Disclaimer: I do not own the Hardy Boys or any of the canon book characters, and am making no monies from this story. Any Original Characters belong to the author(s).

This story was originally written in the early 2000s. There are many technological differences from today's world. Co-written with RokiaHDA, who wrote back then under the name of Aspen.

September Reprise

By EvergreenDreamweaver and RokiaHDA

Chapter 6

Vanessa slipped through the bedroom door quietly, leaving it ajar, testing the amount of light which extended into the room. Looks about right, she thought, stepping over to the bed. "Megan? You awake, hon?"

"Uh-huh." The other girl's muffled tones came almost immediately in answer. "I guess those pills the doctor gave me aren't working."

"Either one? Not the pain pill either?"

"I d'know…maybe. I d'know how bad I'd hurt without it."

Vanessa pulled a chair close to the bedside and sat down. "Someone's here to see you."

Megan inhaled sharply. "Frank?" she whispered.

"Uh-huh. He really, really wants to see you, Meggie. Please say he can."

"No – no!" Tears were close, in that blurred voice. "He can't—"

"How about if it's dark, like this? No lights on. He wouldn't be able to see you, but he'd be here, honey. Wouldn't that be all right? Megan, don't you want him here? Really?" Vanessa persisted.

There was a long pause. Then: "Yes…I want him. I guess…that would be okay." Megan gulped, and sniffled. "If the lights stay off."

Whew! Vanessa breathed a sigh of relief. This had gone easier than she'd expected. Maybe the sedative had worked to calm Megan's fears, rather than putting her to sleep. "Okay, I'll bring him."

"Van, wait – I'm scared." Megan reached for her friend's hand, and gripped it tightly. "I'm really scared."

Vanessa squeezed the cold little hand, hard. "Megan – darling, it's Frank! You've never been afraid of Frank in all the time you've known him!"

"Doesn't make—any difference." Megan whispered forlornly, and released her hand. "I never looked – like this – before."

###

All too soon, in Megan's opinion, footsteps approached her room, and the door opened again. A tall figure was silhouetted against the light streaming in from the hallway, and then the door was swung almost closed. Only the smallest rays were admitted, leaving her bedroom in near-total darkness.

"Megan – Baby?"

"Frank…." The word was difficult to enunciate, between the painful cuts and the now-advanced swelling of Megan's lips. But it was clear enough to her listener. With two long strides, Frank was in the chair beside the bed, reaching for her in the dimness.

"Baby – oh, baby…" Frank found one outstretched hand; then, very, very gently, he gathered her up, shoving the plastic bags of ice aside, cradling her against his shoulder as best he could with only one arm. It was awkward, with his cast in the way, and he was afraid he might hurt her. He could feel her shuddering against him. "It's all right, it's all right," he crooned. "I'm here now – everything's going to be all right – shhh, don't cry, don't cry, Megan….Oh, God, love, I was so scared when Mom told me about the accident! The thought of something happening to you…."

"I'm…so…sorry…" Megan felt a tight knot begin to dissolve inside her as she nestled against him; as if the hot tears streaming down her face were finally melting the icy internal core of fear and desolation she had held within since the accident. She was still very apprehensive about Frank's reaction to her ravaged appearance, but it was dark…and he was here – and suddenly, she felt safe again.

"Sorry?" Frank kissed the top of her head, stroked her hair carefully, noting the bandage encircling her head. He briefly laid his cheek against her hair. "What do you have to be sorry about?" He loosened his hold slightly, easing her back against the pillows. "Lie back down, honey... Attagirl, take it easy….Shhh, it's okay now, just relax."

Megan clung to him, hating to be released, even though lying down felt better than sitting up. "Being…a bother…to everyone," she said haltingly. "Causing so much…trouble. S-sorry." It sounds like 'thowwy,' she thought, horrified, and felt like hiding beneath the covers in her chagrin.

If Frank noticed the lisp, he didn't mention it. "Nothing to be sorry for," he murmured, and laid his lips gently against her cheek. Encountering the adhesive tape across her nose, he winced involuntarily. "Baby, are you sure you're all right?"

She tried to laugh, but ended up whimpering; it hurt. "So they tell me. But my car's totaled, Frank! Joe called and found out…."

"I'm not worried about the car right now," Frank informed her. "I'm worried about you." With a feather-light touch, he traced over her nose, then the bandage on her forehead; finally he touched her lips. "I'm so sorry, love," he murmured. "But everything will be all right. It'll work out…the car, too."

"Re-remember…when you were in…the plane that Joe landed?" she whispered, making a valiant attempt to find something humorous in the situation. "You had to wear – that foam collar. Because you got whiplash. The doctor said…said that I have whiplash – but he didn't say I had to wear one…I guess I'm better off than you were, huh? And it – it's one of those – those shared experiences that – that couples are supposed to have…." Again, she attempted a weak laugh.

"Matching cases of whiplash is not my idea of togetherness, Megan!" Frank chuckled ruefully. He found one of her hands, and held it tightly, then brought it to his lips. "Darn you, I think you've shortened my life by about a decade today!" he scolded gently. "Don't you know how precious you are to me? And then Joe and Vanessa told me you didn't want me here…."

"I still – don't want – you to see me," the girl admitted slowly. "I look – repulsive." Oh no…'thee me,'… 'repulthive'….

"You'll heal." Frank held her hand against his cheek, turned his head to kiss her palm. "You'll be good as new, and just as beautiful as ever." He sighed. "But I'll respect your wishes for now." Amusement tinged his voice again. "After all, I'm getting to meet you in a dark bedroom because of it…"

She gasped, and then started to laugh, shakily. "You idiot…" Abruptly, the laughter became tears again. "Frank, I was so scared. The crash…I get the shakes, just trying to think about it. And I can't really remember what happened – it all happened so fast! The other car just sort of – came out of nowhere!"

He leaned close, kissing whatever came first, in the darkness. "I know, Baby…I know. Don't think about it. Not now. Later will be soon enough."

Finally, Frank sat back and smoothed the covers over his girlfriend. "You're supposed to be resting. Want me to go, and let you sleep? Or stay?"

She sighed. "I suppose" – 'thuppothse!' Oh, God! – "you'd better go, although it's nice having you around. But I don't think I can sleep, really. I feel too jittery. Whatever that doctor gave me, it isn't working."

"I think if you just close your eyes and relax," Frank cautiously stroked her hair, "you can sleep. And if having me around makes you feel better, I won't leave you. I'll stay."

"No—" The soft voice he loved so dearly was regretful, but firm. "I want you to go home and stop worrying about me. Vanessa's staying." 'Vaneththa's thtaying'…Megan cringed inside as she heard herself.

"I'm not going to stop worrying about you, but if you want me to go, I will - after you're asleep – but remember this, Baby: I love you, and nothing in the whole world is ever going to change that. Now shut your eyes and relax." He stopped smoothing her hair, and began stroking her shoulder and arm instead; long, gentle strokes, as if petting a cat. "Nothing's going to change it," he repeated soothingly, "Not a car accident, not anything. No matter how you think you look, or think I ought to feel. Understand?"

"Yesss…I und'rstan," Megan sighed. "Talk – talk to me…for a little bit. Pleathe?" She caught her breath at the sound of the slurred words, but again, Frank didn't seem to notice.

"Okay. What would you like me to talk about?"

"Tell me – about your flight…with Jack," she whispered. "How – how'd it – go?"

She's trying so hard! Frank thought, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. Trying to act like everything's normal…. He began to speak, consciously keeping his voice soft and striving for a monotone, hoping to lull her into slumber. "Well, it went better than I'd expected. First Jack had me do all the pre-flight checks…just to see what I could actually do with just one hand…."

Despite her real interest in what he was saying, and her prior words to the contrary, as Frank kept talking Megan felt herself slipping into the black void of sleep. She let her eyes slide closed. The last thing she remembered was feeling the warmth of his lips on her cheek.

###

Frank walked out to the kitchen and sank heavily into a chair. Vanessa and Joe, who had been sitting at the table and quietly chatting, eyed him, and then Vanessa refilled Frank's teacup and pushed it towards him.

"Well?" she demanded.

"She's – I suppose she's okay," Frank sighed. "I mean, it was hard to tell without seeing her. She finally relaxed enough to go to sleep. I stayed until I was sure she was." He took a sip of tea, then a deeper swallow. "She just seems so – fragile, somehow!"

"Fragile? Megan?" Joe cracked. "We're talking about Megan, here, remember? Little 'I'm tougher than I look' Megan. The one who helped us break into office buildings, and faced down kidnappers two different times, and helped Vanessa catch a guy trying to drug me, in the hospital, and bosses you, brother dear, around when no one else can."

Frank chuckled unwillingly. "I know, I know. But it doesn't make any difference, Joe. She may be tougher than she looks, but she's also not as tough as she wants people to think – and you know it!"

Joe decided his jokes weren't having the desired effect. "I know," he conceded quietly.

Frank looked inquiringly at Vanessa. "Tell me again, what exactly were her injuries?"

"Broken nose – she said the doctor told her it wasn't displaced at all, just cracked the bone, so it should heal as good as new – that snapped-off front tooth, the cut to her head, neck strain, various bruises over the rest of her body, that will show up later. And her mouth is all cut up, inside and out."

Frank sighed dejectedly. "I know they sound minor, compared to what we ended up with in Nevada," he admitted, "but it's harder seeing her hurt than being hurt myself." Joe, evidently imagining Vanessa in a similar situation, nodded.

Vanessa abruptly changed the topic of conversation. "I don't know about you two, but I'm starving to death," she announced. "I've already checked the fridge; obviously Carolyn and Megan don't believe in leftovers. Either that, or they never eat anything." She smiled. "Shall we order something in? Or are you guys heading home?"

The boys exchanged glances. "Megan told me to go home," Frank admitted.

"I suppose we should," Joe said reluctantly. "It's not like we can do anything to help – or can we?"

"No," Vanessa shook her head. "Now that she's asleep, she'll probably be zonked out the rest of the night. I wish I had my bag here, though; I could use the study time."

"It's at our house," Joe recollected. "I could bring it back over. Say, I just realized; you're stuck here, aren't you? Your jeep's at your house, you came here with me."

"I figured you were leaving the Aztek for me," Vanessa teased him. "You can go back home with Frank."

Joe looked slightly taken aback at this. "How about if I go home and bring your books over. You won't need to go anywhere tonight."

She rolled her eyes, but nodded agreeably. "Whatever, Joe."

The ringing of the telephone interrupted the desultory conversation. When Vanessa answered, it turned out to be Megan's mother, Carolyn. Joe had reached her earlier, and Megan had reassured her mother that really, she was all right, and didn't need immediate parental attention, but Carolyn still sounded concerned. She told them that she had changed her flight reservations from Philadelphia, and would be home early Sunday, rather than late in the afternoon.

The teens assured her that Megan was asleep, and that they would take good care of her, and finally the anxious mother seemed convinced. She added that she had spoken to her insurance agent. "Megan's going to be upset about losing that car," she said regretfully. "But I suppose it was time to replace it anyhow."

"Did you get the name of the creep that hit her?" Frank asked Joe, when the call was completed. "I hope he's got a really good insurance plan!" Frank's dark eyes flashed angrily. "Did the police book him for reckless driving?"

"Whoa, now…it was an accident, Frank, an accident!" Joe held up his hands in a defensive gesture. "No, I didn't get the name. I'm sure Megan's mom will find out, when she talks to the officer who was at the scene, and her insurance agent may have told her already. She just didn't say who it was. Yes, as far as I know, he has good insurance, and yes, he was ticketed, but not arrested! I called Con, and asked him to check into the traffic report on it, for me."

Joe chuckled a little. "It wasn't a terrorist plot, Frank, it was a car accident. These things happen sometimes, remember?" He frowned slightly. "Although Con did mention that the guy said his brakes didn't seem to work right – he had brakes, and he did try to stop, but they were mushy, and didn't respond very well." He shook his head. "Of all times for somebody's brakes to give out, huh?"

Frank growled something rude under his breath that Joe chose not to hear, then abruptly stood up. "Come on, we might as well go home!" he snapped grumpily. "Van, I'll call over here first thing in the morning, to find out how Megan's doing. Joe, if you're leaving the Aztek and coming with me, I'm leaving now. Otherwise, you're driving yourself home." He stamped into the front hall, and went out the front door.

Joe stared after his older brother, wide-eyed. Finally, he shook his head and muttered "PMS," then kissed a giggling Vanessa quickly. "Want me to leave the car?"

"No, go ahead and take it. But if you would…" Vanessa smiled at him. "I really would appreciate having my book bag."

"You'll have it in half an hour," Joe promised, and departed.

###

Joe was nearly as good as his word, and returned 35 minutes later, bearing not only Vanessa's books, but a glass container of macaroni and cheese, and a plastic bowl of fruit salad. "Mom sent you some dinner," he offered smilingly. "But she says to tell you that she's sorry there aren't any grapes in the salad…apparently someone ate them all—"

Both of them broke into decidedly guilty laughter, then Vanessa eagerly took the food from Joe.

"I love your mother," she murmured, and immediately began searching for silverware, without even bothering to reheat the casserole. "Don't mind me, Joe – you don't need to stick around – go home and eat," she mumbled, through a mouthful of macaroni. Joe, laughing helplessly, pecked her on the cheek and obeyed.