"You can't honestly expect me to tell you which one of my sons to kill," Fenton said angrily, his brown eyes glaring at Steven Kaputalos, a man whom Fenton had sent to prison for life three years ago, but who had escaped just a week ago.

"You either choose, or they both die," Kaputalos said quietly.

"You're mad!" Fenton shouted.

"Have it your way," Kaputalos said and leveled the gun at Frank's head.

"No, wait!" shouted Fenton frantically, staring at his teen-aged sons, bound and gagged, on either side of Kaputalos. "Joe," Fenton said dully. "Kill Joe."

Frank's soulful brown eyes widened in horrified shock. Joe swallowed and closed his eyes. Kaputalos lowered the gun and laughed. "See kids, daddy loves you both equally." He reached over and grabbed Frank's brown hair and pulled his head back. "Now Joey gets to live with the knowledge you loved his dead brother more than him," he added to Fenton, once again pointing the gun at Frank.

"No!" yelled Fenton, eyes wide with horror as Kaputalos cocked the handle. Frank closed his eyes as the roar of a gun zipped through the room. The pressure on his head ceased as his hair was released and he heard something fall to the floor. He opened his eyes and saw Kaputalos lying on the floor, a pool of blood forming around his head.

Sam Radley, a friend and associate of his father's, stood in the doorway, gun in hand. He reached Joe first and untied his hands then untied Frank's as Joe untied his feet. Sam was releasing Fenton when Joe jumped up and flung himself at Frank, crying because he had come so close to losing his brother. Frank held Joe and patted his blond head comfortingly until he heard a voice beside him.

"Son," Fenton said, tears in his eyes.

Frank released Joe and gently pushed him back. He turned to look at the man he had loved and trusted his entire life. He looked back at Joe and saw the hurt and betrayal in his eyes as he looked at his father. Frank turned back to Fenton and let go with a right uppercut that sent him crashing to the floor. "Don't ever call me that again," Frank said in a voice so low, it was almost a whisper. He then took Joe by the arm and pulled him out the door.

Not having their van, they began walking back to Bayport. After a couple of miles, Joe started talking. "Frank, Dad had to choose one of us. He was going to kill us both."

Frank kept walking, not answering. He was still torn up inside, not believing his father would tell someone to kill his own son.

"Frank, please," Joe said desperately, as he came to a standstill. "I'm forgiving him, why can't you?"

"How can you?" Frank asked, stopping and turning to look a this brother's blue eyes which, regardless of his words, were still filled with pain.

"You're his first born," Joe said, trying to rationalize for his own sake, as well as Frank's. "You look like him. You two have always had a closer relationship."

"Stop it!" ordered Frank. "Stop making excuses for him. I hate him," declared Frank. "I never want to see him again," he added, beginning to walk at a fast clip.

"You have to," Joe said, keeping up. "We live with him."

"Not anymore," Frank decided quickly. He thought he and Joe could rent an apartment, get their detective licenses and be completely independent of their father. He would get a job if he had to until they finished high school and could become professionals.

"What about mom?" Joe asked.

Frank stopped, stunned. He'd forgotten about her in his anger. "Maybe she'll kick him out," Frank said with a smile. Joe just shook his head and the two finished their trek home in silence.

Arriving home, they were greeted at the door by their mother. "What's wrong?" Joe asked, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and looking at her blood-shot green eyes, and tear stained cheeks.

"Your father got home an hour ago," she replied. "He told me what happened."

"And he's still here?" Frank asked in disgust.

"He's your father," she stated simply.

"Not by choice," was Frank's remark.

"Frank, please," begged his mother. "I don't want to lose any of you. Try to forgive him." She turned to Joe. "I'm so sorry," she said, pushing a stray strand of hair off his forehead.

"It's okay," he replied, giving her a quick hug. "Dad was in a no-win situation," he added. "I just wish Frank could realize that."

They all went into the living room. Fenton stood up as they entered. "Good night," Frank said to Joe and his mother, then turned and went upstairs.

Fenton sat down and buried his face in his hands. Joe looked at his mom and indicated she should leave the room, then he went and sat beside his father. He put an arm around his shoulders and hugged him. "It's okay dad. I understand you had to do it. Frank will too."

Fenton looked up and into Joe's eyes. He closed his own and shook his head slightly, then got up and left the room. Joe just sat there, trying hard not to cry.

Frank's door burst open and he sat up quickly. "Get out!" he ordered his dad.

"Not until we talk," Fenton stated firmly.

"There's nothing you have to say that I want to hear," Frank told him.

"I'm not going to apologize for choosing you over Joe," Fenton told Frank. "If I had to make the same choice again, I would."

"What?" Frank demanded. "Why? Do you hate Joe? He's your son too. Why are you being this way?"

"Because he isn't my son," Fenton said calmly.