A/N Here is the story I have been promising a few of you. I hope you enjoy my view of the Hardy Boys meet theWinchesters.

For those of you not really sure about the Hardy universe this is based off of the casefiles stories. Where the brothers seem to have some great personalities and things actaully go wrong sometimes. Another words its a bit more realistic. I am going to try and write it so you wont need to have too much knowledge of the Hardy universe, but feel free to ask any questions you may have.

Of Ghouls, Thieves, and Baseball

"So are we thinking this is a poltergeist?" Sam questioned as he hefted the carryall bag from the trunk of the impala.

"Probably, might as well bring a few things just in case. It still might just be a nasty ghost." Dean didn't even turn around with his reply. His gaze was fixed on the mansion looming before him. "At least it doesn't look like it has been deserted for the last fifty years. The porch looks like it should hold up to your lard ass."

Sam didn't even dignify the childish comment with an answer. "Lets get this over with. I am tired, and I want a shower."

Stealthily, Sam fallowed his brother, who was in full hunter mode. He admired his brother's instincts and unerring sense of direction. He watched the rear, amazed that Dean seemed to know where they were going in the house. In mere minutes, they were on the second floor in an old library that the attacks were reputed to stem from.

Once he got the 'all clear for the moment' signal from Dean, Sam set the bag on the ground and proceeded to remove the items that they would need for the poltergeist. A noise just outside the library doors brought Sam's eyes up to meet his brothers. Pausing for a moment, he watched the split decision go across his brother's face. Accepting the nod to continue what he was doing, he moved his gun a little closer as he wearily continued to pull the needed items from the bag.

The door suddenly banged open as two men came instantly through, with guns raised. Sam was up in a moment's flash, his gun aimed and ready. There was a moment of deadly stillness in the room as the occupants eyed each other.

"Frank!"

"Dean!"

"Sam!"

"Joe!"

To say he was stunned was an understatement. The last place he ever expected to run into the Hardy Boys was in Kansas. Let a lone a haunted house. It may have been ten years since they had all been together, but people like them left an impression that was hard to forget.

New York Ten Years Earlier

Sam watched his brother's pursed lips as he drove. From the corner of his eye he watched as his Dean moved his arm from the steering wheel to rub absently his shoulder. Sam even caught the slight wince that Dean tried to hide from him. He couldn't take it anymore. "Dean-"

"Don't!" Sam was cut off before he could even begin. He knew that his brother shouldn't be driving in his condition, but dad was adamant about them getting to New York by nightfall.

"But-"

"Sam!" Dean growled at him, not even bothering to glance at the younger man. "I don't need you as a distraction right now. Dad said 'follow,' so we are following. Got it?"

Sam closed his eyes. His clenched his jaw tightly. Able to growl out an affirmative, he turned to look out the window.

His dad was being pig headed. One more day wouldn't have made a difference. It was just some stupid haunted forest. The papers said that people were staying away. Sam did the research himself. He knew it was a solid case. Even at his thirteen years of life, he was good at what he did. Since his father was way over protective of him and he got left behind quite often, Sam had started to take on the responsibilities of researching. Whether it was the current case or one for the future.

But that didn't mean that he didn't occasionally make mistakes. Currently, he knew that while he was pissed at his father for not having Dean's back, he was really angry with himself for screwing up the case. He had said it was just a really pissed off spirit, and they had believed him. But it was really ten extremely pissed off spirits. While things had ended in their favor, not all of the Winchester's had made it out fine.

Dean had ended up with a concussion, dislocated shoulder, and too many bruises to count. Dean really needed a day to rest, but Dad was ready to head to this haunted forest before it killed anyone else. So Dean, being Dean, started to pack his stuff once he was able to get to his feet. Sam had even fought with their father about it, saying that Dean could barely walk straight.

Dean, ever the good soldier, immediately stood up straight and walked a straight line for his father, proving that he was fine and could follow directions like he had been told.

So now they were here, in New York, heading towards a haunted forest. Sam snorted to himself. At least he would be in school for most of this hunt.

He refocused in front of him when he felt the Impala slow down. He noticed their father's truck in front of them pulling away as it dodged around the rocks and fallen boulders. Sighing, Sam looked up the cliffside. Must have been a rockslide in the storm they had driven through a few hours back. Leave it to their father to pick a back road that most people wouldn't drive on, and therefore wasn't the top list of roads to clear.

He did a double take when he saw something moving on the top of the cliffside. "Dean!" was all he got out as something went flying through the air and landed on the hood of the impala.

"Shit!" Dean exclaimed in surprise as he hit the brakes. The something turned out to be a someone. Dean and Sam looked at each other for a moment before they both undid their seatbelts and cautiously climbed out of the impala. Dean nodded at Sam to check the person out while he scanned the perimeter.

Sam studied the man before him. He looked to be about Dean's age with blonde hair and similar body build. Sam noticed Bayport High written on the torn and bloody letter jacket. As he reached out to check the pulse, a low moan got his attention.

"Hey," He didn't know what to say. What do you say to someone who just landed on the hood of your car? 'Its going to be ok?' just didn't seem to cut it. But Sam used it anyway. He was relieved when he heard the deep rumble of his dad's truck returning. He would know what to do.

Sam watched as his father climbed cautiously from his truck. "Dean!" he all but barked, he wanted a report.

"I don't see anything, sir." Sam was amazed that Dean had slipped so fast into hunter mode. He was standing with his arms raised, aiming his revolver at the tree line above them. His eyes still scanning as he answered their father.

Sam felt his father step closer and watched as his hands ghosted over the young man, checking the severity of his injuries. When his hands reached the ribs, another moan escaped from the young man, and his hands moved, trying to push the pain away.

"I'm sorry, son, but I gotta check your ribs."

Blue eyes blearily opened. "Who are you?" he whispered.

Sam watched his fathers face as he answered, "I'm John Winchester. May I ask your name?"

The blue eyes studied them both for a moment. "Joe, Joe Hardy." His breath hitched and John's hands ghosted once more over his ribs.

"Well Joe, I'm going to call an ambulance and see about getting you some help. It seems you have a few broken ribs here."

Joe nodded his head as his eyes once again slid shut. Sam was startled when his father pulled his hands away bloody. John absently wiped them on his pants as he went back to his truck and pulled out the cell phone to call 911.

"Dean." This time the tone told Dean to stand down. Dean nodded and slowly put his gun away, turning to Sam and the boy lying on the hood.

"Sam? You good?" His brother's voice brought him out of the daze he had fallen into.

He shook himself once. "Yeah, why would someone do this Dean?"

"I," he paused, "I really don't know."

"An ambulance and the cops are on their way," their father stated as he walked up to them. "Dean, why don't you get a blanket from the trunk."

Sam silently watched as his father and Dean covered the boy in a blanket and tried to keep him comfortable in the cold weather. There was snow on the ground, and Sam noticed that the clouds seemed to be circling around to them again with promise of another winter storm.

He was relived when he heard the sirens in the distance. The young man was starting to shiver uncontrollably on the hood of the impala.

Sam felt his father's stance change as the ambulance pulled as close as it could through the rubble strewn on the ground. Sam turned to watch and noticed the police cars following close behind. He was a little startled to notice the one in front stated it was the police chief's vehicle.

The three Winchesters stepped back and let the paramedics do their work on the young man. Sam was so intent on watching, he missed the first part of the conversation that was going on around him.

Refocusing, once Joe was loaded into the ambulance, he realized that his father was talking with the Chief of Police.

"So, your boys where the ones that found him?"

Sam stared wide-eyed at his brother who couldn't keep the snort from coming out. "No, sir. It was more like he found us."

When the officer looked at him, Dean continued, "Sam and I were following our dad and trying to pick our way through that crap when Sam yelled out to me. Just as I was hitting the brakes, he came flying from that cliff."

Sam tried to school his features to match that of Dean's, trying to look sincere and truthful, backing up his brother's story. It was the truth. Mostly. Dean just neglected to say that there was also some sort of shadow up on the cliff that seemed to blend into the trees moments after the boy hit their car.

Just as the Chief was about to ask them a few more questions, another officer came up. "Chief, I'm sorry. It's Fenton. He's calling about Joe. He wants to know if it's really him."

With a grim face, the Chief turned back to them, "I am sorry. Officer Riley here will have to finish your statements. I need to go and talk with the boy's father."

At the Winchesters' nods he was off, leaving Officer Riley in his wake. "I am sorry for what happened today. But I am so glad you found him. Joe is a great kid. He's been missing for five days. His family has been tearing up the town trying to find him."

Sam was shocked. This boy, about Dean's age, had been taken by something and was gone for five days? He didn't remember reading anything about it in the paper. He knew he had done the research well and it bothered him that he couldn't remember reading anything about it. He avoided his father's gaze, he knew he had disappointed the man, but more importantly he had disappointed himself.

"Can I take a name and a number where you can be reached? This has been a bit of a big case and we might need you to answer some questions later on." At John's nod the officer handed John a pad of paper and a pen to write the information down.

"Will you be staying in the area?"

"Yes," there father answered without looking up. "My boys are being enrolled at Bayport High in the morning. They should be starting next Monday. This is the address of where we will be staying."

"Thank you so much. Once the road is cleared a bit more you can be on your way." With that, the officer headed back to his vehicle to finish the scene with his fellow officers.

John turned to the boys. "Lets keep going, we are almost to the apartment. Then we can do some more research once we get there."

"Yes, sir." Came the automatic reply from both boys. As Sam climbed back into the Impala he started hard at the hood. It would take a long time to get the image of the body landing out of his mind. Even closing his eyes it was forever imprinted there. He vowed once they got to their current place of living he was going to do two things. One, to look up more about this case and the missing Joe Hardy, and two, to see if the boy in question was going to be ok.