I own nothing

I remember screaming. And I remember pain. Yelling, anger, cold. Then nothing. The last thing I remember is hoping that Frank would be okay. And that he wouldn't worry to much, because not thinking was...nice. And way easier.

But it couldn't last forever. I woke up to a blinding headache, and I screamed again. The only pain now was the one in my head, because my head knew that my arm was broken, but my arm didn't.

Kind of weird, don't you think?

But it was true. My arm was numb, and I couldn't move it more then a centimeter without doubling over from pain, but it didn't hurt. Which seriously scared me more then any amount of pain would have.

I felt a hand on my shoulder and I immediately cringed away from it. "Hey, hey," I was insanely relived to hear Frank's voice. "Let me look at that arm."

I managed to hold still as he prodded my arm. I looked away as he did it, because I didn't want to see what it looked like. When he reached a certain spot, I let out a scream. Frank's hand clamped itself over my mouth. "Shhh..." he whispered, looking anxious.

I pulled away from him, and I could feel tears in my eyes. I brushed them away impatiently with my good hand, trying to keep the pain at bay. I managed to ask Frank, "Where are they?"

He shrugged. "Not in this room and that's all that matters. Geeze, Joe, how is it that you always get hurt?" I knew that he was trying to tease, but the worried look in his eyes made the joke fall short of perfect.

I tried to joke back. "It's cause I'm prettier then you." He punched me on the arm, luckily, the one that wasn't broken. I glared at him, though I could still feel the tears in my eyes, and I blinked quickly to get them to disappear.

Frank looked at me for a second, then moved forward. I could see bruises layering his arms and wanted to groan, but I couldn't seem to muster up the energy. Frank hugged me, and it was only then that I realized that I was shivering.

Frank seemed to realize it too, because he mumbled, "What are we going to do with you, Old Buddy?"

I just shrugged, and buried my self deeper in his shirt, letting the pain take me away once again.

Fenton Hardy roared with anger after he hung up the phone. After coming home and realizing that both his sons were missing, he had assumed that they had gone out. That phone call had changed everything.

He went into the living room to find his wife, who was just hanging up her coat. "Have you heard from the boys, Fenton?" she asked without turning around.

Fenton thought that she should know, and now. "Sweetheart, the boys, they've been kidnapped. The kidnapped just said that he was getting 'his revenge.'" The worst part was Fenton had to see his wife drop down in a faint.

The other worst part was that he knew exactly who had his sons. It was someone he'd hoped never to be dealing with again.

You like?