While Frank still easily confided in both his parents, Joe had become more reticent since hitting his teens. Fenton hadn’t thought too much about it before tonight, knowing it was normal for most teens to distance themselves somewhat from their parents; it was an accepted part of growing up. It was one thing to keep certain feelings and emotions to himself, but tonight Joe’s silence could have gotten him seriously hurt. He recalled Frank saying he hadn’t known the extent of the hazing until the previous day; that Joe hadn’t even confided in him about any of it.

‘I wonder why? Did he think he had to prove something?’ Fenton shook his head.

Sometimes Fenton got the impression Joe thought he had to ‘live up’ to Frank; as if he thought Laura and Fenton wanted him to be just like his brother. Nothing could have been further from the truth. Fenton was immensely proud of both his sons, especially the fact that they were so close in spite of being so different.

Yet despite there being only a one-year difference in their ages, Frank was more mature than Joe; he always had been. But it often seemed as if Joe had a burning need to keep pace with his older brother, whether he was physically and emotionally ready or not.

‘I guess I’m partially to blame,’ Fenton thought with mixed emotions. He’d been so thrilled when the boys had shown an interest in his work but he now feared he might have encouraged them to try too much too soon. ‘But they’re naturals! They’re already solving cases I never even experienced until I was on the force!’ he thought proudly. ‘Still, they’re just teenagers – kids, really,’ he reminded himself just as his wife did from time to time, much to his chagrin.

Arriving at Joe’s room, Fenton watched as Laura rushed forward, hugging Joe tightly. He winced in sympathy as Joe grimaced; his mother’s embrace obviously causing him some discomfort.

"I’m fine, Mom," Joe mumbled, disentangling himself from Laura. He gazed at the floor, unable or unwilling to make eye contact with his parents or brother.

Fenton leaned against the wall, watching the interaction between Joe and Laura and Joe and Frank. Joe avoided making direct eye contact with them and barely gave more than one word answers to their questions.

‘He knows he made some mistakes tonight,’ Fenton thought with mild relief.

For some reason it was much easier for him to help Frank see when he’d made an error in judgment and what he should have done differently. Frank saw things so logically; Fenton never had a problem talking with him, helping him to correct his mistakes. With Joe it was harder; Joe seemed to take everything so personally. Fenton sometimes came away from talks with his younger son fearing he’d done more harm than good, getting the impression Joe felt he was being criticized or condemned.

Watching Joe’s body language, Fenton knew Joe understood he should have handled things differently. Remembering the moment when Frank had said he’d brought Joe to the emergency room but hadn’t yet specified why, Fenton felt the same chill race down his spine. For a few seconds he’d thought Joe had been seriously injured, maybe even killed. Watching Joe now, he felt like he was about to kick an already abused puppy but he couldn’t remain silent. He had to make sure Joe understood what he should have done differently tonight, no matter how much it hurt either of them. His life could depend on it one day.

"I’d like to speak with Joe privately," Fenton said, looking pointedly at Laura and Frank. He suppressed a chuckle at the look of sympathy Frank threw his brother before following Laura out the door.

Turning to Joe, Fenton looked at the dejection on his son’s face and felt a mixture of pride and protectiveness. Reaching out he brushed a fingertip across Joe’s cheek near the bruise left by Steven’s class ring.

"I guess it’s safe to assume this didn’t come from practice," he said gently, alluding to the lie Joe had told earlier in the week.

"No, sir," Joe mumbled, staring at the floor.

"Steven?"

Joe nodded, looking ashamed. "Some of the guys held me down while he punched me."

Fenton sighed, his heart aching for his little boy who was growing up so fast. Wasn’t it just yesterday when Joe’s first instinct was to come running to Daddy to solve his problems? How had his boys become young men without his noticing?

"I really screwed up, Dad. I’m sorry."

Fenton rested a hand on Joe’s shoulder. "It’s okay to screw up, Joe. That’s how we learn. But they key is learning from it."

Joe looked up questioningly, but remained silent, waiting for Fenton to elaborate.

"Working alone, not letting anyone know where you are or how to find you is incredibly dangerous. Even when you’re doing things that seem mundane like surveillance or following a trail just to verify facts, you should always make sure your partner knows where you are," Fenton explained, relieved to see Joe appeared to be eager to listen – and learn.

"But you almost always work alone," Joe pointed out.

Fenton chuckled, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "I guess that makes Sam nothing more than chopped liver," he replied, referring to his long time assistant, Sam Radley. "I know it may appear as if I’m working alone but unless it’s something that requires absolute secrecy, Sam always knows where I am and how to contact me," Fenton continued. "We always keep in touch with each other and we each know where the other is supposed to be – even when we are working on separate cases." Fenton shrugged as he acknowledged his own failing. "I didn’t realize until just now that you and Frank didn’t know that. I guess I fell down on the job. That’s one of the first and most important lessons I should have taught you."

Joe sat up a little straighter, now understanding what his father was saying. "So my taking off with Steven wasn’t necessarily the problem. It was not making sure Frank knew exactly where I was, or at least that he had some way to track me."

"Right!" Fenton smiled broadly, letting Joe bask in the glory of his realization for a moment before turning serious. "That’s a very important lesson to learn, Joe. If you had been up against professionals tonight, I could be in the morgue right now identifying your body, instead of waiting for the results of some x-rays."

Fenton saw the flash of guilt in Joe’s eyes and quickly changed his strategy. "I think it goes without saying I much prefer you alive!" he winked, lightening the somber mood.

"Me, too!" Joe concurred with grin.

Pulling up a chair, Fenton sat down and gazed at Joe. "I heard the tape you made tonight, and while I’m proud of you for what you did, I’m also a little… concerned."

He watched the expression on Joe’s face change and knew he was in for at least a mild confrontation. Joe had always been a little rebellious, but he seemed to have taken it to a new level since hitting his teens.

"Good-natured, ‘boys will be boys’ teasing is one thing," Fenton began earnestly. "But what they did to you – and the others – is assault. And hazing in any form is strictly forbidden at Bayport High. As for ‘breaking in’ freshman girls… that could entail anything from offensive touching to rape." Fenton shook his head. He felt as though he should be frustrated with his son but he wasn’t. He found that he was proud Joe wanted to take on this cause, and defend those who were being bullied and persecuted, on his own. Still, he wanted to make sure Joe understood that while his intentions were good, he made some mistakes along the way. Mistakes that, had he been dealing with professional criminals, could have easily gotten him killed. "You should’ve come to me as soon as the trouble started."

Fenton waited for Joe’s reply not at all surprised at the look of defiance that momentarily flashed in Joe’s blue eyes.

"Yeah, right," Joe rolled his eyes. "It’s bad enough that my big brother wants to fight my battles for me. If Daddy came running in to save the day, I’d be laughed right out of school."

Fenton sighed at Joe’s response, despite it being pretty much what he’d expected.

"Joe," he began. "I understand that you need to get off on the right foot in high school. I’m not so old that I don’t remember what that was like," Fenton smiled, ignoring the blush that rose in his son’s cheeks. "I know you’d like to handle everything yourself, but admitting you need help does not mean you are weak or a coward. It takes a strong man to ask for help."

Fenton noted Joe’s squirming had increased rapidly and decided to cut short his little speech. "I just wish you would’ve come to me sooner. Even if it was just to let off steam or throw some ideas around."

Noting that Joe was now blushing a bright crimson, Fenton sat back and gazed at him. "Now why don’t I just sit and listen. Maybe if you explain what’s happened up to this point we can figure a way for you to wrap this up."

"Well… uh… actually…" Joe stammered self-consciously. "Oh, heck, Dad! I was gonna tell you everything and ask you to help me tonight. But you kinda took the wind out of my sails," Joe grumbled, looking like he wished the ground would open up and swallow him.

"Nonsense," Fenton smiled. "I have no idea what you’ve accomplished up to this point. For all I know you’ve got this whole thing wrapped up and just need my help to tie up a few loose ends," he said encouragingly and then held his breath.

At times, Joe still wavered between the little boy who would jump at his father’s offer of help and the young man who shunned such offers, feeling he had something to prove on his own. Not knowing who would emerge tonight, Fenton simply waited silently. His patience was rewarded a moment later when a slow smile spread across Joe’s face.

Fenton listened attentively as Joe detailed everything he’d done up to this point and, after congratulating Joe on his efforts, father and son came up with a plan of action to put an end to the hazing at Bayport High for good.

*****

Emerging from the car, Frank walked around to the passenger side and opened the door for Callie, helping her out. They walked up the porch steps, stopping in front of the door. Callie turned and gazed up at Frank, smiling. Suddenly his heart began to race and his mouth felt as dry as the Sahara desert.

"I’m glad Joe’s okay," Callie said. "But is he always so… so…" she frowned, searching for the right word.

"Wild? Crazy? Strong-willed? Hardheaded? STUBBORN?!" Frank supplied helpfully.

Callie giggled at Frank’s dead-on description of his younger brother. "Well…yeah."

"Usually," Frank replied with a scowl.

"At least his heart is in the right place." She stepped a little closer, placing her hand on his chest. Frank prayed she couldn’t feel his heart pounding beneath her fingers. "And so is yours," she murmured.

Frank knew if he stopped to think, to try to decide if they were moving too fast, their burgeoning relationship might never get off the ground. What was it Joe was always telling him?

Hoping Joe was right, Frank slid his arms around Callie’s waist and gently pulled her closer. As he leaned down, she slipped her arms around his neck, tilting her head up. Frank thought of how perfectly she fit into his arms, as if they were made for each other. He leaned closer still, hoping he would remember every single detail of their first kiss.

"Hi, honey. This must be your new friend Frank."

Hearing the male voice, Frank jumped out of Callie’s arms as if he’d been struck by lightning. His heart was racing so fast he was sure it was about to explode. Now flattened against the porch railing, Frank looked up and saw a man about his father’s age standing in the open doorway staring at Frank and doing his best to suppress a grin that was desperately trying to escape.

"Hello, Daddy," Callie replied, looking at Frank with a disappointed smile. "Daddy, this is Frank Hardy. Frank, this is my father, Edward Shaw."

"H-h-hello M-mr. Shaw. It’s a pleasure to meet you," Frank stuttered accepting the older man’s outstretched hand. ‘Please just let me die of embarrassment right now!’

"It’s nice to finally meet you Frank. Callie has told us quite a bit about you," Edward smiled, his eyes twinkling with friendly amusement. He turned and looked at Callie, motioning towards the door. "Come on in, honey. It’s late and it’s a school night. You can talk to Frank tomorrow."

Callie reached out and gave Frank’s hand a quick squeeze, shrugging apologetically. "See you tomorrow. Tell Joe I hope he’s feeling better."