Chapter Text
JB heard the sounds of the hooded figure rummaging through his closet looking for the hidden entryway to the adjacent room just as he slipped out the back way. In his rush to escape he hadn’t taken the time to get the tape out of the recorder. It would just have to stay behind for the time being. And hopefully, stay safe from the intruder. Right now he needed to get to The Yellow Feather bar to meet up with the Hardy boys.
While sneaking out of the apartment building he started thinking back to what had just happened inside, the scene he had just seen on his surveillance camera. The hooded cloak the shooter had worn had been the same as in the picture of their mother that the brothers had received, but the person under the hood had not been Laura. That much he was sure of. He remembered her face from the pictures he had seen of her in the Hardy boys home from the earlier times when he had sneaked in. JB knew this information would be a mix of relief and added heartbreak for the boys, but he figured it probably better to think she was still dead than to believe she was a killer.
The streets of the city were a familiar place. Even in the dark he didn’t have any problems finding his way. Unsure if the hooded figure or their associates had managed to follow him from the apartment he ventured down several detours, hoping to keep himself, and in extension the boys, safe, rather than getting to the bar too fast with a bogey on his tail. If the brothers got there before he did, they would wait. Navigating through the backstreets from his apartment to the bar, JB kept a constant eye out for anyone who could be following him or acting suspicious. But he neither saw nor heard anything other than the normal nighttime sights and sounds of a bustling city.
Finally arriving at the busy, familiar street with the bar he greeted the doorman and made his way in. Heading to the bar counter he ordered a Shirley Temple to try and calm his nerves. After taking a couple of swallows from his drink he started looking around the bar, relaxing a little. Still no sign of the brothers or any unwelcome entities. Throwing back the rest of his drink he wandered over to the pool table to watch the last part of a game. The players were familiar faces and JB talked with them as they sunk their last balls. After the finishing shot the man who had lost handed his cue to JB and the winner set up for a new match.
They had been going for a few rounds, with JB looking around now and then to look for the boys, when he finally saw a glimpse of Frank in the crowded bar. Nodding with a raised hand towards Frank, he indicated to his match partner that he had to end the game and gave his cue back to the first opponent. He turned his full attention towards the boys when he noticed a glimpse of something else not too far behind the boys. Squinting his eyes and shifting his focus towards that something, JB felt his blood run cold. It was the hooded woman, and her focus was solely on the boys.
The following seconds felt like an eternity to JB. Everything around him seemed to slow down. The clinking of the balls on the pool table. The laughter and talk of the bar’s patrons. Every movement seemed to take at least twice or thrice as long. Except the cloaked figure. She seemed to be moving at normal speed, and even through the throng of the bar he saw the gun she had just plucked out of her pocket. Still frozen to his place JB saw the hand with the gun being raised, finger at the trigger and aimed straight at the brothers. With no time to think it through or warn them he lurched forward, desperate to try and get them away from the trajectory of the bullets.
He reached Frank first and a small nonsensical part of his brain found the confused look on the older brother’s face amusing as he pushed him to the side and out of harms way. But he didn’t give himself time to enjoy it, cause while Frank was now probably safe, Joe was definitely not. Heart beating painfully hard in his chest with adrenaline he staggered the last few steps forward towards the younger one.
Reaching Joe, JB grabbed him by the arms and made a desperate attempt to turn them around so he could get between the gun and the boy who had awakened a strong protective instinct in him like nothing he had felt before in his life. The blood was pounding through his ears and his heart felt like a racehorse barreling towards the finish line. JB sensed Joe tensing just as he heard two distinct pop pop sounds and felt a searing pain in his upper arm. Looking down he saw a tear in his jacket and some blood running warmly down his arm. Still holding on to Joe he braced himself to hear another pop and feel another bullet tear through his body. But to his relief the only sounds were those of the patrons in the bar screaming and running to safety.
Catching his breath he took a quick look at Joe’s face, seemingly stunned but otherwise fine. Relieved, he risked a quick glance backwards towards the door and saw the back of the coat as the gunman hastened out along with the rest of the fleeing crowd. Breathing a sigh of relief JB looked towards Frank to see he had moved towards the door, his attention also drawn towards where the shooter had just walked through. A cursory glance gleamed no obvious injuries on the older brother either and JB felt his heart starting to calm down.
JB felt a sense of ease as it seemed the situation had blown over with only a graze wound to his arm and the two brothers still standing. But the warm sensation caused by the ease quickly turned to ice in his veins when he felt a tremble going through Joe’s body before the boy suddenly fell forwards into JB’s chest. Quickly moving his arms around Joe’s back in an attempt to get a better grip and support him he felt something warm and sticky on his hand. Raising it slightly he saw the telltale red of blood covering it. “Joey?” JB heard the slight quiver in his own voice as he grasped the younger boy tighter. The faltering was enough to catch the attention of the older Hardy boy, and he quickly turned towards the others, brain struggling to catch up and make sense of the scene in front of him after everything that had just happen.
But the confusion quickly lost its grip once he started to understand what he saw. Joe was leaning heavily on JB who was looking at his outstretched hand covered in a red substance. Fearing the worst he started moving towards the duo with his heart beating hard in his chest. Frank had only moved a few steps forward when Joe’s legs buckled and JB scrambled to get a better grip to keep him from falling too hard to the ground. In an instance Frank was next to them and helped to gently lower the youngest boy to the ground.
The red of the blood seeping through his t-shirt was a stark contrast to its original color of gray. JB quickly moved his hands to press down on where the blood seemed to come from. Frowning slightly he started looking around the room for something. Something he could use to keep the pressure with if Frank were to guess. “Jacket” he said to call on JB's attention as he shrugged his off and handed it over. With a grateful nod JB hurriedly folded it together to have a smaller surface but more layers to push down on the wound.
JB's head was racing a thousand miles a minute but he couldn’t catch a single one. He had never really look back at his time as a boy scout with much joy, but right now he was thankful his parents had forced him to go for as many years as they did, about every summer vacation before his mother died, and that counselor old-man Rogers didn’t care about what was “appropriate” or “strictly necessary” first-aid to teach to young boys who thought the worst they might experience in their life was a broken bone or a cut from not handling knives with the proper respect.
He had made no conscious action that he was aware of when he started putting pressure with his hands on the wound, but he realized that he had gone into autopilot just as he received Frank's jacket when looking for something that would help put pressure on the wound. Taking a few deep breaths to try and clear his mind, he thought back to his summers with old-man Rogers to try and think what was next.
“The exit wound. We should put something there as well.” JB nodded as Franks voice filtered through his racing mind. His earlier assessment of the room had revealed nothing viable to use within close range, but now, looking down on his hands as they pressed Frank's jacket down on the wound, his scattered brain settled long enough to realize that he too had a jacket they could use.
“My jacket,” he breathed out through gritted teeth. “I need to let go to take it off.”
“Okay, I got it.” Frank scuttled closer, putting his hands down on the jacket, slowly increasing pressure as J.B. released his. Not wasting any time he shed his jacket as quickly as he could through gritted teeth, the movements pulled on his wound making it smart. After getting it off, he folded it and with no verbal communication, worked with Frank to ease it under Joe’s back, approximately where JB had first felt the blood.
Switching back, JB once again pushed down a little harder to increase the pressure on both the entry and the exit wound. Just as he did that, a pained groan was uttered from the until now quiet boy on the ground. Snapping their heads around both of the older boys looked down to see the youngest stirring slightly.
Hazy blue eyes opened, looking around without really focusing. Shuffling to Joe’s other side, Frank leaned in and gently placed his hands on either side of his brother's face to try and get his attention. The touch seemed to help ground the younger boy somewhat as his eyes cleared a bit to focus on his older brother's face.
“How are you feeling bud?” Frank managed to get the words out relatively calm, but JB could hear, and feel, the effort it took him to keep his emotions from taking over his voice completely.
“Mmm’ okey” came the murmured reply. Raising an eyebrow, Frank's face showed clear disbelief at the response. As if to prove his point that he was okay, Joe shifted slightly in a weak attempt to sit up. Quickly, Frank moved his hands to Joe’s shoulders, carefully pushing down to discourage him from moving.
“Whoah there buddy. Take it easy. Lay down.” Huffing slightly at his brother, Joe settled down again without any of his usual stubbornness.
Concentrating on keeping sufficient, but not painful, amount of pressure on Joe’s wounds, JB didn’t really notice the sudden shift of the youngest ones attention. “You’re hurt." Turning his head at the words he found Joe looking worried and quizzically at him. Or more preciously, at the rift in his arm and the blood running down. Weakly he raised his hand and grazed JB’s arm right under the wound.
“I’m fine Joey. I’ve had worse.”
“Like what?”
“Can’t think of any right now.”
Huffing again Joe laid his arm back down and started closing his eyes. Worriedly Frank leaned forward again, talking to him, trying to ask random questions in order to keep him awake. It was mildly successful, but it wasn’t hard to see that Joe was struggling to keep himself conscious.
In the distance, JB could hear the sounds of the emergency vehicles as they came closer. Mentally kicking himself for not thinking to call earlier, he was relieved to know that at least one of the fleeing patrons must have had their wits about them enough to call the police.
In the unnatural quiet of the bar, JB half listened to the conversation between the brothers, Joe’s answers becoming shorter and more subdued with each response.
Doing his best to keep his brother conscious, Frank was racking his brain to think of things that might get his brother to react enough to keep him awake a little longer. At least till the ambulance arrived. But as the responses grew shorter and his eyes heavier, Frank knew he was losing the battle.
Not sure what else to do, Frank kept talking about everything and nothing. Memories from their earlier, happier childhood. Things he had recently learned in school. Random stories Phil would tell. Nothing he said was complete sentences or made too much sense, only flighty thoughts coming out chaotically as soon as they crossed his mind.
A few minutes after Joe had opened his eyes, they were closed again. Frank’s heart beat even harder in his chest as he tried to keep his panic under control. He kept one hand on his brother’s chest and the other at his throat to make sure he was still breathing, all the while whispering “stay with me Joe” over and over and fighting back the tears that were threatening to fall.
Not long after Joe fell back into unconsciousness, JB could finally hear the screeching of tires as the emergency vehicles came to a stop on the street outside.
Looking up as the door flew open, he saw two officers rush into the room. Trained eyes quickly assessed the scene, and noting the lack of any immediate threat, made their way over to the trio on the floor. The second officer through the door paused after a few steps to radio in “scene clear, need medical in here.” Meanwhile the other one walked straight up to them trying to evaluate the situation and the obvious injury. Seeing that there was nothing he could do to help at the moment, he kept back and tried to gather his first impressions of the crime scene.
A minute or two after the officer had called the all clear, the doors opened again, and this time two paramedics swiftly moved through them, rolling a stretcher and bags with medical equipment. Springing forward, the contemplating officer quickly cleared a space around the injured boy by pushing some chairs and tables a little ways away.
Starting to feel the strain in his arms from keeping the pressure, and the pain of his own injury, JB felt relieved as one of the paramedics knelt next to him and indicated for him to give them some room to work. Feeling the weariness of his body, and knowing his legs would probably not be able to support him immediately, JB scooted backwards till his back hit the pool table where he only minutes before had been playing a round before the brothers arrived.
Turning his attention to the paramedics working on Joe, JB caught sight of Frank a short distance behind them struggling with one of the officers to get back to his brother’s side. Frank must have, understandably, been unwilling to move away once the paramedics started working and then forcibly been dragged back, JB surmised. Even with the size and strength difference between them, the officer still had to work hard to keep the teen from rushing forward. JB couldn’t hear anything from where he sat by the pool table, but he could clearly see the officer trying to calm Frank down, trying to help him realize through his panic that they needed to give the paramedics some space to work on the injured boy.
After a couple of seconds of watching the struggle, JB got up on shaky legs and made a wide berth around the working paramedics before ending up in front of Frank. Stepping into his line of sight, JB put his hands on Frank’s shoulders with a firm grip. Seemingly feeling trapped between the officer and this new presence, Frank tried to pull away and to the side, but JB gripped him a little tighter to keep him from moving too much to the side. Looking towards the officer standing behind Frank, JB indicated for him to move back and let him try. As the officer nodded and stepped back, JB resumed his focus on the younger boy in front of him. Searchingly, he tried to make eye contact with the unfocused eyes of the teenager. After a few more unsuccessful attempts at pulling free from the hands holding him, Frank’s eyes finally shifted to look at the person in front of him.
As their eyes met JB started to increase and then release the grip he had on Frank’s shoulders. Keeping an even rhythm with his hands he also started breathing deeply in an audible way to make sure Frank heard him. At first it seemed to have no effect, but after a little while of keeping the rhythm with his hands and breathing he saw Frank’s eyes starting to clear a little. His breaths became deeper and more audibly as well as the tension eased slightly off his body.
Nodding encouraging, JB continued a little longer till he saw that Frank’s eyes had cleared almost back to normal. At that point he slowly released his hands and stepped back while keeping his eyes on Frank. As Frank took a few deep breaths of his own and made no attempt to throw himself forwards again, JB stepped back and to the side, giving Frank a bit of space to calm himself.
Nodding gratefully at JB Frank turned his attention back toward the paramedics and saw they had transferred Joe on to the stretcher readying to roll him out. Taking a step forwards out of reflex he felt the unwelcome hands of the officer he had struggled with just moments before, grabbing him and dragging him back. His rage started to boil at this officer who once again tried to keep him away from his brother. Frank felt his fits clench, and if the other officer hadn’t stepped in at that moment, he would probably have spun around and decked the one holding him in the face.
“They’re about ready to move out and they have room for one of you. Would either of you like to ride along?”
“Yes, he’s my brother!” Frank’s response was fast and the tone dared anyone around him to tell him that he couldn’t go with his brother. The officer nodded, indicated to the other officer to let go and then moved out of the teenager’s way.
Rushing forward to the stretcher, Frank looked down at his brother. Joe’s face was white and there was an unnatural stillness to him that gave Frank chills down his back. The only time his brother had ever been this still was when he had been really sick growing up. Even then, while he wasn’t able to move around too much due to the sickness, you would still see the way his eyes looked around, soaking in what he saw and trying to make sense of the world around him. But there was no sign of that curiosity now as he lay unmoving on the stretcher.
Looking up at the paramedic beside him he received an encouraging smile as the paramedic inclined his head towards the door, indicating it was time to move.
Grabbing a hold of Joe’s hand, Frank kept one eye on his brother and the other on the path in front of him to keep himself from tripping and falling. Reaching the ambulance took no time at all and Frank stepped back as they loaded the stretcher in the back. After the stretcher had been secured, Frank accepted the outstretched hand of the paramedic in the back assisting him as he climbed in and sat heavily down on the available seat. Looking out, the last thing he saw as the ambulance doors closed was the flickering neon lights on the sign of the Yellow Feather bar.