Eighteen-year-old Frank Hardy was humming to himself when he opened the front door, came into the house, and disabled the alarm.

He’d had a wonderful time with Callie and it had been a pretty good movie too. The only thing that had put a damper on the night was a twinge of worry he got every now and then when he thought about his brother.  He wished Joe had come with them, but he understood his reluctance.

Joe’s girlfriend, Vanessa Bender, was out of town visiting her grandfather, and he didn’t feel like going out without her.  Frank actually thought it was nice of him to do that, but he still worried.

“Whoa,” the dark haired teen said as a wave of heat hit him, “What’s with the sauna?”  Moving quickly to the thermostat, he saw it was almost at max, and frowned. Joe knew he was supposed to turn it down before he went to bed.  His parents would have a conniption if they came back and saw it up on bust.

The house felt like it was in the middle of a heat wave! 

“How the hell can either of them sleep in this?”  he mused, thinking about Joe and Sam, as he went to the kitchen to get a glass of water before he went to bed. He knew that Sam was staying in the guest room and that his father had been getting ready to relieve the other detective at the stake-out when Frank had been leaving.

Stifling a yawn, the older boy was heading towards the stairs when the phone rang. Startled, he ran to get it before it woke everyone up.

“Hello?”  he said, hoping that nothing was wrong. He heard his father’s voice:

[Frank? Thank goodness you’re home. How’s your brother?]

The amount of relief evident in his voice and the question about Joe set off warning bells as Frank said slowly, “Yeah, I just got in….I haven’t seen Joe yet. What’s wrong?”

He heard his father let out a deep sigh, and then Fenton went into detail over what had happened at the stake-out.  Frank listened with growing alarm, and then anger at the man who had hurt his brother.

Damn, he thought, I should have been there.

Fenton was saying:

[I was going to come home and let Sam finish here but now that you’re home…]

Frank cut him off.  “It’s okay Dad. I’ll take care of Joe.”  He paused and then added, “You should have called me.”

His father sighed and Frank knew he was running his fingers through his dark brown hair, as that is what Frank himself had just done. And then his father was speaking again:

[Thanks Frank, I know you will….] he sighed again [And you’re right. I should have called you, but Joe didn’t want to interrupt your date.]

The older boy shook his head as he thought affectionately, stupid kid, but then he repeated himself with emphasis, “You should have called me.” And then he continued without giving his father a chance to say anything else – he needed to get upstairs.  “Okay Dad, I gotta go and check on Joe. Talk to you in the morning.”

Hanging up the phone, he took the stairs two at a time. He didn’t even pause at Joe’s room door. His brother wouldn’t be there. He’d be in Frank’s room, of that the older boy was sure.

Quietly, he pushed open the door and then gave a small sigh of relief as he saw the familiar lump on his bed – Joe.

Moving quickly towards his brother, Frank was thankful he had remembered to keep his desk lamp on. Joe would never know but he did that for him. He knew his brother’s fears and that when Joe was upset or needed comfort, where he’d go – Frank’s room.

So Frank purposely left the light on so Joe would never feel unwelcome by turning to a dark room when Frank wasn’t there.

Joe was turned towards the desk and Frank crouched down so he could take a good look at him. He was used to appraising his brother and he whispered, “Oh, little brother,” when he saw how pale Joe’s face was.

In fact Joe was so white that for one moment Frank was terrified he was dead. And if it wasn’t for the trembling of the duvet, he would have checked his pulse right away.

This room, like the rest of house, was hot, and Frank wondered how Joe could be so bundled up in the heat.

Gently he reached out and touched his brother’s forehead, and the concerned look on his face grew as he felt how cold and clammy Joe felt.  What had happened had obviously shaken his younger brother up even more then he had anticipated.

Frank gave an involuntary shudder when Joe moved his head slightly and he saw the white bandage on his neck. It suddenly made it all the more real than it had listening to his father telling him about it.

Not even bothering to change his clothes, Frank gently eased himself into the bed behind his brother. Then sliding his arm under Joe, Frank drew him into a protective hug.

He could feel the younger teen still trembling, and whispered into his ear, “It’s okay, baby brother…I’m here…you’re safe now….No one is going to hurt you again.” And as he said it, Frank meant it – even it if it wouldn’t be true.

And as if by magic, the trembling eased a bit and then he heard a sleepy, hoarse voice.  “Frank?”

“Yeah, I’m here kiddo,”  Frank said, and he felt Joe let out a big sigh and relax against him.

“Good – for a moment I thought I was dreaming.”

“Not anymore,” the older boy whispered. “You okay?”

Joe thought about that for a moment before he answered slowly, “I will be. And thank you.”

“For what?”  Frank asked curiously.

“For not making me leave,” Joe admitted openly.

Frank felt his voice catch in his throat as he said, “N-no baby brother…I would never make you leave.”

He felt Joe snuggle back against him a little more and he tightened his arms around him.  Joe sighed and said, “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? For what?”  Frank was confused what Joe would be apologizing for. Unless he was sorry about leaving the heat up, but given that his brother seemed to be in some sort of mild shock, Frank doubted anything would be mentioned about it at all.

“I was sick…” Joe admitted, “and I didn’t quite make it to the bathroom….Sorry, carpet’s a bit wet near the door.”

Frank didn’t care about the carpet; he was however alarmed that what had happened had upset Joe enough that he was physically sick, and again he cursed himself for not being there. “It’s nothing, Joe. It’s just carpet. I don’t care about the carpet…but I do care about you.”  And then he asked,  “Want to talk about it?”

“You know?” Joe asked, surprised. He had not heard the phone ring so he had no idea how Frank had found out.

“Dad called just after I got in,” Frank admitted, “he told me what happened. Now I want you to tell me.”

Joe shivered again and Frank now realized why the heat had been turned up.

Unfortunately the kind of cold Joe was suffering from was one that the furnace couldn’t warm away.

So he pressed gently, knowing his brother well enough to know that if Joe didn’t talk about it, it would continue to torment him. “It’s okay, little brother – you can tell me. And this time you won’t be alone.”

Hearing those words, Joe broke down and told him everything. And then long after emotional exhaustion finally put Joe to sleep, still nestled against his brother, Frank stayed awake…to guard his sleep.

“I might not have been there tonight…but I’ll be damned if you can have him now. Sleep well, baby brother….  Big brother is keeping watch….”

And as Joe settled down deeper into a dreamless sleep, he smiled: I love being in My Brother’s Room…

* * *

In the morning when Frank went to toss his clothes into the laundry, he wondered….What in the world is Joe’s clock doing in the hamper?