hardy boys fan fiction
HOLE IN THE WORLD
hardy boys nancy drew fan fiction
by
Medieval Liz
Chapter 12
hardy boys fan fiction
THE CHAPTERS
Friday, March 29, 10:20am
There was a stunned silence in the room. Guided by the questions Agent Grant asked, Frank had begun to describe in great detail what had happened to him. There were gaping holes in his memories of the last six months, and this worried his parents greatly, but they were more worried about the effect the ordeal was having on him.
He sat rigidly on the sofa, his body shivering. His eyes were staring straight ahead, not seeing anyone or anything except for the images that were conjured by his memory.
Frank swallowed hard and suddenly bolted from the sofa. Laura was right behind him, following him as he ran into the bathroom across from Fenton’s office. He was on his knees as soon as he was through the door, what little breakfast he had eaten vomited into the toilet. Laura crouched beside her son, rubbing his back as he heaved again. “Oh, baby…”
In the living room, Locke turned off the camera with a dazed expression on his face. Agent Grant looked apologetically down the hall where they could hear the boy getting sick. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have pushed him.”
“No, you shouldn’t have.” Fenton agreed with a low growl. He craned his head to look down the hall and sighed when his wife closed the door to the bathroom. “It’s too soon. He hasn’t been home two days yet and now he’s having to relive what he’s gone through. He’s not sleeping, barely eating, and now he’s fighting an infection.” He shook his head and stood from the sofa. “I’m sorry you came all this way, but now is not the time for this.”
Agent Grant followed suit and stood. “Mr Hardy, please-”
“He’s right,” Brian said from his chair. “You’ve got more than enough to charge the one we arrested without putting Frank through this right now. You just want to see if you can push Frank to remember more of where he’s been the last six months.”
“Detective Younger,” Locke spoke hesitantly, “Mr Hardy, there is more to this than the three we nabbed in New York. Now, we’ve got more from Frank in the last hour than we have from any of the other recovered children. The more we know, the quicker we can go after those actually responsible.”
“I will not let you use my son as a source of information!” Fenton roared.
“Please understand, Mr Hardy,” Agent Grant tried to calm the situation. “These people who took your son are very dangerous individuals. For all we know, they will come after him again.”
“No.”
The adults in the room turned at the sudden objection. Frank stood in the hallway, Laura’s hands on his shoulders, his face pale and pasty. Even at a distance they could see him shaking and his expression was grim.
Agent Grant took a step forward. “Frank-”
“They won’t come again,” He snapped, retreating as far back against his mother as he could. “They said they wouldn’t. Not if you left them alone.”
Agent Locke turned the camera on and aimed it at Frank.
Laura put her arms protectively around Frank and glared at the agent with the camera. “Turn that off immediately! Just who the hell do you think you are?!”
“Mrs Hardy,” Grant said firmly, “your son knows things that are very important to this investigation.”
“I don’t give a damn about your investigation,” Laura snapped.
“Frank needs to tell us what else he remembers,” Locke added, keeping the camera on the boy. “We need to know what he knows or else these people will get away with what they did to all those kids.”
“No, what you need is to understand that Frank is in no condition to be doing this right now.” Fenton growled.
Frank rolled his eyes, his fears starting to calm at the absurdity of it all. “Hey, if you guys want to keep talking about me like I’m not even in the room, that’s fine by me. But I’m not feeling that great right now so I’m going to go lay down before I yak on someone.”
Detective Cameron chuckled softly, and Adam grinned at the boy’s response. Brian caught Frank’s eyes as he walked out of the living room and Brian nodded his approval. Frank gave a shy smile and was climbing the stairs.
“I believe,” Mrs Hardy said forcefully, “That will be all, Agents.”
-HBHBHB-
Friday, March 29, 1:00pm
If it was even possible, Frank was looking even more exhausted when he came back down stairs. Fenton noted the paleness of his son’s complexion hadn’t improved and he doubted Frank had gotten any rest.
“Everyone gone?” Frank asked as he sat next to his father on the sofa.
“The Youngers and Detective Cameron left about half an hour ago,” Fenton said, closing the file he was looking through before Frank could see what was inside. “Your mother invited them to stay for lunch.”
“Oh.”
“Are you hungry?” Mr Hardy put an arm around Frank’s shoulder and the boy leaned in to him. “I think there’s some chowder left.”
Frank shook his head. “No, not really. Stomach’s still bugging me.” He slowly reached for the file on his father’s lap and touched the folder. “This about me?”
It always amazed Fenton at how perceptive his eldest was. “It’s just some information that Detective Younger gave me to look over.”
“What’s it say?”
“It’s not important.”
“Dad,” Frank lifted his head and looked up at his father with a wearied sigh. “If it wasn’t important, you’d tell me. If it’s about me, and what happened, I think I should be able to know what it says.”
Fenton raised an eyebrow, curious about the young man that sat next to him and wondering where his little boy had gone. “If you’re sure.”
With a nod, Frank slipped the folder from under Fenton’s hand and onto his own lap. He flicked it open and stiffened. Pictures of his wrists and ankles still entrapped in the handcuffs were on the top of the pile. He knew the police needed the pictures for evidence, but it still bothered him to see them. He hurriedly turned them over and looked through a few more pictures of the room he had been held before stopping on a mug-shot.
The tips of his fingers touched the photo, tracing the man’s brown eyes. Frank’s forehead wrinkled and he turned over the picture to look at another mug-shot. The eyes were blue and he searched through the papers and pictures until he found the third mug-shot. Another set of brown eyes stared back at him.
Fenton watched his son with an investigators eyes. The look on the boys face was haunting, and it was obvious he was searching for something – someone – but couldn’t find it. “Frank?”
“These were the guys in the apartment?” Frank asked in a whisper. “The only ones?”
“There was just the three of them,” Fenton confirmed. “Two of them were killed, you know that.”
“No,” Frank shook his head and the file fell from his lap onto the floor. “There were four.”
sleep with one eye open
gripping your pillow tight
“It’s the eyes,” Frank told his Dad, trying to stop the dread that was clutching at his chest. “The one that talked to me, he had grey eyes.”
Fenton picked up the file, keeping it closed, and set it on the coffee table. The missing element, he knew, was somewhere inside his son’s memory. A memory Fenton would do anything to keep from having to surface, but to catch the people responsible he would have to pull that memory forward.
“Dad?” Frank’s frightened voice stopped him before he could begin the questions. “Dad, leave it alone. Okay?”
The request was the last thing Fenton had been expecting. “I may not agree with their methods, Son, but I know they FBI is right. You know it too. These people, the ones who did this to you, have to be found and they have to pay the price. They can’t get away with it.”
“Yes they can!” Frank was close to tears. The razors edge on which he had been treading ever since he had woke up in that dark room was beginning to cut. “I only remember the eyes, Dad. Eyes and voices. I can’t see their faces, I can’t see where I am, I just know that I don’t want to go back there!”
Fenton put a comforting hand on Frank’s knee, but the boy jerked away like he’d been shocked. “Frank, no one’s going to take you again. I won’t let that happen.”
“Like you stopped them the first time?” The accusation hit home and Frank knew it. He didn’t want to hurt his dad, but he had to make him understand. “Dad, please! You were right there when they took me, and you couldn’t stop them. The only reason I’m sitting here now is because they told you where I was.”
“No,” Fenton snapped angrily, not at his son but at the truth behind the boys words.
“Yes,” Frank shuddered at what he was about to say. “He told me, dad, right after the other ones beat me up. He chained me, he gagged me, he made sure I knew I wasn’t going anywhere. And then he said it was going to be over. I thought he meant he was going to kill me, but instead he said they were going to let you know where I was. But he made me a promise. If you kept investigating, he’d come back. And not just for me this time. They’d take Joe too.”
He wiped at the tears that had escaped his control. Fenton was silent so Frank carried on. “Dad, I can’t remember what happened in the past six months. I don’t think I really want to. But I remember the only reason I cooperated with them at all was to keep Joe safe. I’d rather still be handcuffed to that bed, black and blue from head to toe, than have Joe go through it again.”
“Again…” Fenton finally understood what Frank was eluding to. The Nightingales.
“Dad, please,” Frank put a hand on his dad’s arm to get Fenton’s attention. Slowly, Fenton turned to his son. “If not for me,” Frank was saying, “then for Joe. Let this one go, Dad.”
The investigator in him shattered, leaving only the father, and Fenton pulled Frank into a fierce hug. “No, Frank, not for Joe. For you. Dear god, I swear I won’t give them a reason to come after you again!”
“Enter Sandman” by Metallica
Words and Music by James Hetfield, Lars Ulrich and Kirk Hammett
Copyright © 1991 Creeping Death Music (ASCAP)
International Copyright Secured All Rights Reserved
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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.