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Discoveries	By : vinsmouse Category: G through L > Hardy Boys Series Views: 3022 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own The Hardy Boys, not making any money, just cheap thrills.

Chapter List
- 1-Discoveries
- 2-Two
- 3-three
- 4-Four
- 5-Five
- 6-Six
- 7-Seven
- 8-Eight
- 9-Nine
- 10-Ten
- 11-Eleven
- 12-Twelve
- 13-Thirteen
- 14-Fourteen
- 15-Fifteen
- 16-Sixteen
- 17-Seventeen
- 18-Eighteen
- 3
- 4
- 5
Disclaimer: I don't own the Hardy Boys, not making any money, just cheap thrills.
Warnings: Angst, Slash
Rating: FRT
Discoveries
Chapter 4
Frank gaped at his little brother, this couldn't be happening his overwhelmed mind tried to deny. "I...I'm your brother," he finally managed to get out.
"I'll get the doctor," Fenton said, hurrying from the room.
"I don't have a brother." Joe closed his eyes, why would the guy be doing this? It didn't make any sense, "Who is he?" he asked, with a nod towards Fenton's back.
"He's our dad," Frank quietly replied.
"Why are you doing this? My dad died when I was little, by the time I was eight I was alone and in foster care," Joe bitterly informed the man claiming to be his brother. Before the older boy could think of anything to say, the man this boy said was his dad came back.
"The doctor will be here soon," Fenton informed them as he came back into the room. Looking down at Joe, he gently brushed the hair from his bangs, "How are you doing son?"
Raising his head from the pillow, he snapped, "I'm not your son!" Joe instantly regretted his fit of temper as it sent spikes of pain through his head. Grabbing the sides of his head, he lay his head back, squeezing his eyes tightly closed, he let loose a small whimper. "Why are you doing this?" he whispered.
"Calm down Joe," Fenton soothed his youngest. Exchanging a worried glance with Frank, he prayed the doctor would get here soon.
"How do you know my name?" Joe asked.
"Why don't we wait for the doctor to examine you, then we can see about answering your questions," Fenton suggested.
"Okay," Joe softly agreed. Truthfully he was too tired and his head ached too much to argue. He sure hoped the doctor would give him something to make the pain stop, or at least take the edge off of it. Nobody said anything after that, the three of them waiting in silence for the doctor to arrive.
"Hello, I'm Dr. Edwards," the tall, balding man introduced himself as he entered the room. Moving to the end of the bed, he picked up the chart and glanced through it. "How bad is your pain Joe?" he asked.
"Bad, could I have something for it?" Joe whimpered pitifully.
"Soon, first I need to ask you a few questions, is that okay?" The boy had taken more than one blow to the head, though thankfully only the one seemed to have been truly severe. However, one could never tell what effect a head injury could have on a patient and until he knew more he couldn't, in good conscience, give him anything for the pain.
"Okay."
"Can you tell me what day it is?" he smiled, making a note when Joe gave the correct date. "Who is the president of the United States?" again the boy answered correctly. "Do you know where you are?"
"In the hospital?"
Dr. Edwards chuckled, "Yes that's true, but I meant do you know what city you're in?"
"Oh; New York City. I just moved here, I used to live in Middleton."
The doctor raised an eyebrow at this, he had been under the impression the patient was from Bayport. "How old are you Joe?"
"I'm eighteen, just had a birthday a few days ago."
Dr. Edwards nodded, that was partially correct. According to the records given him by the patient's father, he was eighteen but his birthday had been several months previous. "Joe, can you tell me your full name and who the members of your family are?"
"My name is Joe Aaron Harris," he calmly answered. Oblivious to the gasps coming from the two men claiming to be his family, he went on. "I don't have any family, they all died when I was little."
"I see," he mumbled, making notes.
"Doctor, can I speak to you for a moment?" Fenton asked, nodding towards the hallway.
"Of course, I'll be right back Joe," he assured his patient. Following the other man into the hall, he quietly closed the door behind him. "Mr. Hardy, can you explain why your son would believe himself to have no family?"
"Yes doctor I can. You see I'm a private detective and though they're young, my sons sometimes help me. Joe has been working undercover on a case and the information he gave you matches his cover story."
"I see, most unusual," the doctor commented.
"Is there anything you can do for him doctor?"
"I'm afraid in a case like this the only cure is time," the doctor sadly replied.
"So we just take him home and hope his memory returns?" Deep inside, he had known that would be the case but he had hoped, that somehow, the doctor would have a way to help his youngest.
"Actually Mr. Hardy, that may not be the best idea."
"What do you mean?"
"Joe believes himself to be this person you created for a case, if you try to force him to go home with you he will very likely run at the first opportunity."
"What else can I do?"
"What were his living arrangements, as Joe Harris?"
"He has an apartment, his brother has one in the same building and they're working undercover at the same place," Fenton explained.
"So, if he returned to his life as Joe Harris, he wouldn't be truly alone?"
"No, I suppose not, but surely you're not suggesting I let him continue as Joe Harris?" Fenton was shocked, how could the doctor even hint at such a thing?
"Yes Mr. Hardy, that is exactly what I am suggesting. Usually, in a case such as this, the patient would either have total amnesia, or would suffer either short-term or long-term memory loss. What I mean is, if not a complete amnesiac, Joe should either be unable to remember recent events, while recalling those from long ago, or the reverse should be true. I have never seen a patient who remembers a false identity but not the true one. Frankly Mr. Hardy, I believe that if you force Joe to return to his life as your son you may very well lose him forever; as faced with the dichotomy of the two separate lives he will cling firmly to the only one he remembers. If you let him continue living as Joe Harris, he will most likely regain his true memories as he heals."
"But he's only eighteen," Fenton protested. "How can I allow this?"
"You said his brother is in the same building and workplace, he can keep an eye on Joe. It is of course up to you, but as Joe is an adult, unless he is declared incompetent by the courts, I will be forced to abide by his wishes."
Fenton glared at the other man, "Meaning?"
Dr. Edwards sighed, "Meaning that if Joe is physically well enough to be released I cannot dictate where he must go. Furthermore, while he is in the hospital he will be able to decide for himself who he will see and who he will not."
Fenton nodded, when this case had started he had never expected to be faced with a decision like this. Without another word, he pushed open the door and stepped back into the room, followed by the doctor.
"Doc, please can I have something for the pain?" Joe whimpered as soon as he saw the balding man.
"Soon Joe, just a one more question," the doctor gently replied. "Do you remember what happened to you?"
Joe closed his eyes tightly, memories of the attack instantly rising to the surface. "I was walking...killing time before work...they jumped me...tried to fight them...too many...dragged me into alley...brass knuckles...hitting me...again and again...last thing I remember...Red grinning." By now Joe was nearly hyperventilating as he recalled the events that led to him being hospitalized.
"Calm down Joe, you're safe now. Nobody can hurt you here," the doctor soothed. "I'm going to have the nurse bring you something for the pain, in the meantime is there anything else you need?"
"No...oh man, did anybody call my work?"
"Where do you work?"
"Global Import/Export, down on the docks."
"I'll make sure somebody notifies them, okay?"
"Ask for Tim Jones, he's my boss."
"Got it, you try to get some rest now." Making a few more notes on the chart, he left the room.
"Why are you still here?" Joe asked the other two men after the doctor left.
Fenton shot Frank a warning look, he didn't have time to explain right now. "I wanted to explain the misunderstanding."
"Misunderstanding?" Joe asked.
"Yes, you see my son Joseph is missing and you look a lot like him, so the police called me and told me they thought they'd found my son. Of course I rushed right down here, and you do look a lot like my Joseph, but I see now that you're not."
Joe watched the other man as he struggled to get his emotions under control, "You must love him a lot."
Fenton swallowed hard, "I do, I would give anything to have him back home."
"I hope you find him soon, I'm sorry you came down here for nothing." Though it wasn't his fault, he felt badly for the other man and couldn't help wishing there was something he could do for him.
Frank stared at his father, unable to believe his ears. What is dad doing? He couldn't be thinking of letting Joe continue to think he was Joe Harris? Didn't he understand it wasn't safe? What are you thinking Frank? Of course he doesn't know, you haven't told him yet.
"Thank you Joe," Fenton quietly responded. He smiled gently at the boy, even with the confusion over his identity, his Joe was still in there somewhere, his compassionate nature shining through. "We'll leave you to rest now, I hope you're feeling better soon."
"Thank you," Joe whispered.
Fenton grabbed Frank's arm, pulling him from the room before he had the chance to protest. "Not here Frank," he cut him off the moment they were out of the room. He knew his oldest had questions, but he couldn't chance Joe overhearing and it causing him to become upset. Leading the boy down the hall, he guided him into a small room set aside for the families of patients. Shutting the door behind him, he filled Frank in on what the doctor had said and his decision to go along with the suggestion.
"Dad you can't do that," Frank protested immediately. "It's not safe."
"Frank I told you what the doctor said and I believe he's right. Joe is eighteen, if we force him home he'll only leave and we may lose him for good. This way, there's a good chance his memories will return, giving your brother back to us."
"What if he remembers while he's with Dale and he blows his cover?" Frank asked. Just tell him the truth, his conscience whispered. I can't, not unless there's no other choice.
Fenton scratched his head, "I know it's a risk Frank, but if Joe runs he doesn't know anybody except Dale. At least this way you're in a position to keep an eye on him."
"Dad there's something you don't know, I just found out myself last night."
"Something that affects Joe's safety?"
"Yes sir, I was hoping he'd realize the danger of it and stop but now..."
"The danger of what son?" Fenton's voice was tight with suppressed emotion as he wondered what his impetuous youngest had gotten himself into now.
Frank took a deep breath, there wasn't really any easy way to say it. "Joe's been pretending to be gay and interested in Dale," he blurted out.
"He's what?" Fenton asked, shocked to the core. Of all the things Frank might say, this one had never entered his mind. His eyes softened as he realized what Frank was doing, "Son, I know you're worried about your brother, but next time come up with something a little more plausible."
"You think I'm lying?"
Fenton chuckled, "Joe pretending to be gay, why that would be like Chet Morton pretending to be a model. It's simply preposterous, though I will give you credit, you had me going for a second. Look Frank, I'm not crazy about this idea either, but right now it seems like the best option. Please just do your best to take care of your brother; and son, if you're going to make up a story to convince me of a danger, make it more believable," he smiled.
Frank shook his head, he couldn't believe his father thought he was making it up. "Fine Dad, we'll do this your way," he reluctantly gave in. "I just hope it doesn't blow up in our faces."
Tim rushed into the break room where he knew he'd find Dale Morris, "You can stop making phone calls."
Dale stood up, his face lighting up, "He's here?"
"No, but we know where he is," Tim quickly added when he saw the effect his answer had.
"Where?" Dale anxiously asked, terrified that Tim would say Joe was dead.
"Relax Dale, he's alive," Tim soothed. He smiled broadly, "You've really got it bad for this kid don't you?"
"Where is he?" Dale asked, ignoring Tim's question.
"He's at City hospital, he was mugged this morning. Sounds like they worked him over pretty good."
"Can I..."
"Go see him," Tim interrupted. They weren't very busy and he could spare the young man, besides if he was worrying about Joe he wouldn't be of much use anyway.
"Thanks," Dale grinned. Barely taking the time to clock out, he all but ran out of the break room. The moment he was clear of the building, he took off running for the subway, needing to reach Joe as soon as possible. Though there was plenty of room in the subway at this time of day, Dale remained standing. He was entirely too nervous to sit, he just hoped that Joe was going to be okay. Finally, after what seemed like hours, he arrived at the hospital and raced inside.
"No running young man, this is a hospital you know," an elderly lady admonished him.
"Yes ma'am, I'm sorry," he apologized. Forcing himself to slow down, he made his way to the information desk. Armed with Joe's room number, and a stuffed bear he'd gotten in the gift shop, he headed upstairs to the younger man's room. Stepping off the elevator, he paid no attention to the people around him, his focus on finding Joe and seeing for himself that he would be okay. Slowly pushing open the door, he moved inside the room and closed the door. Turning to face the room, he gasped in shock at the sight which greeted him. "Oh Joe," he whispered. Slowly he crossed the room, sinking into the chair next to the bed where Joe lay sleeping. "Oh baby, what did they do to you?" he softly questioned as he brushed back the hair from his Joe's face.
Moaning softly, Joe fought his way towards consciousness. Blinking open his eyes, he smiled when he saw Dale, "Hi," he rasped.
Immediately Dale grabbed the water pitcher next to the bed and poured Joe a glass. Slipping his arm behind the younger man, he helped him sit up so he could drink it. "Better?"
"Yeah, thanks," Joe smiled, leaning back against the pillow.
"How bad is it?"
"Not too bad, cuts and bruises, a couple of cracked ribs and a concussion," Joe rattled off the list of injuries. "Sorry to worry you."
"I should have come by this morning, if I had you wouldn't have gotten hurt."
"Not your fault Dale," Joe quickly assured him. "Unless you'd come by real early you would've missed me anyway."
"How's that?"
"I woke up early, so I went for a walk to kill time. I wasn't really paying attention to where I was."
"Aww Joe, baby, you've got to be more careful in the city. There's all kind of creeps out there that will hurt you any chance they get."
Joe blushed at the term of endearment, nobody had cared about him in so long he'd forgotten what it was like. "Believe me, I know that now. There were three of them, two held me while the third one," he shuddered, "used brass knuckles."
"Oh god," Dale gasped, realizing just how close he had come to losing Joe. He'd seen the kind of damage those things could do, "Please Joe, promise me you won't go out alone again."
"I promise," Joe easily gave into the request. He wasn't in a hurry for this to happen again, but mostly he wanted to wipe that worried, horrified expression from Dale's face. "What's that?" he nodded toward the bear held in Dale's other hand.
Dale looked down, smiling softly. "I got him for you, somebody to keep you company when I'm not around," he explained with a blush.
Joe smiled, his eyes lighting up with pleasure. "Thank you Dale, I can't remember the last time somebody gave me something so special."
"You're welcome baby," Dale grinned. Leaning down, he gently brushed a kiss over Joe's lips, "I'm glad you like him."
"You got him for me," Joe smiled, as if that explained it all and for him it did.
"Did the doctor say when you could go home?"
"I know he wants me to stay overnight for observation, I'm not sure about after that."
"You think they'd mind if I stayed the night?" Dale asked.
"I hope not, I really don't want to be alone," Joe replied with a soft smile.
"Then I'm staying," Dale decided. If Joe wanted him here, there was nothing anybody could do to keep him away.
"Thank you," Joe whispered. Feeling safe with Dale here, Joe grabbed the older man's hand in his, holding it over his heart. With his bear in his other arm, he drifted to sleep, secure in the knowledge that Dale would be here when he woke.
- 3
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- 5
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