"You okay?" asked Frank, entering the bathroom from his bedroom as Joe opened the medicine cabinet.
"I think I'm catching a cold," Joe admitted, spying the cough syrup as another cough erupted from his throat.
Frank put the back of his hand against Joe's forehead. "You don't feel hot," he said, frowning. "But that's a nasty cough."
"This will take care of it," Joe said with conviction, holding up the bottle of syrup that he had bought only three days ago to replace the one he had polished off.
"Think you can sleep?" Frank asked, still looking worried. He remembered a night last summer after they had returned home from working on a mystery in Brazil when Joe had woken up sick in the middle of the night. He had been running a fever then that had kept getting worse. By the time he was admitted to the emergency room it had reached a hundred and five degrees. It had taken Joe three weeks to recover from what Dr. Bates, their family doctor, had deemed 'a very bad case of rheumatic fever'. Frank's frown deepened as he heard Dr. Bates words reverberate through his mind.
"Relax," Joe told him, grinning. "I'm okay."
"If you need anything?" offered Frank, lifting a brow.
"You'll hear me," promised Joe. "Go back to bed."
"After you," Frank replied.
Sighing, Joe returned to bed and pulled the quilt up to his chest. "Night, bro," he said, smiling. He didn't ever want Frank to know, but he thought Frank's over-protectiveness was cool. It was nice to be cared about so much.
"Night, Joe," Frank said, smiling at him before returning to his own room. He climbed back in bed wishing for the umpteenth time that they still shared a room.
"Wake up, Baby Brother," Frank said, entering Joe's room the next morning. Joe opened his eyes and stretched lazily while Frank looked on. "How are you feeling this morning?" Frank asked as Joe slowly got out of bed.
"Tired," confessed Joe. "But otherwise, I feel fine."
Frank checked Joe for a fever before commenting. "Okay, then," he said, smiling in relief. "Get a move on," he ordered, leaving Joe alone and heading downstairs.
The boys split up once they got to school and it wasn't until lunch that Frank got to see Joe again. He picked up his tray and headed to the table populated by Joe and their friends. He started frowning when Joe began coughing again.
"You should have that checked out," Frank said, taking his seat between Joe and his blond headed girlfriend, Callie Shaw.
"It's no big deal," Joe denied once his cough had subsided. "Just a nuisance."
"Either tell mom when you get home or I will," threatened Frank, sure their mother would take Joe to the doctor.
"All right, already," Joe gave in with a scowl. "As soon as practice is over I'll go straight home and tell her."
"Since Joe has practice, why don't I take you home this afternoon?" Callie suggested, looking into Frank's beautiful brown eyes. "We can hang out at the park for a little while."
"Why don't we watch the guys practice?" Frank countered her offer. "We could..."
"Boring!" chirped Joe, knowing Frank was only making the suggestion because he was worried. "Go with Callie. I'm all right."
"Move it, Hardy!" snapped Coach Olsen as Joe began lagging behind his teammates during their pre-practice workout.
Joe tried to run faster but gave up as a pain streaked through his chest. He came to a standstill and dropped his hands onto his knees as he gasped for breath.
Chet and Biff, both members of Bayport High's football team, looked back. Seeing Joe, they did an about face and ran to his side. Suspecting something was wrong, the other teammates came to a halt and turned to watch as Coach Olsen ran up to Joe, Biff and Chet.
"What's wrong?" Olsen demanded, his green eyes reflecting concern. Joe was without a doubt one of the team's best players and he needed Joe in top form for the forthcoming game.
Joe shook his head. He still wasn't able to speak. "He's sick," Chet said. "He's been coughing all day."
"Go home," Olsen ordered Joe. "Get some rest. If you're still sick in the morning then make sure and see a doctor or don't come to practice."
Joe nodded as the coach walked away. "Need any help getting home?" asked Biff.
"N...no," Joe gasped, still panting a bit. "But...but I think I will get mom to take me to see Dr. Bates," he added, finally standing up straight. "This is ridiculous."
Joe slowly made his way back to the locker room. After a quick shower he headed out to the van, knowing without looking that his ankle had swollen up again because it was starting to hurt.
"Aren't you home early?" asked Fenton Hardy as Joe entered the house a little later.
"Yeah, but so are you," retorted Joe with a grin.
"I lost Loewan's trail," confessed Fenton. "I had to come home to go over my file again. What about you? Why aren't you at football practice?" he asked, his forehead creasing in concern as Joe limped into the living room.
"Coach sent me home," Joe informed his father as he sank onto the sofa wearily. "I couldn't catch my breath during practice."
Fenton touched Joe's forehead. "You don't have a fever," he said, his brown eyes narrowed in concern.
"No, but I have been coughing a lot lately," confessed Joe. "I even woke Frank up last night because of it. He made me promise to tell mom when I got home."
"Laura's out shopping," Fenton said. "So why don't we leave her and your brother a note and I'll take you to see Dr. Bates?"
"Okay," agreed Joe. He stayed put while his father wrote the note and went to hang it up on the bulletin board in the kitchen. When his dad returned he got off the couch and gingerly put his foot down on the floor.
"How did you hurt your ankle?" Fenton asked, helping Joe out to the car.
"I didn't," Joe replied. "It was swollen last night but this morning the swelling was gone."
"Looks like it's back," Fenton stated with a frown. "We'll have the doctor check that out too."
"Who is this guy you're after?" Joe asked once they were underway.
"Yamine Loewan," Fenton answered. "He's been smuggling contraband into the country."
"Not your usual kind of case," observed Joe.
"No," admitted Fenton. "But Aaron Darylmple asked me to look into the matter. He's a friend of mine from high school."
"Anything Frank and I can do to help?" Joe asked hopefully.
Fenton smiled. Even though Joe wasn't feeling well he still couldn't resist a mystery. "Not this time," he answered, with a shake of his head. "I've got all the evidence I need against him. It's just that Loewan has been too elusive to capture."