Joe caught and held his brother’s enraged gaze for just a moment before he sighed and dropped his head. It was no use. They weren’t going to let him explain.  

The dejected boy didn’t bother to even move, afraid that it would launch his own brother into an attack….

* * *

Frank was stunned for one moment when he saw Biff on his back, pinned beneath his own dog – but then he saw the other teen standing next to him and his heart stopped.  

William.  

Intense rage filled him as he quickly crossed the distance across the back yard – William was not getting away this time.  

And then William looked at him.

* * *

“Joe?” the sound of his own name made him whip his head back up as his eyes locked onto Frank’s, whose penetrating gaze searched the younger boy’s face for an explanation.  

Anything but what his heart was already telling him.  

“I… I,” Joe didn’t know what to say; overwhelmed that his brother had recognized him even as he sagged back against the doghouse in weary relief.  Frank had seen him…not William.  

“Frank?” Biff was now standing beside Frank, as Sherlock lay placidly at his feet, once more restored to the docile hound the muscular teen knew.  “What’s going on?”  

“I don’t know,” Frank said slowly, as his gaze came to rest on the cut on his brother’s neck, and his brow furrowed in concern, “but this is Joe. That much I do know.”  

“Are you sure?” Biff had been fooled by William before….Not that he really doubted Frank, he just couldn’t believe so easily.  He didn’t feel what Frank felt when he looked into his brother’s eyes and saw Joe.  

“May I?” Joe asked softly, looking at Biff. He indicated he wanted to show them something and the other boy nodded slightly. Joe still moved slowly, not trusting that someone would misconstrue what he was going to do and jump at him again. Raising his t-shirt up just enough, he turned around, and after a long second he heard Biff gasp.  

“Ohmygod!  I’m so sorry, Joe….I never knew!”  His eyes were wide in horror - he had tried to hit his best friend.  The scars on Joe’s lower back bore witness to who he really was….  

And then Biff turned to Frank.  “If this is Joe then who—”  His words were broken off as Frank just shook his head and placed his hand on Joe’s shoulder, just to confirm what his eyes saw.  

“William.  We have William.”

* * *

“We’re going to use the dogs this morning,” Ezra said.  “Hopefully they can give us some idea where Will’s gone.”  

Fenton looked doubtful, but he was appreciative that his old friend was going to exhaust all his resources before admitting defeat.  “Thanks, Ezra.  I’ve got to head out to the airport – Sam’s flying down to give us a hand.”  

“Good,” the Chief nodded.  He liked and held Fenton’s partner in high regard.  “The more people we have out there looking for William, the better.  I just wish I could put some extra people on this, Fenton, but my guys are stretched as it is.”  

“I understand,” Fenton said, and as an ex-cop, he did, “and that’s why I asked Sam to come down.  It’s time I put the father away on this case and brought out the detective.  We’ve found smaller people in larger cities. It’s time to go pro.”  

Collig smiled and stood up to leave.  William, he thought as he saw the determined look on Fenton’s face, you don’t stand a chance, boy.

* * *

“Where is he?” Joe asked, wincing when Frank put some antiseptic ointment on his neck and then neatly bandaged it. They were back inside Biff’s house, in the kitchen, where Frank was now fussing over his brother.  

He had been appalled to find out what had happened to Joe since he had run out of the house the previous day.  His normally warm brown eyes sizzled darkly when he heard how Doug had set him up when Joe did finally get home – and how close it had come to getting the younger boy killed.  

“He told the police you have a gun,” Frank added quietly, when Joe finished talking and sipped on a cup of hot chocolate.  Biff was making some soup and crackers for his hungry friend.  The younger boy had not eaten since the popcorn at Iola’s house on Friday night, and neither Biff nor Frank thought it would be wise for him to try anything heavier yet.  

Joe sighed.  “That’s not surprising.  He was probably hoping the police would kill me.”  

“Why?” Biff asked, putting the soup down in front of Joe.  “If he was getting you for William, then why get you killed?  I’m sure Will wouldn’t be too pleased to find out you were dead.”  

“Biff, trust me. The consequences for not doing what William asks you can be a strong motivator.  I guess Doug figured it was the lesser of the two evils.  Will might be pissed off about not getting to spend…” he blanched, “to spend any time with me, but at least I couldn’t mess up his plans.”  

“He’s at Con’s,” Frank said, closing the first aid kit and then leaning over to inspect the goose egg on the back of his brother’s head.  

“Con’s? Ow!” Joe said, as Frank’s fingers brushed the tender lump, although he was trying to be gentle.  

“Sorry,” the older boy apologized, and then looked deeply into his brother’s eyes to see if they were dilating properly.  He was concerned that Joe might have gotten a concussion.  “How’s your head?”  

“Frank,” Joe said patiently, understanding that his brother ‘needed’ to make sure he was okay, “I’m fine.  It’s fine.  Really.”  

Not really convinced but knowing that his brother had taken all the doctoring he was about to endure for now, Frank sat back down next to him and shook his head.  “I should have known.  Something was just off about him.  But I still didn’t pick it up like I should have.”  

Joe bit his lip, hating it whenever his brother felt bad about anything.  “Frank. You would have put it together.  You told me you were already picking up weird vibes about him.  I hate to admit it, but even you are human, dear brother.  And Will…well, Will is a dead ringer for me.”  

Two sets of eyes jerked up to look at him, stunned by his choice of words and Joe gave a shrug.  “Okay, deny it?”  

Unable to do so, Frank stood up.  “I need to talk to Dad. He needs to know and we have to warn Con...”   

Joe started to get up, but Frank put his hand on his shoulder and gently pushed him back down.  “You stay here and take it easy.    You’ve done your part; you got back here.  And thanks to Sherlock—”  he smiled down at the pooch that was snoozing lightly on the floor next to Joe’s feet, “you got a chance to tell us about this.”  

“But—” Joe started to argue, but Frank fixed him with a stern look.  

“No, little brother, I mean it.  You stay here where I know where you are and that you’re safe.  Joe, if you come with me….Well, I just don’t want to take the chance that someone else takes a shot at you thinking you’re William or something.”  

Paling, Joe realized the sense of Frank’s words.  So he gave a little nod as Frank squeezed his shoulder affectionately.  

“So rest up kiddo, after all, you still have to explain to Chet why Liz’s package never got sent.”  

Joe made a face, having completely forgotten about that.  “Okay, but be careful big brother, please?”  

“Hey I am the careful one.”  Frank ruffled Joe’s hair and then left the kitchen with Biff right behind him.  

“Keep an eye on him, Biff,” the dark-haired boy said to their friend, “and don’t let him leave this house for any reason! I won’t be gone long.”  

“You don’t even have to ask,” Biff promised, “But Joe’s right.  Be careful, Frank.  William probably knows by now that Joe’s escaped, and who knows how he’s going to react to that.”  

“I know, my friend,” Frank said grimly, his own memory haunted by what Will’s anger could do.  “Trust me, I know.”  

And then he left the house.  

He needed to talk to his father, right away.

* * *

Joe was just finishing his soup when he heard Sherlock barking. He and Biff looked out the patio door to see what had gotten the dog riled, and Joe felt all the blood drain out of his face.  

As they watched, a large police dog easily jumped the fence and made a beeline towards Sherlock’s doghouse – Joe had been tracked.  

“Hide!” Biff hissed, even as he opened the patio door and, keeping his own dog inside, he went outside to meet the police.  

Joe glanced around in panic, knowing that the dog would easily track him into Biff’s house.  Making a split-second decision, and knowing Frank was going to kill him for doing so, Joe raced towards the front door and outside.  

Seeing Biff’s car in the driveway, Joe ran towards it, hoping the doors were unlocked, as he knew Biff sometimes didn’t bother with security when he was at home.  

“Yes,” the blond boy hissed in relief as the door opened, and within seconds the engine roared to life, as Joe hotwired the car and then backed out of the driveway.  

Resisting the temptation to speed away, as that would draw too much attention, Joe pulled away from the house knowing exactly where he was going.  

He was going to Con’s.