Jorgen Fruz watched in shock as Frank Hardy left the lunchroom.  He had never seen anything like it – the kid had just walked up to Davis, had a few words and then laid the older kid out with one punch!

It was amazing!

Around him, Evan and Lily were trying to rouse Davis as a call went out for the school nurse.  Across from Jorgen, Seth just shrugged his shoulders and then went back to his lunch, but Jorgen was unable to tear his eyes from Frank’s retreating form, his words still ringing in the exchange student’s ears….What the hell did you do to my brother?

Frank knew.

Glancing across at the table where the Hardys’ friends were sitting, Jorgen caught Biff’s eye for just a moment and then the younger teen turned around and went back to his lunch.  Jorgen, himself, no longer had any appetite.  He had felt bad enough before about what happened to Joe, but as he saw the ferocity in Frank’s eyes, he felt worse.   Jorgen had his own younger brother, and for one second saw himself mirrored in the older Hardy, knowing that could have just as easily been him if anyone had hurt his younger brother, Kristjan. He would have reacted in the exact same way…and then he thought about Iola….

Still regarding Biff, the eighteen-year-old wondered how in heck the other teen had gotten out….Just how do you get to leave the Getty gang in one piece?

* * *

Fenton Hardy was in the kitchen making a grilled cheese sandwich when the phone rang.

Picking it up, he answered, “Hardy residence…” and then two minutes later he had grabbed his keys and left the house, shaking his head in disbelief.  He needed to go to the high school; Frank had apparently assaulted another student in the cafeteria!

* * *

“Well, I’ll give you this much, you’re one lucky kid,” Dr. Bates told Joe when he finished examining him, “nothing broken this time, that I can tell.  I still want you to drop by a clinic and get x-rays, just to make sure there aren’t any hairline fractures.  But other than that, take it easy for a couple of days, use ibuprofen as required, cold packs and go to the ER right away if you pass any blood in your urine.  Got it?”

Joe scowled as he carefully buttoned up his shirt. “I got it.”

“You never cease to amaze me,” the kindly old doctor chuckled as he shook his head, “I’d only just been thinking this morning that it had been a little while since I saw you.”

“Glad someone finds this amusing,” Joe grumped and then gave a small smile as Dr. Bates mussed up his hair fondly.  He’d been the Hardy family doctor since Joe was a baby and he’d come to think of them as very good friends; very good friends who too often showed up in his office for non-routine visits, especially the blond kid sitting on the examining table in front of him.  Joe seemed to have a penchant for finding trouble.

“Hilarious actually,” the doctor teased, his blue eyes twinkling, as he knew how much the teen hated coming here.  He never took it personally, though.  “I’m thinking of putting up a dedication plaque in the waiting room for you.”

“Me? Why?” Joe asked, sliding stiffly off the table and smiling his thanks as Dr. Bates helped him ease down.

“Well, I have no other patient as ‘dedicated’ to keeping me in business as you are!”

Joe actually laughed, holding his aching mid-section as he did so.  “Finally!  I’m appreciated for my talents!”

Dr. Bates squeezed his shoulder fondly as they left the small room.  “Do me a favor, though, and stop giving your natural talents such a workout, and try working on something a little less natural, like going longer than three months between, doctor visits?”

“I’ll try,” Joe sighed contritely as he saw his mother hurry towards them, “but I can’t make any promises!”

“Fair enough,” Dr. Bates agreed, and then quickly explained to Laura the same thing he had just told Joe, before giving her the x-ray requisition and going into the other examining room where a new mother had a coughing baby.

“Told you I was fine,” Joe said as they headed downstairs.

“I hardly call severe bruising fine,” his mother scolded him, “besides we have to wait to see what the x-rays say!”

“Aww, Mom—“

She cut him off before he could get his complete protest out.  “Don’t ‘aw Mom’ me, young man, we’re going for x-rays one way or the other…and I really don’t think you want people to see me hauling you in by the ear, do you?”

Joe looked horrified and covered his ears.  “You wouldn’t!”

“Try me.”  His mother’s blue eyes challenged him, and the teen sighed.

“I’ll go!  Control your sadistic tendencies, woman!” he grumbled.  “And I thought you cared!”

Laura smiled and started to give him an affectionate hug but stopped, remembering how sore he was. Instead she chuckled fondly, “Oh Joey…if only you knew….”

* * *

Frank stood in front of the principal and listened to his lecture about how he didn’t condone the use of violence and how disappointed he was in Frank, as he had never had any trouble with him for doing something like this before.  Joe, on the other hand…

Davis had regained consciousness and was sitting in a chair against the wall, a cold compress against his jaw.  Frank stifled a small smile when he saw there was going to be a mark.

A knock on the door heralded Fenton’s arrival, and he looked at his son questioningly.  “Frank?”

The dark-haired teen sighed and shrugged his shoulders, indicating that he’d tell his father everything once they left.  Right now he was anxious to get out of this office and see Joe.

Principal Mathers let out a heavy sigh as he addressed Frank’s father:  “I really do hate to have to bring you down here; however, in light of what has happened, I feel it only prudent to suspend Frank for—”

“It wasn’t a fight,” Davis’s sullen voice interrupted, and the three other people in the office turned to look at him.

“Excuse me?” Principal Mathers said, voicing everyone’s thoughts.

“It wasn’t a fight,” Davis repeated himself, looking directly at Frank.  “It was a misunderstanding…that’s all.”

“A misunderstanding?” Mr. Mathers said; sounding not too convinced, and Davis just shrugged, his dark eyes daring Frank to contradict him.

“There were witnesses—” the principal continued, but the older Getty shook his head.

“They’re wrong.  What they thought they saw wasn’t what happened.”

Frank continued to stare at Davis, wondering what game he was playing. The principal turned to Frank.  “Is that true?”  But before the older Hardy could answer, the other teen stood up to leave.

“That’s what happened.  Can I go now?”

The principal looked from one teen to the other; Frank started to open his mouth to say otherwise, but then closed it again, curious as to what Davis was up to and willing to play along for now.

The man’s gaze lingered on Davis a little longer as he sat back in his chair and shook his head.  He did not believe the story for one moment, however…. “Fine.  Both you and Frank are suspended for the remainder of the afternoon, but…” he made sure to capture each boy in his intense, unwavering gaze, “anymore ‘misunderstandings’ like that will not be tolerated, and will result in a more stringent suspension and notation on your permanent records.  Have I made myself perfectly clear?”

“Crystal.”  Davis’s voice was like ice.

“Yes sir,” Frank said contritely, even as his eyes slewed over to Davis again.

“Dismissed,” the principal said, and the two teens left.  Fenton indicated for Frank to wait outside for him as he wanted to talk to the other man in private.

When the door closed, Mr. Mathers did not seem too surprised to see Mr. Hardy had remained.

* * *

Lily was waiting outside the principal’s office and hurried towards Frank as soon as she saw the two boys come out.

“Are you okay?” the girl demanded, appraising him quickly.  Behind her, Davis scowled and rubbed his jaw pointedly.

“I’m fine,” Frank said and then looked directly at her brother.  “You wanna explain that little dog and pony show you put on in Mr. Mathers’ office?”

The older teen shrugged.  “What’s to explain?  I did what I had to do, and you did what you had to do.  No need to get anyone else involved.”

Frank glared at him.  “What do you mean ‘you did what you had to do’?”

Davis sighed.  “Geez Hardy, and I thought you were the smart one!” he continued before Frank could retort.  “Look, I know you might not believe me, but me beating up Joe actually was a good thing.”

“What the—” Frank’s voice was incredulous, as he couldn’t believe what he was hearing!

“The beer, stupid!  What else to you think I’m talking about?” Davis scoffed, “A lot of kids were burned when little Joey ratted out our supplier. You should be thanking me that I promised to handle him instead of letting some of the other guys do it. You might have been visiting the morgue instead of him being home ‘sick’ today.”

The older Hardy was actually dumbfounded as he realized what Davis wasn’t saying.

Lily glared at her brother as she looped her arm through Frank’s.  “You mean you did beat Joe up?”

“Yeah,” Davis said casually, and then added, “But I was careful.  I had a couple of other guys hold onto him to he wouldn’t get too seriously hurt.  Like I said, you should be thanking me, really.”

Infuriated, Frank would have laid into Davis again if his father hadn’t walked out of the office right at that very moment!

* * *

“I don’t believe that cockamamie story any more than you do,” the principal admitted before Fenton could say anything.  “However, I do believe in people working things out among themselves, whenever possible.”

Fenton nodded.  “Understandable.”  He sighed, glanced back at the door and than admitted, “I do, however, think that whatever transpired between those two had to do with Frank’s brother.”

“Joe?”  The principal made it his job to know all his students.  “I saw his name on the absence log this morning.  I hope nothing serious is wrong.”

“Unfortunately, someone worked him over pretty good yesterday, and I have a strong suspicion that that’s the ‘misunderstanding’ Davis was talking about,” the sleuth admitted, and the principal shook his head and sat back heavily in his seat.

“That would certainly explain this very uncharacteristic display by Frank.  I have to admit I was shocked when I found out it was your older son involved in this fray. There are some students who, unfortunately, tend to gravitate towards this kind of trouble, but Frank has never been one of them,” Mr. Mathers admitted, and then chuckled, “now your younger boy…”

Fenton rolled his eyes in resignation, knowing exactly what the principal was inferring.  “We do try.”

“He’s a good boy, just a bit of a hothead,” the principal consoled with a grin, and the other man nodded in agreement before promising to talk to Frank about this, and then he left the office to take his son home.

* * *

Fenton knew immediately that he had walked in on something. You could cut the tension between the teens with a knife, and Frank looked fit to kill.

Putting a gentle, restraining hand on his son’s shoulder, the detective spoke quietly. He could feel the tense muscles under his hand.  “Ready to go, son?”

Frank nodded and pulled his arm away from Lily. The girl reached up and gave him a soft kiss on the cheek as she whispered, “I’ll call you later.”  He nodded, his simmering glare never once leaving Davis. And then he let his father lead him out of the office.

* * *

Lily spoke to Davis as soon as the Hardys were out of earshot.  “Good story.”

“Glad you approved,” the older boy sulked.  He really would have loved to have seen Frank get suspended for the remainder of the week or worse; however, he knew that if he hadn’t pulled back and gotten the other teen off, Lily would have made his life hell….

It sucked having a sociopath for a sister.

* * *

“How’s Joe?” Frank demanded as soon as they got out of the school. He looked at his father, his brown eyes anxious. “He isn’t sick, he got beaten up!”

Fenton stopped and looked at his older son.  “He is pretty badly bruised. Your mom’s taken him to see Dr. Bates.”

“Damn!” Frank muttered and then blushed sheepishly.  “Sorry, Dad.”

The detective squeezed his shoulder understandingly and then prodded his son towards the car.

“I should have known,” Frank continued, berating himself.

“Son, there’s no way you could have. Joe was doing his best to hide it from us…from all of us,” his father argued, not wanting his older son to take on guilt that wasn’t his own, but Frank wasn’t listening. He just shook his head and looked at his father.

“No, Dad.  I knew something was wrong and I just accepted his explanation that he was sick…but I knew it…I knew it couldn’t have been just that!”

“Frank—”

“He locked me out of his room last night,” the teen interrupted his father as they got to the car.  Fenton was shocked.  He knew about the unspoken backdoor that the brothers always kept open for each other….

“He locked both doors?” the detective confirmed, and his older son nodded glumly.

“Yeah, and it kept me awake half the night wondering about that,” Frank sighed.  “And then this morning, I was so determined to find out what was up, but I took one look at Joe, saw how sick he looked – how could I have been so stupid? It was there all along and I never saw it!  Joe looked like crap – I should have known!”

Fenton started the car.  “Let’s just go home and see how he is.  I’m sure that he and your Mom – oh, shoot,” the detective stopped mid-sentence as he suddenly remembered something else he had to tell Frank. His son still didn’t know what had happened at the Morton farm.

“What’s wrong?” Frank asked, looking across at his father again.

The detective sighed.  “I was going to say that they should be home by now, but they won’t be.  Your mom and Joe were going to drop by the Mortons’ place after they left the clinic.”  And provided Joe was only bruised, he added to himself, no use making Frank worry until they knew for sure.

“The Mortons’, why?” Frank demanded, and then added, “Wait, I didn’t see either Chet or Iola in school this morning; did something happen?”

“You might say that,” his father started, and then went on to explain the same thing to Frank as he had to Joe.  He saw his son’s face pale as he shook his head in disbelief.

“I can’t believe it,” Frank said, after what his father told him sunk in.

“I know,” the detective agreed.

“No wonder neither of them was in school today,” Frank mused, and then leaned his head back against the seat.  “Something doesn’t feel right about all this.”

Fenton glanced across at him and nodded, as he’d been thinking the same thing.

Frank numbered it off:  “An attack on Joe and Biff; an attack on me and Lily; and now an attack on Iola…that’s just too coincidental!”

“I noticed you’re not adding the assault on your brother in there,” the detective picked up, and his son sighed and admitted:

“No, because I know what happened…unfortunately.”

“What?” his father demanded.  He suspected Frank’s impromptu assault on Davis Getty was somehow mixed up in this, but he waited to hear what his son would say.

“It’s about that damn…sorry Dad, that case of beer, again,” the teen said, his face marred by a scowl.  He went on to explain, “Apparently Davis was given the go-ahead to ‘teach’ Joe a lesson about squealing.”  Frank’s face darkened as he seethed about it – how dare they?!  “He had the nerve to tell me I should be thanking him because he was considerate about the beating, and had a couple of his friends restrain Joe—”  Frank clenched his jaw so tightly it hurt, and didn’t say anything else.  He was too angry, and just glared out the window for a few minutes.

“Are you okay, son?”  Fenton finally asked; his own mood darkened as he got the gist of what Frank was saying. It was bad enough to think someone had assaulted his son, but to hear that there might have been more than one or two people involved….

“I want to see Joe,” was all Frank said.

* * *

“Mom,” Joe started as the car came to a stop outside the old farmhouse the Mortons lived in, “Can we not tell them about me?  I mean, I don’t want Iola freaking out any more than she already is.”

Laura looked at her younger son and sighed. She was relieved that the x-rays had come back clear, and that all his color was just bruising; however, she didn’t like the idea of him hiding his pain.

“Please?” he added, his weary blue eyes beseeching her.  He was actually feeling very worn out, and the jarring motion of the car was starting to get to him, but his determination to make sure Iola was indeed okay, overrode his own thoughts of self-preservation.

“Joe—” she started, but then stopped.  She could tell he was tired and uncomfortable, even if he wouldn’t admit it.  “Fine, for now.  But honey, we aren’t going to be staying for very long.  Dr. Bates said you need to rest, and that’s what you’re going to do, okay?”

“Okay,” he readily agreed, looking very much forward to getting home and crawling back in bed.  Opening the car door, he carefully eased himself out of the vehicle and then groaned softly as he straightened up.  Joe could feel his mother’s worried gaze and gave her a small, reassuring smile.  “I’m fine.”

His mother nodded, and didn’t say anything as they knocked on the front door and waited for it to be answered.

* * *

Iola was lying on her bed, but she wasn’t asleep.  She didn’t think she’d ever sleep again. Every time she closed her eyes, she couldn’t help but see her masked abductor standing over her again. Her parents had thought she had fallen asleep earlier, but she hadn’t.  So she heard the soft footsteps outside her door, moments before an equally soft knock and then her mother’s voice, “Iola, sweetie, if you’re awake, there’s someone here to see you.”

“I’m awake,” the girl answered, her voice sounding weary even to her, and then she asked, “Who is it?”

“Joe,” her mother replied as she slowly pushed open the room door and saw her black haired child lying on her side on the bed, watching her through red-rimmed eyes. “Oh baby,” Mrs. Morton said, moving towards the side of the bed.

Iola pushed herself up into a sitting position, wincing as she had tried to use her hand, momentarily forgetting it was sprained.  “I’m okay Mom,” she said and then glanced back towards the open door.  “Joe’s here?”

“Yes, love,” her mother smiled, knowing how her daughter was smitten with the younger Hardy boy.  “He wants to see you.”

Iola smiled for the first time all day as she eased off the bed.  “Where is he?”

Mrs. Morton shook her head.  Boy crazy, she thought fondly, suddenly very glad that Laura had brought Joe over, as for the first time since Iola had come stumbling into their house at that god-awful hour, there was something other than fear on her child’s face.

“Downstairs,” her mother said, and then moved to keep up with her daughter as Iola hurried towards the stairs.

* * *

Joe glanced at the staircase when he heard Iola coming down, followed by her mother. The worried expression on his face faded a bit when he saw her, but then he frowned when he looked at the sling. Inside he chafed that anyone would hurt Iola!

If I ever get my hands on them—

“Hi Joe,” Iola said shyly.

“Hi Iola.”  Joe felt the heat rising in his face as he was suddenly very self-conscious, for some strange reason.  His mother was sitting at the kitchen table, and Mrs. Morton sat down across from her.

Joe glanced towards the kitchen door and both he and Iola said at the same time, “Wanna go outside?” They laughed, a bit embarrassed.

“Okay,” Iola then added and Laura was amused by the flash of relief that flitted across Joe’s face as he quickly made his escape out the kitchen door, a moment after Iola.

“He knows,” Mrs. Morton speculated and Laura nodded, a small smile playing across her pretty face.

“Yeah, I think he finally does.”

* * *

Iola and Joe walked in silence for a few moments, ending up in the barn.  Joe reached out and touched her arm, stopping her as he asked, his voice soft and concerned, “Are you okay, really?”

The pretty girl blinked back the tears as she glanced away, the amount of compassion in his voice overwhelming. She trembled and felt his fingers on her chin, gently moving her gaze back to him. “You’re shaking.”

“S-sorry,” she whispered, wanting so desperately for him to know…to finally see without her having to spell everything out.  And then Joe awkwardly put his arms around her, and pulled her close.  He really had no idea why, except that she was upset and he desperately needed to console her – to make her feel safe again.

“It’s okay…” he whispered, feeling her shaking in his arms.  “You’re okay now. No one is going to hurt you.”  He felt the softness of her hair tickle his cheek as she laid her head against his shoulder, and he admitted, “I-I won’t let them.”

Iola started to sob, and she felt him tighten his grip on her.

“It’s okay…it’s okay,” Joe kept repeating over and over again as he reached up with one hand to stroke her silky, long black hair; he, himself, finding strange comfort from the action.  His body ached from holding her like this, but at the same time, it made him feel something else…something very good.

After what seemed an eternity, Iola calmed down, lifted her head and looked deep into his blue eyes.  Joe smiled down at her, losing himself in the emotions he saw reflected on her face.

She was so beautiful….

And then, without any prior thought or reservation, he lowered his face to hers and kissed her….

Iola felt herself melt and in that one instant decided that the hell that she had gone through had been worth every moment of it….

He knew.