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 originally co-written with another person, who is not currently available to ask for permission to post it. Therefore it is being posted under one author name. Also, it was written in the late 1990s, so technology is not at a 2017 level. Please pardon that fact.

September Song

By EvergreenDreamweaver

Chapter 16

Frank re-entered the conscious world very slowly. At first he was dimly aware of sensations: the feel of cloth against his skin; the fact that his throat hurt and his chest ached each time he took a breath; the desire to cough without the strength to do it. Then, there was sound: distant telephones ringing; footsteps approaching and receding without ever coming close; muted voices. Somewhere in his subconscious he realized he was in a hospital.

Recollections went through his mind: a fire…bullets whining past his head…running frantically through hallways, dragging someone by the hand…a sudden rush of fresh air. An explosion…the sensation of flight followed by impact of landing…MEGAN!

It seemed to the half-conscious boy that he screamed the name; in reality, all that came out was a barely-audible whisper.

"Time was, he'd have been asking for me!" a familiar voice tinged with amusement remarked.

Frank turned his head slightly, toward that voice. "Joe?" he rasped, and struggled to open his eyes.

"I'm right here, Frank. Just take it easy."

Frank felt a hand grasp his. He blinked and his blurred gaze found a focal point: a pair of blue eyes, a shock of blonde hair; an encouraging grin.

"How you doin'?" Joe inquired.

"I ache all over…" Frank admitted, his voice hoarse. Worry surged through him again. "Joe – where's Megan?"

Joe's grin widened. "Turn your head," he suggested, indicating the direction.

Gingerly, Frank swiveled his head on the pillow – and beheld a vision.

Megan was sitting beside his bed. She was dressed in a white robe, and her face was very pale; so pale each of the tiny freckles scattered across her nose showed up like new copper pennies. Her right cheek was swollen, her chin was scraped, and it appeared that a black eye was imminent. But she was smiling; her elusive dimple was in evidence, and the uninjured eye shone like a star. To Frank's eyes, she resembled a battered and somewhat war-torn angel.

"Welcome back," she murmured, and took his other hand.

Relief flooded him like a warm wave. "I was afraid you were hurt…" he rasped, then coughed, wincing at the pain it caused him.

"Here." Joe had released his hand, and was holding a glass with a straw out to him. "Drink some of this; maybe it will help." Frank took the glass in a shaky grip as Joe touched a button on the hospital bed to raise him to a more upright position. He sipped carefully, finding the water a blessed relief to his sore throat, then handed the glass back to Joe.

"I'm fine," Megan said, and Frank noticed that her voice had the same rasping quality that his did. Smoke – that's from the smoke… "Thanks to you, I'm fine."

Memory was returning now. "Ted Crowley…?" Frank glanced from Megan to Joe. Joe shook his head and looked down; Megan sighed and squeezed Frank's fingers.

"They found his body—" she said, very quietly. "He didn't make it out of the building."

Sorrow at anyone's death, even the evil Crowley, mixed with relief and a bitter sense of vindication in Frank's mind. He exhaled slowly, a long, tired sigh. "Dr. Waring?"

"The police caught up with him at his home. Can you believe it?" Joe chuckled. "The postal service came through for us, whether we wanted them to or not – Con got that tape this afternoon! Waring's in custody and singing like a canary," he continued. "He's confessed to four murders of terminal patients at the hospital. But he says he didn't have anything to do with Megan's dad's death – insists it was Crowley who did the actual deed. Apparently, they caught him at the house – after he'd hidden the tape. Poured whiskey down his throat and then simply put his car in gear and aimed it off the edge of the road. Waring was there – and along with all the other indictments, he'll get nailed as an accessory for it – but swears he wasn't responsible for that one, at least. Ah, well, he'll be in prison for the rest of his life."

"I didn't want this," Megan murmured. "I wanted Ted Crowley punished, but I didn't want him dead." Frank tightened his fingers around hers. Then he glanced at his brother inquiringly.

"Why am I here, anyway?" He moved his legs experimentally, glanced down at his arms. No IV tubes. No casts or bandages. Some bruises and scrapes, but nothing major.

"Well, you've been unconscious for a couple of hours, and your lungs were pretty full of smoke," Joe told him. "They had you on oxygen for a while. The doctor said once you woke up and your lungs were clear, he'd release you. But you're going to have to take it easy for a few days."

"Taking it easy sounds like a pretty good idea," Frank admitted. He coughed again, and this time it was Megan who handed him the glass of water. "Is Mom here?"

Joe grinned. "Of course. And – surprise! – Dad too. He got home about an hour ago, and came right to the hospital when he got Mom's message."

"Tony…?"

"In the waiting room, with everyone else. Vanessa and her mom are here too, and Megan's mom."

"She brought me this robe," Megan held up her sleeve. "She said I looked dorky in a hospital robe. And my clothes reeked of smoke."

Dorky? No way! You wouldn't look dorky in a gunny sack…. "But you're sure you're okay? If you were admitted to the hospital—"

"It's all right," she assured him. "They just checked me over; said I should rest for a while. But I can leave whenever I want to." She smiled. "I had that gag over my face, remember? It kept out some of the smoke; I didn't inhale nearly as much as you did."

Frank smiled tiredly. "Everything's back to normal, then. Crooks caught, case solved. Right beats might—" He broke off, coughing again.

"See what happens when you smart off?" Joe reproved. He reached for the controls of the bed. "Maybe you should lie down again for a while."

"No don't, it's easier to breathe this way." Frank stopped him with an upraised hand. "I'm okay. Just tired."

"I'm going to go tell Mom and Dad that you're awake," Joe said. He glanced at Megan over Frank's head and winked, then headed for the door.

As the door swung shut behind Joe, Megan stood up and moved nearer. "I was never so happy about anything in my whole life as when I saw you come into that room!" she said softly, and smoothed his dark hair back from his forehead.

Frank returned her smile. "I was pretty happy when I found you there myself. More than happy. Ecstatic…overjoyed…jubilant…totally relieved…."

Her usually bubbling laughter sounded a bit like she was growling, due to the smoke, but there was no mistaking the twinkle in her eye. "You've been learning a lot of pretty words somewhere."

"Not just pretty words," he assured her. "I knew you meant a lot to me – and when I thought I'd lost you, I realized just how much. It felt like a piece of my heart was ripped away. You're – you're more than special to me, Megan…much, much more."

Frank reached to cup her uninjured cheek with his hand, then drew her close. A little smile played around her mouth, and she mimicked the gesture, putting her own hand gently against his cheek.

"Joe told me you were terribly upset." She waited a beat, then continued. "He also told me something else."

Frank raised an inquiring eyebrow – at least that didn't hurt! "Sometimes Joe has a big mouth. What did he tell you?"

"He told me about your girlfriend who went to Colorado and then wrote, dumping you." Her eyes held a very tender expression. "I'm sorry, Frank."

"It's – done with now. Over. Kaput. She's happy out there. I'm – am I happy here?" he suddenly questioned her, smiling a little.

"I want you to be happy here," Megan whispered. "Frank, you're more than special to me, too. I liked you the minute I saw you. I wanted to be friends – more than friends." She paused a moment, then went on, leaning closer still. "You not only solved the case I asked you to, Frank Hardy of the famous Hardy Boys, you saved my life. You risked your own life for mine. That's something I can never repay, never say enough thank yous for. I can't make it up to you, or even make you understand how much you mean to me…."

Frank pulled her even nearer, and as her lips touched his, she whispered, "But I intend to spend a very long time trying."

The End