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).

Note: This story was written in 2003, so technology was not as advanced as it is today. People still used landlines, and texting, Facebook, Twitter, Instagram and Snapchat were still in the future or in their infancy. Co-written with RokiaHDA, who wrote back then under the name of Aspen.

Thank you for the comments/feedback, Cherylann, Max2013, and BMSH.

Ghost of November Past

By EvergreenDreamweaver and RokiaHDA

Chapter 11

"No! No! DON'T!"

The cry ripped through the silent darkness of the Hardy house, causing Joe to sit straight up in bed, blonde curls askew on his head as he clutched his blanket and blinked, trying to figure out if he'd actually heard the cry, or dreamed it! Instinctively, he glanced at the bedside clock. Three-forty-eight.

Another cry, weaker this time, reached his ears. Joe threw back his covers and flew out of bed, flinging open the door to the bathroom which connected his room and Frank's. He darted across the room, flipping on the bathroom light, and opened Frank's door. He could see his brother lying on his bed, struggling with…what? With something invisible to Joe. Nightmare, Joe surmised. Even with the thought, he heard Frank cry out again, and he sped to the bedside, gripping his shoulder gently.

"Easy, Frank – easy. It's just a dream. Wake up…!" Joe shook him a little, then more insistently. "Come on now, wake up."

"NO!" Frank screamed again, and his hands clutched at his throat as if he couldn't breathe. In the dim light from the bathroom, Joe could see his face was turning a dark shade of red. Alarmed, he reached to switch on the bedside lamp.

Joe's eyes widened. From what he could see, it looked like Frank actually WAS having trouble breathing! He shook Frank's shoulder again, harder. "Frank! Wake up now! It's just a bad dream, that's all – come on, Frank!"

Frank's eyes snapped open, and he stared up into Joe's face, but Joe could see he wasn't really looking at him, at least not at first. Frank's eyes were wide and glassy with shock and fear, and he continued to struggle with his invisible foes, and to fight for breath. Joe, growing more alarmed by the second, tugged Frank's hands away from his throat and held them down, then slapped him – lightly – across the cheek, to try and get him to respond. "FRANK!"

Frank exhaled sharply and went limp, his eyes finally focusing on Joe. Joe stared down at him. He heard the door to the hallway open, but ignored it, concentrating on his brother; a few seconds later, Laura was there beside him, with Matt close behind.

"What's wrong?" Laura demanded. "Joe? What's wrong with Frank?"

Joe glanced at his mother, stared a moment, then shook his head uncertainly. "Nightmare, I think. A bad one."

Frank was gasping still; drawing in heavy breaths, then exhaling sharply. His face slowly began to regain its normal color, as he got more air into his lungs, and Joe relaxed…infinitesimally. Frank stared up at Joe, at his mother, at Matt, his eyes shifting nervously from one to the other.

Gently, Joe gripped his arm. "Hey there…you listening to me, bro? You awake now? You with us?"

Frank nodded slightly. He was obviously badly shaken. "Yeah. Think so. S-sorry…really sorry," he muttered weakly. "It was…so real!"

"What were you dreaming about?" Joe asked quietly. "Was it the – the ghost?"

Frank nodded and shivered. "Yeah." He sat up, and glanced uncertainly at Matt and Laura. "Sorry I woke you."

"Talk about it?" Joe requested.

Frank squeezed his eyes shut momentarily, then opened them. "I…okay," he said, a little reluctantly. "I dreamed I went back to the lighthouse. And she – she was – that strange girl, she appeared again. It was a lot like today. She insisted that I was a killer – that I'd murdered somebody, and that I was going to pay. She kept pointing at me, and coming towards me….And then, she was right there – I felt her hands go around my throat. They tightened…and tightened…and I couldn't breathe! I fought her off – I can kind of remember crying out, yelling at her to stop, that it wasn't me – but she didn't stop, and she kept coming back! It was – it was so real!" he gasped, and shook his head, drawing his knees up and wrapping his arms tightly about them.

"Easy," Joe murmured, rubbing his back gently. He felt awkward; he wasn't sure what to say. "It was just a dream, Frank, just a dream. Whatever you're coming down with must be playing games with your head…but you're all right."

Frank nodded doubtfully. "Guess so…."

Joe knew Frank wanted very badly to believe him – wanted to believe he was coming down with some sort of bug that was giving him delusions or hallucinations – the trouble was, Joe wasn't altogether sure that he himself was convinced!

Laura seated herself on the edge of the bed and put her arms about her older son. "Honey, it was only a dream. I know it seemed horribly real, but it's all right – you're all right." Gently, she smoothed his dark hair and rocked him slowly, as if Frank was little again. "It's all over now."

"Mom…he really was having trouble breathing," Joe hated to mention it, but felt compelled. "It was pretty intense, for a dream."

Laura looked alarmed. "Trouble breathing? Maybe we ought to have you checked over at the hospital, Frank…."

"NO!" Frank scrambled back away from his mother, pushing against the headboard of his bed, staring at her in horror. "I don't need to go to the hospital, Mom! No – I can't…."

"Sweetie, breathing is fairly essential," his mother reminded him. "You were knocked unconscious this evening, remember? Head injury? And we're supposed to be watching out for problems…."

"You know, dizziness, disorientation, severe headache," Joe interposed. "Not breathing counts as a problem." He grinned cheerfully as Frank glared at him.

"I'm fine," Frank grumped. He looked up at Matt, who had been silent all this time, watching him with considerable concern. "You've all been taking turns pestering me all night, waking me up every two hours…you're not going to drag me off to the hospital just because I stressed out over a nightmare!"

At this sign of returning normalcy – if a slightly cranky normalcy – Matt grinned and winked at Joe. "Dude, we're not going to drag you anywhere," he chuckled softly.

"You'd better not try," Frank warned darkly, but relaxed.

"Maybe we could just wait until morning," Joe suggested. "See if anything else happens?" He was well aware that Frank had absolutely no desire to go to the hospital…he hadn't wanted to go when he'd hurt his head. "But with the knock on the head you took…you sure you don't want to get it checked out, just to make sure?" he asked once more.

Frank shook his head, gingerly checking his bandage. "Not a chance. I just want to go back to sleep and forget that dream ever happened!" He slid down beneath the blankets, then paused, looking from Joe to his mother, and then to Matt.

"You want some company the rest of the night?" Joe asked carefully. He wasn't sure he was comfortable with leaving Frank by himself quite yet.

Frank blushed. "No, I'm fine," he mumbled. "I'll be just fine. Go back to bed, everybody, and get some sleep!"

"You're due to be waked up in two hours anyway, dude," Matt reminded him, with a yawn followed by a wry grin. "It's my turn."

"Oh, joy." Frank extended his check for Laura's kiss. "Night, Mom. Night, Matt."

"Sleep well, honey," Laura hugged him hard, and kissed him one more time.

"Hope you're okay, dude," Matt murmured, and wandered out the door.

"I'll leave the doors open." Joe turned off the lamp and headed for his own room. And I'll keep an ear out the rest of the night! he vowed, as he climbed into bed. Just in case that homicidal ghost decides to take another crack at him! Joe sighed. He didn't want to believe in something as cockamamie as ghosts…but he also didn't want to believe his older brother was cracking up. No…Frank is just as sane as I am. Saner, maybe!

Don't worry, big brother, he thought, settling back into bed and staring up at the ceiling. I've got your back.

#####

Stretching up so that his hands hit the headboard; stretching down so that his feet dangled off the end of his bed, Joe yawned and blinked several times, staring up at the ceiling above him, before he finally forced himself to a sitting position. For a moment, he couldn't recall why he was awake so early on a Sunday morning – the one morning he was usually able to sleep in – but then he remembered the night before.

Frank, crying out in the middle of the night…struggling in the grip of a hellacious nightmare, fighting to breathe…and he, Joe, hearing the terror in Frank's voice; hearing the unspoken fear that Frank was losing touch with reality….

Joe sighed as he got out of bed, and stretched again, working out the kinks which had formed overnight. He went into the bathroom to take care of some early morning business, carefully shutting the door to Frank's room. While brushing his teeth, he heard movement in his brother's room – the bed creaking, then soft, sleepy mumbles, and shuffling footsteps across the carpeting.

"You going to be out of there anytime soon?" Frank sounded entirely normal, if drowsy.

"Jus' a minute," Joe replied around a mouthful of toothbrush. He finished brushing his teeth, then opened Frank's door. "It's all yours." He departed for his own room, considering his upcoming day.

Vanessa and I are going to get together around noon, to go back to the lighthouse, Joe recalled. Hopefully we can get some more research done! Wonder if the sheriff, or the Bayport PD, knows anything more about those bones Frank and Megan found? Nah….Probably too early to get any information from them….

Wonder if we could see if Cherise knows anything about missing people from the lighthouse? If she does, maybe we could figure out who the skeleton is! That is, if it's a person who lived there, and not just a victim of someone who thought a lighthouse cottage would be a nice out-of-the-way place to hide a body!

It's Sunday…she wouldn't be at work. Do I have her home phone number? He couldn't remember. He stretched once more, and squished his toes into the thick carpeting of his bedroom floor, relishing the feel of the soft pile. He switched on the radio, seeking a weather report, and padded over to his dresser, digging in for clothing for the day.

"…high of 45, low of 30 – we may be seeing snow before the night is out, folks, so bundle up and stay safe. Now back to more music from WBPT, the voice of Bayport…"

"Oh, swell," Joe muttered to himself, and pulled out jeans, a long-sleeved t-shirt, a long-sleeved flannel shirt, and underwear. He dressed slowly, listening to the song being played on the radio: TNT, by AC-DC. More bad weather…possibly snow. He hoped that part of the forecast was wrong, otherwise it was really going to muck up their trip to the lighthouse, although both his car and Vanessa's jeep were able to navigate snow with no problem. Hopefully the moisture would let up by noon, or it would at least stay warm enough to just rain – although he knew it was perfectly capable of snowing a blizzard's worth in November.

He remembered lots of snowy birthdays for Frank!

Speaking of Frank, wasn't he taking an awfully long time in the bathroom? Joe didn't hear the shower running…he could hear him fumbling around in the medicine cabinet. "You okay in there, Frank? Did you come down with that virus after all?" He popped his head into the bathroom, raising an inquisitive eyebrow in Frank's direction.

"I just have a headache," Frank replied. "Probably from last night. Probably from people waking me up every two hours," he continued, with a reproachful stare at Joe. "And no, it's not bad enough to have it checked. It's just residual. I'm fine."

Right…you're fine. Sure you are!

"I'm going back out to Stone Point at noon today with Vanessa," Joe said aloud. "I assume you're staying home today?"

There wasn't an immediate answer, and Joe began to wonder if Frank was insane enough to return to the lighthouse again. No way, he thought. Frank doesn't have ANY reason to hang out in a cold, murky lighthouse today. Megan said she was spending the day with her mom – shopping and stuff. Girls' day out, and all that. Frank should stay home and take care of himself….

"Well, I thought I might go out and see if I could find out anything about the investigation into the skeleton," Frank admitted, to Joe's complete amazement.

Are you NUTS? For a moment, Joe was afraid he'd blurted the words out loud. And then he realized what Frank was doing. He didn't want to admit he was scared enough to stay home…so he was going to go out and face the source of his fears. Great. Just great. Joe couldn't believe his logical older brother was even consideringthe idea that the ghost might be…real. Nah! That's probably why he's going out! To prove that it isn't real!

"Well, bring Matt along; he'll be good company for you while Vanessa and I take notes," Joe advised, and returned to his room to find his shoes. And maybe some protection….

All right, Ghost! We're coming out there but if you lay one hand on my brother, there's going to be hell to pay!