank told her gently. “And Joe is here with me, mama.”

“What…where…”

Laura had to admit she was feeling a little overwhelmed by the current situation. She took several deep breaths. Frank was here, so everything should be all right. She watched her eldest turn towards the shadows beyond the bed, a little smile on his face. It was that smile Frank always had for his little brother.

And that was a good sign…right?

A figure stepped into the light. It was her younger son. Joe. How she missed ruffling his golden hair and seeing his vibrant blue eyes that were always sparkling with laughter and mischief. But her younger son’s eyes were still hidden in the shadows.

He moved towards them, and came to a stop behind Frank, his hand resting on his brother’s shoulder.

“I’m here, mama…” Joe said soothingly to her.

She could feel the tears forming. They were tears of joy. Both her children were here with her again. They were both before her; both of them, who were the lights of her life. Laura wished she could reach out to touch them, but she was too weak. So she just lay there and looked, and smiled her joy. They were both alive and well, and she was with them. And Frank, of course, Frank would always find his brother. They were inseparable.

She closed her eyes, knowing her sons were there looking after her.

Suddenly she remembered.

Fenton.

She turned to her sons.

“Frank, Joe…your father…”

“…will be here soon,” Frank answered smoothly. “Papa will be here soon…”

Papa?

“You must be thirsty, mama,” Joe suddenly said. “Here, have a drink…”

Mama?

Laura watched as Joe moved to seat himself next to her on the bed, a mug held in his hand. It was almost like when she was sick a while back, and her sons took turns caring for her and pampering her. Yes, her sons were great kids.

“Have a drink, mama,” Frank coaxed her as he reached out to lift her upper body and supported her so she could sip more easily from the mug. “Sip slowly, mama…”

They were so gentle, both of them. She drank. It was hot chocolate, lovely rich hot chocolate.

“But now you must rest, mama.” Joe told her after she was done, as he helped Frank settle her back into the bed.

“Thanks,” Laura managed to mumble out. She suddenly felt tired.

“It’s okay, mama,” Frank said to her. “Children are supposed to look after their parents. Just like parents are supposed to look out for their children.”

Laura smiled at that. But she also wondered at it. It sounded very reasonable, but…

“Fenton…”

“Papa will be here soon, mama.” Joe said comfortingly. “And everything will be fine…”

Suddenly, both her sons stilled.

They both tilted their heads marginally, as if listening intently for something. They were so alike, both of them. She wondered what they were listening for. Then she thought she could hear it too. A melody, one that sounded so haunting and sad, yet she knew it should be a cheerful song.

Why?

She looked to her sons for answers. They were still listening to whatever that was.

Finally, Frank moved.

“We have to go, mama,” Frank said as he leaned down to give her a kiss on her forehead. “I love you, mama.”

She could see his eyes for the briefest moment, then Frank stood up.

“Yes, we have to go,” Joe echoed his brother then added. “But you must rest for now, mama.”

Joe pulled up the covers over her.

“Why? What’s happening?” Laura could not help asking even as she struggled to gather her thoughts. She did not want her sons to leave; she wanted the comfort of their presence.

“We have to go to wait for papa,” Joe said to her gently as he patted the covers down and carefully tucked her deeper into the bed.

“Why?” She managed to get another word out.

It was a struggle to stay conscious now.

“To make sure he gets a proper welcome,” Joe told her as he leaned down and placed a kiss on her forehead, just like Frank did.

“The sins of the past must be cleansed, and then we can all go home.” That was Frank, Laura thought a little dazedly.

“And I love you too, mama,” Joe whispered into her ear before standing up, and added in an almost regretful tone, “But we must go and ready ourselves for papa. He will be here soon…”

She stared for a brief moment at her younger son’s deep blue eyes, and then that moment was gone. No, don’t leave me here alone…she wanted to cry out, but she could not.

So Laura watched in trepidation as both her sons moved back into the shadows. Then she heard the sound of a door closing. The soft bang echoed about the small room. She could see the light about her fading...until all that was left was the pin-prick of a spotlight seemingly so far above her.

Only then did she realize what bothered her.

It was her sons’ eyes.

They were empty, soulless, orbs that belied the range of expressions on their faces and their actions.

But there was no time for her to think or feel. That thought, as quickly as it surfaced, was gone. And Laura allowed the darkness to claim her once more.

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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.