Thursday, September 21, 5:05 AM

       “Connor?” Frank called his friend’s name anxiously as he knelt beside the figure lying at his feet and realized without having to see him that it was Joe.  The harshly whispered ‘help’ had been no clue.  This was the instinct of one brother for another in operation.  “Connor, wake up!”

       Frank tried to lift his brother up but Joe outweighed him by a good twenty pounds and Frank could only, at first, drag his brother into the room.  He reached up to his bed and felt for his blanket, then pulled it down to wrap it around his brother’s freezing body.

       “CONNOR, WAKE UP!” he yelled at his roommate, not caring if he woke half the dorm in the process.  He heard Connor stir and heard his sleepy mumble.

       “Connor, help me!” Frank told his sleepy friend.  “Come on, get over here, it’s Joe.”

       Connor was up in an instant.  Frank heard Connor’s feet hit the floor and heard him walking over to where Frank sat beside his brother.  Frank was holding Joe in his lab, trying to get some warmth into him. 

       “My, God, what happened?” Connor asked as he began to chafe at Joe’s feet, or Frank assumed it was Joe’s feet. 

       “I don’t know,” Frank whispered.  “How bad is it?  What does he look like?”

       “It’s bad,” Connor said.  “He’s got a cut around his throat, his wrists and ankles look like they were tied-up at some point.  He’s freezing.  I don’t know how long he was outside but he was outside.   His feet are horrible, Frank, he’s got cuts all over them.”

       “You’d better call Campus Emergency.  I’m sure they’re just going to love this,” Frank said as he continued to rock his brother.  “And then go down to his room, wake Eric and get his sweats and a couple pairs of socks.”

       “All right,” Connor acknowledged and Frank turned his attention to his brother.  He slowly ran his hand along Joe’s throat and felt the cut made there, along with what felt like several other nicks and cuts.  Joe hadn’t stopped shaking since he’d arrived and he felt like ice to Frank’s hands. 

       “Joe,” Frank said, softly, to see if his brother could hear him.  “Joe?  Talk to me, Joe.  Come on, Joe, talk to me.”

       Frank heard a soft whimper but nothing else from his brother.  Frank touched Joe’s cold cheek and felt the tears that were falling.  Frank wrapped his brother up even more tightly in the comforter and held him as tight as he could.  It wasn’t good, it wasn’t good at all. 

       “Who did this?” Frank whispered.  “Who hurt you, Joe?”

       “Don’t… know…” Joe said so softly that Frank almost didn’t hear him.  “Said… stay out… business… said… kill…”

       “Ssh,” Frank said again, wishing he hadn’t asked.  “Ssh, we have help coming, Joe.  It’ll be OK.”

       “Here,” Connor said, suddenly and Frank jumped.  “Give him to us, Frank.  Take this.”

       He felt something thrust into his hands and realized it was a cell phone.   Connor took Joe away from Frank and someone else, probably Eric, pushed Frank carefully out of the way so they could get to Frank’s bed.  Frank stood, numbly, unable to see what they were doing but listening to the rustling of cloth and to Joe’s soft moaning.  Someone took the cell phone back from Frank a moment later and then put it back in his hands.

       “I just dialed your parents,” Connor said. 

       It took only two rings for Fenton Hardy to pick up the phone and say, “Hello?”

       “Dad, it’s Frank,” Frank said in a numb voice.  “Dad, you and mom need to get to the hospital.  Joe… something happened to Joe.”

       That woke Fenton up fully.  “What happened, Frank?”

       “I don’t know,” Frank told him.  “He just showed up at my door and collapsed against me.  He’s freezing, he’s in horrible shape, dad.  We’ve got campus emergency coming.  I know they’ll take him to the hospital.”

       “Frank, what, exactly, is wrong with him?” Fenton asked him.

       “I don’t know!” Frank exclaimed.  “I can’t see him to tell you.  He’s freezing, I know that much.  He was outside in his pajama bottoms.  Connor said his feet are all torn up and he has a cut on his throat and his wrists and ankles are abraded.  He’s not very responsive.  Hold on..”

       He heard the sounds of more people, this time campus emergency, arriving.  He was moved out of the way yet again and he heard the wheels of a gurney being rolled into the room.

       Frank stayed on the phone with his dad but said very little over the next few minutes as the paramedics worked on his brother.  The paramedics worked solemnly, quietly and one of them finally spoke,

       “We’re taking him into the hospital.  He seems to have a case of hypothermia and he needs to get those feet of his looked at.  Would one of you like to ride with us to be with him?”

       “Frank’s his brother,” Connor said to them.  “He should go.”

       “No,” one of the paramedics said. “I’m sorry but we won’t have time to guide him in and out of the ambulance.”

       “You go, Connor,” Frank told his roommate.  “I’ll get Samantha to drive me to the hospital.”

       “I can drive you,” Eric said to Frank.  “Let me go get dressed, I’ll be right back.”

       That brought Frank’s attention around to his own needs and he frowned as he looked in the direction of his closet.  Well, if he ended up in odd colored clothing, he’d just have to live with it.  He stayed out of the way while the paramedics loaded Joe onto the gurney and pushed him out of the room.  Connor brushed past Frank on his way out. 

       “This shirt, Frank,” Connor said as he pulled one out of the closet and thrust it into Frank’s hands.  Frank heard Connor open his own closet and pull out some clothing of his own, and then he rushed out of the room.

        Frank changed as quickly as he could manage with shaking hands and fumbled in the closet to find shoes he thought matched.  The easiest were his loafers and he pulled those on without bothering to search for socks.  Eric opened the door a moment later and took Frank’s arm.

       “Come on, Frank,” Eric said as he dragged Frank along behind him.  Frank nearly tripped on his way through the door.

       “Hold up a minute,” Frank told Eric.  “I need my cane and I need my sunglasses, they’re both on the table by my bed.”

       “Oh, yeah, right,” Eric said.  He ran back into the room and grabbed the items in question, then ran back out and took Frank’s arm again.

       “Not like that,” Frank said, drawing on reserves of patience with the younger boy.  “Put my hand on your shoulder and just walk normally.  Let me know if there’s something I should step over or walk around and please don’t run!”

       “Oh, right,” Eric said again.  He did as Frank asked and managed to get Frank to his car without any more mishaps.

       Frank had Eric press in Mandy’s number for him and, to his surprise, she answered on the first ring.

       “Frank, what happened?” she asked in a breathless, teary sounding voice.  “I know something happened.  Is he all right?”

       “He’ll be all right,” Frank told her, not surprised that she already knew that something had happened to Joe.  “He’s… they took him to the hospital.  I don’t really know the story yet, all I know is that he’s got hypothermia, his feet are in bad shape and I don’t know what else.  Eric’s bringing me to the hospital.”

       “I’ll get the girls,” Mandy said in a more composed tone.  “We’ll be there in a half hour.  Tell him to hang on, Frank.  Tell him I’ll throttle him if he dies.”

       “He’s not going to die, Mandy,” Frank told her. 

       “He’d better not,” Mandy started crying again.  “Because I’ll never forgive him if he does!”

       She hung up on Frank then and he sighed and stared out at the darkness while Eric finished the transport to the hospital.  

 

       Gathered once again in the waiting room of Bayport General Hospital, the Hardy Family and friends sat in silence, the only talking the soft murmuring between Samantha and Frank.  Because of his blindness, Frank found silence to be wholly uncomfortable.  He knew in normal situations whole volumes could be said between his family members without anything actually being spoken out loud.  Now that he couldn’t read the facial expressions of his family, Frank felt very much left out of these silent conversations.  Samantha and Joe were the ones who took the time to make sure that things were said out loud.

       Yet, in a way, the silence allowed him to settle.  He was exhausted from worry, from lack of sleep, from the stress of the day before.  He leaned his head onto Samantha’s shoulder and she gently stroked his hair, soothing him.  Frank sighed and closed his eyes again.  The darkness, how he wished he could see something other than the darkness. 

       “Doctor’s here,” Samantha said in his ear a while later and he sat up again and stood. 

       “Fenton, Laura?” Doctor Carlisle said as Sam led Frank across the room to his parents.  “I’ve just come from seeing Joe.  First, let me tell you, he’ll be just fine.  He’s managed to come down with a case of hypothermia.  We had to pull eight thorns out of his right foot and six out of his left, they’ve been carefully cleaned and bandaged and we gave him a tetanus shot for that.  He’s got various other abrasions and cuts all over and various bruises and his ankles and wrists are partly abraded but, all-in-all, I’d say he’s rather lucky.”

       Samantha hugged Frank and he heard sighs of relief from the rest of his family members.  He smiled as he kissed her and swung her around in a circle.

       “Whoa, there, boy,” Samantha laughed.  “We almost collided with a row of chairs.”

       “Oops, sorry,” Frank apologized.

       “I’d like him to spend the night here,” Dr. Carlisle continued.  “If all goes well, I’ll release him in the morning.  He’s to stay off his feet as much as possible for several days, until they get a chance to heal up.”

       “We’ll see that he does,” Laura said with determination.  “Can we see him?”

       “Two at a time please,” the Doctor said.  “He’s still in the emergency ward.  They’ll move him up to a regular room when they get a chance.”

       “Mom, you and Vanessa go,” Frank told his mother.  “I’ll go with dad when you’re done.”

       “All right,” Laura said mildly.  Sam led Frank back to some chairs and they sat.

 

       “Hello, baby brother,” Fenton had led Frank right up to Joe’s bed and put Frank’s hand down on top of Joe’s.  “How are you feeling?”

       “Like I just did a hundred rounds with a very mean mountain lion,” Joe said in a husky voice. 

       “You should see how you look,” Frank said with a grin.  “I’d say about normal, on average.”

       “Ha,” Joe said.  “I’m more handsome than ever.  Girls will fawn over my every cut and bruise.  They will glory in the wonder that is Joe Hardy and wish they had a chance to get even remotely close to me.”

       “Says he who has no ego at all,” Frank laughed.  “I’m glad you’re feeling better, you scared the daylights out of me.  And I don’t want to be you when Mandy gets her hands on you.  I think she’s still settling out in the waiting room.  Hold onto your hat when she does get in here.”

       “What happened, Joe?” Fenton interrupted them.  “Do you remember anything?”

       Joe’s hand seemed to spasm under Frank’s hand and Frank heard him give a sharp intake of breath.  For a minute, it seemed to Frank that Joe was scared stiff.  Frank would have given a vital body part to be able to see Joe just then. 

       “Take it slow, son,” Fenton said, softly, his hand covering Frank and Joe’s.  “Take it slow and easy.”

       Joe did, at that, sounding scared and small to Frank all the way through.  Joe told it in fits and starts, beginning with falling asleep at his desk in his room, to waking up with a knife at his throat, to a harrowing journey through the woods behind the dorm and having to free himself from what might have been sure death if he had stayed.  Joe trembled the whole time he told the story and, for the first time in a long time, Frank knew that Joe was genuinely scared. 

       And that fact alone terrified Frank.  Joe had been in situations that seemed a lot worse than this, had looked certain dangers in the face and seemed to laugh at them.  Now Joe acted like he wanted to hide under the covers and never come out again.  Frank reached out his other hand and found Joe’s face and felt the tears Joe was crying. 

       “You’re safe now, Joe,” Frank whispered to his brother as he knelt beside the bed.  “You’re safe now.  We’ll do everything in our power to make sure he doesn’t get you again.  I’ll sleep outside your door if I have to.”

       “I’m not going to let them beat me,” Joe whispered harshly.  “I was never so scared in my life, Frank, but… but I have to get them.  I can’t back down because they scared me.  If I do, I may as well never be a detective again.  I may as well find something else to do with my life.”

       Frank smiled at him and squeezed his hand.

       “Anyway, I’ll be fine when I’ve gotten some more sleep,” Joe continued.  “And that looks like something you need too, Frank.”

       “Well, I did get this wake-up call fairly early this morning,” Frank said, dryly.  “But I’ll manage soon enough.  I’d like to see you squared away first.”

       Joe gripped Frank’s hand tightly and the two brothers were silent for several minutes.  Frank didn’t need to see his brother’s eyes to talk to him.  And Frank didn’t need to hear Joe’s words to know of his brother’s distress.  They separated only when a pair of orderlies arrived to bring Joe to his new room.  Frank stood with his father until Joe was gone from the room.

       “I think I should stay here with him,” Frank said.  “Dad, I haven’t ever seen him that scared before.”

       “Frank,” Fenton sounded dubious.  “Why don’t you let your mother stay with him today?  I know he got scared and I know you want to keep him safe.  Let’s let your mother do the mothering for a little while, though.  I think they both need it.”

       Frank sighed but finally agreed.  His mother probably did need it, though why she would want to spend the night in the hospital, yet again, was beyond him.  Fenton led Frank from the room and down the Hall, where someone, Samantha Frank noticed, took Frank’s arm and continued the trek up to Joe’s new room.

       “We can’t stay long, but we wanted to say goodnight, Joe, and get well,” Mandy told her twin.  Frank stood at the back of the room, listening as everyone said good-bye, until he went up to take his turn.

       “I’ll see you later, little brother,” Frank told him, softly.  “And don’t worry…”

       He leaned in close so he could whisper in Joe’s ear.

       “I’ll keep the monsters away.”

 

       Connor and Frank rode back to the campus with Eric and went to bed almost immediately.  Frank was exhausted; he felt like he had gone through the wringer, both emotionally and physically.  He only had another two hours before his first class and he lay down to nap for an hour.

       Sleep was elusive.  When Frank closed his eyes he heard, very clearly, the fear in Joe’s voice.  He had no problem imagining the anxiety that Joe felt or the anxious look that had probably been on Joe’s face.  From the death of Iola to the supposed death of their father, to every fight they ever had with the Assassins, Joe had face them all with so much bravado that it made Frank cringe.  His brother never backed away from a fight.  Something happened this night that changed Joe.  Something happened that made him no longer certain. 

       Frank had no idea why.  Joe had been kidnapped before.  Joe had even been hospitalized before.  A jaunt through the woods in cold, half-dressed conditions and threatened by a madman was up their alley of normal events.  Frank sighed and rolled over on his side. He stared out at his own personal darkness, seeing clearly the face of his brother, imagining the terror he felt.  He wondered just what occurred out in that dark forest last night.  What demons had Joe seen out there?

       The alarm clock woke him before he was aware he had even gone back to sleep and he rolled backward, fumbling for the snooze button.  The very noisy bleeping sound died away a second later and he sighed with relief.  Connor mumbled something from his bed but Frank ignored him.

       As Frank showered again and dressed, he made a mental note of the things he had to do that day.  It was his busiest day, filled with classes, computer labs and a chemistry lab session.  He wanted to have Connor help him check the area, to find out if those gang members were anywhere around.  He really wanted to find out who tried to kill his brother.  He needed to go and visit Joe in the hospital or, if he was released today, to visit Joe at home.  That meant finding someone to drive him around.

       Frank sighed and shook his head.   The reality of being blind was starting to settle in even harder on his shoulders and he was feeling helpless.  It was easy, when he was busy and accomplishing things, to feel he could still do what he wanted to do.  That became instantly harder when he had to rely on others to do so much for him.  How much patience could his friends and family really have with him?  It seemed a distinct possibility that, later, they would find it a terrible burden.

       Frank leaned against the bathroom sink as he toweled his hair and fumbled for the electric razor he now used on his face.  He was not giving his friends and family enough credit, he thought, glumly.  And he had no business feeling sorry for himself when Joe was the one who was injured and sick and scared.  He was the older brother.  It was time to remember that fact.

       By the time Frank was done dressing, Connor was moving around the room and, by the sounds of it, digging into his closet looking for clean socks.  Frank shook his head and grinned as he came out of the bedroom.  Something hit him right on the nose and he gave a start before he let out a startled protest.

       “I saw you laughing, Hardy,” Connor told his roommate.  “It called for a fast and swift retaliation before you got too full of yourself.”

       “Oh, don’t worry, MacKenzie,” Frank said to his roommate.  “Believe me, I understand all too well.  And when the time is right, I know you’ll understand when I feel the need for retaliation myself.”

       Frank took his cane and used it to guide himself back to his bed.  The clothing he was to wear today was already lying on top of his bed and he reminded himself, again, that he was going to work out a system where he could pick out his own clothes.  Not that he thought Connor didn’t make good choices, but he wanted to make his own. 

       “Is this a tie day for you?” Connor asked from the folds of a very deep pile of laundry in his closet.  Frank knew it was laundry because nothing else could muffle Connor’s voice like that.  “I didn’t get one cause I couldn’t remember.”

       “No tie day,” Frank said as he pulled on his shirt.  “I have that lecture series on Mondays that I have to wear a tie for, you know, to pull off the professional look.”

       “Hey, if you get yourself one of those trench coat things, you could be an FBI agent,” Connor told him.  “Goes with your glasses, you know.”

       “Hmm,” Frank said, pretending to consider Connor’s point.  “Maybe I’ll talk to Mom about getting one of those.  See if we can get one to match the cane, that look oughtta go over big with them.”

       Connor sniggered and finally, with a satisfied cry, came out of his closet.  “I knew it was in there somewhere!”

       “Knew what was in there?” Frank asked.

       “Mandy’s sweater,” Connor said.  “She left it here last week, when I, uh, got overzealous with a soda can.”

       Frank thought about saying something, then shook his head and concentrated on tucking his shirt into his trousers.  Some things were better left unasked, this was one of them.

       Both boys gave a start a moment later when a very loud siren pierced out of nowhere.  Connor gave a startled yelp of astonishment, then grabbed Frank’s arm and dragged him toward the door.

       “Fire alarm!” Connor told him, unnecessarily.  “Come on, Frank!”

       They ran out into the Hallway, Frank bumping quite hard against the doorway on the way out of his room and again on the doorway at the end of the Hall.  He managed the stairs easily enough but hit his elbow on the door going out so hard it went almost numb.

       “Where’s the fire?” Frank asked Connor when they were out of the dorm and standing in the parking lot. 

       “Not sure, there’s smoke coming out of the other end of our floor…” Connor said, slowly.  “Frank, I think that’s Joe’s room.”

       “Joe’s not there, he’s in the hospital,” Frank said, confused.  “Why would his room be on fire?”

       “I don’t know,” Connor said.  “But it looks like someone’s in his room, Frank.  I can see a shadow up there.  You don’t think…?”

       “Eric?”

       “Stay here,” and suddenly, Connor was gone.

The Hardy Boys belong to Simon and Schuster and the Stratemeyer Foundation. I've only borrowed them to play with for a while but I promise to return them whenever I've finished with them.  (I make no promises as to condition, that's entirely up to them).  I promise, I'm only writing for fun and I'm not making a single dime off of this (unless you count personal fulfillment).