Disclaimer: I do not own the Hardy Boys or any of the book characters. There are OCs that are mine, but that's all.

Rating/Setting: Rating is T. Setting is pre-blue spine and AU. This story is a sequel to "Taken" which should be read before reading this story. Boys are about 16/17.

Author's Notes: Ah, so many of you want to hit or slap Camille. Perhaps you'll be pleased to know that she isn't in this chapter at all. ;-) And since the last chapter was on the shorter side... I decided I'd post today instead of tomorrow. On a side note, I'm on chapter 5 of the next installment!

Chapter Twenty-Six

At 7:00 a.m., Joe felt a hand on his chest. Opening his right eye, he blinked several times as his vision was blurry. "Mom?" he asked.

"I'm right here, Joe."

The voice came from his right side. He could feel fingers slide into his hand and he gently squeezed them. "I can't see you too well."

"It's okay, Joe." Nurse Melinda Chambers was still on-duty.

Joe tried to turn his head in her direction but it was too painful. "Who're you?"

"My name is Melinda and I'm your nurse." She paused and changed her hand placement and asked Joe several questions about his pain levels and where he hurt. All of which he answered with his eyes closed.

The blurry vision and pain were making him nauseated.

Melinda made a couple of notes on the chart and said, "I'll get Dr. Patel. Once the doctor sees you, we can get you some more pain medication."

"Thank you, nurse," Laura said as she stood at the bedside. Even though Joe couldn't see clearly, she was grateful that he was awake.

"So, what happened to me? Feel awful. Was it a car accident?"

"What do you remember happening?" Laura asked carefully. She hadn't been married to a detective for twenty years without knowing a few things.

Joe's forehead wrinkled with his concentration. "Camille picked me up to go to the party. We were going for a drive. I must have dozed off. I don't remember what happened."

Laura closed her eyes. She had wanted Joe to remember what happened. Gently she squeezed his fingers as she opened her eyes to look at him. "That's okay, Joe. You just need to rest. I'm sure it will come back to you."

Before he could ask anything else, Dr. Patel came in. The man was Laura's height with cocoa colored skin and a pleasant accent to his voice. "How are you feeling this morning, young man?" Dr. Patel went to the computer and pulled up Joe's chart.

"Feel like I've been hit in the head and the stomach with a baseball bat." Joe gave a short laugh and moaned as he reached for his ribs with his broken arm. "And add ribs and arm to that list."

"Well, you've detailed the areas pretty well. You've had a concussion which is why you have blurry vision right now. There is minor swelling so you won't be able to open you left eye completely and your vision should improve over the course of the day."

"What's the other good news?" Joe asked carefully.

"You have three bruised ribs and both your spleen and your liver are bruised and you broke your left arm." Dr. Patel watched to see what Joe's reaction was.

"I guess I'm lucky that more things weren't broken."

"That you are."

"I guess this means I won't be playing basketball this year." It was obvious from his tone that Joe was going to miss the sport.

"You will miss it, I'm afraid. But everything should be healed up in time for spring sports."

Joe's good eye popped open and he trained it in the direction of the doctor's voice. "I'll be able to play baseball?"

Dr. Patel actually smiled. "Yes."

A small smile formed on Joe's face. "That's good. I wouldn't want to miss playing Frank's last year."

Dr. Patel looked from Joe to Laura and back to Joe. "I have a few more questions to ask you, Joe."

"Okay."

"What's the last thing you remember?" Dr. Patel looked to the door as Con Riley stepped into the room.

"Riding in Camille's car on the way to the party, only we were going to drive for a bit and talk. I must have dozed off. The last thing I remember is seeing the Cantanado's huge Grinch in the front yard." Joe smiled. He liked that Grinch. Suddenly, his smile disappeared as he asked, "How's Camille? Is she okay?"

Laura patted his hand. "She's fine. Just a few bumps and bruises but she was released last night."

Joe visibly relaxed so the doctor continued. "And how were you feeling when you were riding with Camille?"

"Really down."

"What about?" the doctor asked.

Joe turned his head in his mother's direction. "I didn't tell you mom."

"Tell me what?" Laura asked as she looked into Joe's unfocused eye.

"I got a card from someone in Morgan's family. Today is Sunday?"

"Yes," Laura responded.

"His birthday was yesterday. They wanted me to know that he wouldn't get to turn eighteen." Joe closed his eyes and worked to keep his breathing slow. When it had started becoming rapid he could feel the pain in his side more acutely.

"Oh, Joe. I'm so sorry, baby." Laura looked at Joe. The smiling teen of a few moments ago was replaced by this melancholy version of her vibrant son.

"It was just hard with the decorating and everything. I thought keeping busy would help but the decorating just made me feel down. Dr. Childers said that keeping busy would be good."

This time, Laura looked at the doctor. "Dr. Childers is Joe's therapist." She looked back to Joe. "You told Dr. Childers about the card?"

"Yes. He told me I should tell you, but I told him I didn't want you all to think I was depressed about it." Joe was holding the entire conversation with his eyes closed. He didn't even realize that Con Riley had come into the room.

"Were you depressed, Joe?" Laura asked gently.

"Kinda. I know the holidays are going to be hard. But I've got you all to help me through."

She couldn't help it. Laura broke into sobs.

Joe opened his eyes and tried to focus on his mother. She was an indistinct figure at the moment. All shades of red and tan. "What's wrong mom?"

"Nothing," she got out. "Nothing's wrong, Joe. I'm just glad to know that you understand that we're here for you." Moving to the head of the bed, she leaned over and kissed his forehead. She turned when Con cleared his throat.

"Morning, Joe."

Joe's focus turned to the tall tan and navy blur that had to be Con Riley. "Morning, Con."

"That will be all for me," Dr. Patel said. "I'll send Nurse Chambers back in with some pain medication and to take some blood work. We have to make sure that Joe's liver is working properly."

"Thank you, doctor," Joe and Laura said as he exited the room.

"Glad to hear you're doing all right," Con said as he looked Joe over. The kid was in rough shape. He had heard enough to know that Joe wouldn't be able to contradict anything that Camille said right now. He knew that brain injuries were each unique. Who knew if or when Joe would remember.

"Con, if you're going to be here, then I'm going to step outside and call Fenton."

"Go right ahead, Laura. I'll wait to talk to Joe when everyone is here."

As Laura stepped into the hallway, Joe asked, "Talk to me about what?"

"What you remember."

"I already told the doctor. I must have fallen asleep. I don't remember the car crash." Joe was confused.

"Just hold on, Joe. We'll talk about it when your dad and brother are here too. You know them. You'd just have to repeat it all again."

Joe laughed, but he was still trying to figure out what was going on.

.**********.

Laura closed the door behind her and dialed the house number.

"Mom?" Frank asked.

Unable to stop herself again, Laura sobbed for a moment and collected herself.

"Mom! Is Joe all right?" Frank's voice was frantic.

"Yes. He's fine." She could visualize her son's relief. "But he doesn't remember anything after they drove past the Cantanado's."

"Nothing?" Frank asked again hoping for a different answer.

"Nothing. But he did tell me about the card. Con came in while the doctor was talking to him. It's obvious that when Joe was in the car suicide was not on his mind." Laura glanced in the observation window. "Joe's vision is blurry but the doctor expects it to go away over the course of the day as the swelling from his concussion continues to go down."

"We should be there in about fifteen minutes," Frank said as he waved at his dad.

Laura frowned. "Frank, it should take you at least twenty to get here."

Frank laughed. "Don't worry mom. Dad will be driving."

"Okay," Laura said uncertainly as Frank hung up. Looking at her phone she realized that it probably would have been safer to have Frank drive.

Fifteen minutes later…

"Don't frown like that honey, you'll get wrinkles," Fenton said as he entered the room and looked at his lovely wife.

Laura was indeed frowning. She looked at her watch. "That was fifteen minutes to get here, park and find the room." She looked at Frank. "Next time you drive."

The sound of soft laughter came from the bed and all eyes turned to Joe.

"You doing okay, little brother?" Frank asked as he looked Joe over. He didn't look any worse than he had the night before. That had to be good.

"Yeah. But Con and Mom won't tell me anything about the accident. They said we needed to wait for you two," Joe said as his found the blur of colors that was Frank. His vision seemed to be improving because he could now tell that people had hair.

"Accident?" Frank asked innocently.

"Yeah. The car accident that put me in here." Joe turned to the mass that was Con Riley and asked. "What happened? How did Camille only have minor injuries while I seem to have been hit by a freight train? Did my airbag not work? I remember putting on my seatbelt…" Joe's voice trailed off as he waited for answers.

Con looked to Fenton who stepped closer to the bed. "Son. Camille was in a car accident. Her seatbelt and airbag worked fine. You weren't in the car."

Puzzlement was clear on Joe's face. "I wasn't in the car? Where was I?"

Fenton looked to Con for support. Con nodded to Fenton and then said, "You don't remember going to the turn-out on Shore Drive?"

"No. Is that where we went?"

"Yes. Camille said you were distraught and upset about Morgan's birthday." Con watched as Joe closed his eyes and started to pick at the sheet covering him. "She said that you got out of the car and wouldn't get back in."

Joe's eyes opened. "I don't remember any of that. Yes. I was upset. I have been for the last couple of days…"

"Joe." Con waited for Joe to focus on him. "Camille says that you claimed the only way to make up for Morgan's death was to die yourself."

"What are you saying?" Joe asked in a quiet voice. "What did I do?"

Frank reached out to take Joe's hand that was picking at the sheet. "She says you jumped off the cliff at the turn-out little brother."

"I… I… I don't remember that." Joe's voice was anguished as he tried to fit the pieces together. "I could never do that to all of you… I might be depressed but I'm not suicidal." Joe gripped Frank's hand. "You've got to believe me, Frank."

It was like all the Hardys let out a collective sigh. They hadn't believed that Joe would take his own life. They didn't want to believe that they could miss the signs. But they had all needed to hear it from him. Even if he didn't remember right to the moment, they believed him. "I believe you, Joe. We all do."

Joe's uncertain and blurry gaze traveled around the room. "But why would she say that I did that?"

"That's what we're going to find out," Fenton said.

"It looks like there's nothing new for me right now. Let me know if he remembers anything." Con nodded to them all and then motioned for Fenton to follow him into the hall. Glancing into the room, he said, "The girl's been on social media. I can't put an officer here, but it would be a good thing to call some of Frank's friends and see if they will run interfere in the hall and keep some of the circus from getting into the room."

Fenton nodded. Joe was big news in Bayport after the kidnapping. This would only elevate the appeal of learning more. He closed his eyes. Marilyn Laird. Just more information to keep her going. Maybe she was tired of his son and had moved on. His eyes popped open as he brought the card out of his coat pocket. "Here's the card. When you check it, can you check it against Marilyn Laird's writing?"

Con's eyes traveled quickly from the card to Fenton's face. "You think she might have sent it?"

"I don't know. But she does like to push his buttons. It would be a way of getting to him." Fenton glanced back in the room. "Let me know what you find out." As Con walked away, Fenton looked at his family in the hospital room. He said a silent prayer asking that Marilyn Laird had nothing to do with the card. With the prayer said, he entered the room once again.