Joe slowly opened his eyes and looked around, surprised to find himself surrounded with the familiar comfort of his own room instead of a sterile hospital bed.  

Hearing someone shifting nearby, Joe moved his head, expecting to see Frank snoozing in an arm chair next to his bed, but it wasn’t Frank.  

It was their father. 

* * *

Fenton felt someone watching him, and he opened his eyes, smiling into the confused-looking vibrant blue eyes that were looking at him.  

“Well hello, sleepyhead,” the detective said warmly, inwardly very relieved to see Joe awake and lucid-looking.  After he collapsed in the shower, Joe had been taken to the hospital and treated for smoke inhalation and skin irritation from the use of accelerant on his skin.  

The teen had been exhausted, both mentally and physically, so when he’d regained consciousness and been allowed to go home, Fenton and Frank, with his own arm in a sling, had to help him; for although he was conscious, he had still been extremely drowsy and fairly out of it.  

That was last night, and Joe had been asleep ever since.  

“What time is it?” Joe asked as stifled a yawn, and started to scratch his chest but his father gently grabbed his hand to stop him.  

“Don’t scratch,” Fenton reprimanded softly, “You were lucky.  While the kerosene did irritate your skin, it’s more like a sunburn than anything else, and Dr. Greenland prescribed some cream to help with the itching.”  

“Oh,” Joe said, slowly sitting up and leaning back against the headboard.  He didn’t remember anything after collapsing in the shower….  

“And it’s Monday morning,” Fenton continued, letting Joe’s arm go, satisfied that he wouldn’t scratch himself.  “You’ve been out of it for over twelve hours.”  

“Longer then that,” Joe commented, closing his eyes briefly as he tried to ignore the itching that seemed to be spreading to his neck.  “I don’t remember much after being rescued.  By the way, thanks.”  

Fenton looked at Joe a bit strangely before he asked slowly, “Thanks for what?”  

Joe blushed, although it was hard to tell, as his face, like most of the rest of him, was tinged red from the irritation.  He glanced away and said softly, “For rescuing me.  I know it must have been hard not to go after William first.”  

The detective frowned, not liking what his son wasn’t saying.  He pursed his lips and said carefully – there had been too many misunderstandings between them to mess this up too –  “Joe, you don’t have to thank me for saving you.  I love you, son.  It never occurred to me not to.” 

Joe’s blue eyes contrasted with his flushed face markedly, as the teen sought out his father’s face for any signs of duplicity.  He found none and it added to his confusion.  “But William was a danger to your family—”  

Fenton cut him off.  “Joe, you are part of my family.”  

“But—”  

“No buts.”  Fenton leaned across and gently touched his son’s red face for a moment.  “Joseph, I don’t understand where this is coming from, son.  What have we done to make you feel like you’re not part of this family?  An important part at that.  Why would I just go after William when you needed me?”  

Peter’s voice haunted Joe and he closed his eyes and swallowed painfully…. Oh yeah, he gotcha from a pound, didn’t he?  Or was it a cabbage patch?  Come on, Joey, show us your papers….Don’t you adopted kids have to carry them everywhere with you – like a license to be around real families—?  

When he opened his eyes again, his father was watching him with unabashed concern on his face.  “Joe?”  

“Because I’m adopted.”   

The three words cut through Fenton’s heart, and he blinked in shock.  

“Excuse me?”  

“It’s okay, Dad, honestly—” Joe rushed to placate, but his father cut him off.  

“Well it’s NOT okay with me, Joseph,” Fenton said, anger flashing across his handsome face, although not anger at his son.  “You are every bit as much a part of this family as the rest of us!  Now I know I’ve made mistakes – heaven knows I only have to see the shadows on your face to be reminded of them – but the one mistake I never did make was you, Joe.  

“You have done nothing except add to this family from the moment you came into our lives.  I just wish I could do something to prove that to you…but I can’t.  I can only tell you that I do love you…your Mom loves you…and Frank, well, I think you already know how your brother feels about you….” Joe smiled at that, thinking of the dark-haired boy, “but it’s up to you to let us into your hearts.  Heaven knows, you’re already in ours.”  

Joe blinked back tears – he wanted to believe so badly….  

And his father continued, “I’m sorry that I haven’t handled this whole thing very well, but son, I was just so terrified that we were going to lose you…” his voice choked off as he tried to hold back the emotion.  

Closing his eyes, Fenton tried to compose himself, and then he felt a gentle touch on his cheek and opened his eyes.  

Joe’s own eyes were shining brightly and he smiled at his father.  “I’m sorry too, Dad….I don’t think I handled it any better….”  And then he was enveloped in a tight hug by his father, and all the pain that the slurs and words Peter and other stupid people like him had thrown at Joe were washed away….  

He was part of this family; a whole and complete part.  And armed with that knowledge, no one could hurt him again.  

Especially William.

* * *

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Joe asked for the tenth time as he sat on the bed and let Frank rub the prescribed cream on his neck and shoulders.  It applied a soothing layer of coolness to his itching and uncomfortable skin.  Their father was right, it reminded Joe of a bad sunburn he had gotten last summer!  

Frank paused and sighed loudly.  “Yes Joe. It’s really nothing more then a scratch…” Joe glanced over his shoulder at him, and the older boy amended, “okay, a bad scratch then.  But it’s fine.  Besides, lobster boy, you’re the one I’m concerned with.”  

“Me?” Joe said, closing his eyes and sighing contentedly as the incredible desire he had to scratch was being soothed away.  

“Yeah, you.”  Frank moved around to sit in front of his brother so he could put the salve on his red chest.  He glanced up and watched Joe’s face carefully as he continued, “You haven’t said much since Chief Collig dropped by to say they’d recovered William’s body.”  

The police chief was still downstairs talking to Fenton as they spoke. He had dropped by to tell them about finding William, and to tell them Con Riley had regained consciousness and would be just fine.  

Joe shivered slightly beneath his fingers, and Frank stopped.  

Opening his eyes, the younger boy sighed, “I don’t really have anything to say.  I mean, I know I should feel something – he was my brother…my twin.  But I don’t, Frank.”  His blue eyes caught and held Frank’s brown ones.  “Does that mean there’s something wrong with me?  William was my brother but I don’t feel any remorse…actually nothing about his death.”  

And then he added quietly, sounding a bit ashamed of himself, “Well that’s not true.  I do feel relieved.”  

“Joe,” Frank said carefully, holding his brother’s gaze, “William’s made your life a living hell since the time you were preschoolers…. If you didn’t feel some sort of relief, I’d be worried.”  

“Really?” Joe wanted to believe him even as he knew that Frank made sense.  

“Really,” Frank confirmed.  “You don’t just love someone because they’re family.  Love, like trust, has to be earned.”  He moved to put more ointment on Joe’s chest as he spoke, but Joe grabbed his arm.  

Frank looked at his brother questioningly, and Joe said softly, “Have I earned it?”   

“Joe…do you…I..” Frank sputtered indignantly, unable to believe that Joe would even ask something like that, but then he saw a teasing glint in his brother’s eyes and he stopped and asked suspiciously, “What?”  

“Well,” Joe started slowly, and then a smile spread across his face.  “If you trust me…then you’ll finally tell me what happened to you and Callie on Friday?  Why were you in detention??”  

And with that Frank Hardy knew his younger brother would be okay. He might still have nightmares, but together they’d face every one of them….And starting tomorrow, when they went back to school, Frank was determined that his brother would never be bothered by anyone again for being adopted.  

Joe was his brother.  And no one hurt his brother….

* * *

12 years earlier…  

The small blond boy knelt next to his bed and whispered, “Dear God, Mr. Rollins told me that you answer prayers of good little boys who ask you for things.  He says that you can see inside them and know what they really need, even if they don’t know it ourselves!  Wow. That kinda makes you like Santa Claus then, huh?  My brother Will says you don’t exist…but not me.  I know you do.  So I’m not going to ask you for anything…but God, can you look inside me and see what I really need?  I gotta go, Will is coming out of the bathroom and he has that mad look on his face again….Please don’t let the closet be so dark tonight.. Amen.”  

Somewhere above him, a shooting star raced across the heavens, echoing the words of the child through the night sky….  

And in the morning, Fenton Hardy, his pretty young wife, Laura, and their six-year- old son stood at the doorway of Foundling Hall.  

“Are we ready?” Fenton asked his young son, knowing that of all of them, their decision would affect the child the most.  Somewhere beyond those doors lay a brother or a sister for Frankie….  

They just had to be sure they made the right choice…  

And they did.

* * *

3 Days earlier…  

Frank Hardy hurried down the hallway towards his second-to-last class of the day. He was just passing the janitor’s closet when the door opened and he heard a familiar voice whisper to him, “Frank! Come here!”  

It was his girlfriend Callie!  

“Callie?” he asked as he came closer, and then she grabbed him by the shirt and hauled him into the closet, closing the door behind him.  

“What—”  His words were broken off as she kissed him…and he was putty in her hands….  

Five minutes later, when the door opened, an unimpressed janitor got more than he bargained for….Much more….  

“Well little brother,” Frank started to explain, “It’s like this…”  

And within moments, the sound of uncontained laughter reverberated throughout the Hardy house, warming the hearts of all who heard it….  

The End

P.S.  Liz Webling’s package did finally get to her great-grandmother….  

It was a new girdle and some support hose that Liz had gotten her for her 92^nd birthday.  

And Sherlock enjoyed the large bone that Fenton Hardy personally delivered to the dog.  

“You are a credit to your kind”, Fenton said, patting the bloodhound on the head before he turned and left.  

His two sons were waiting for him at home…