Joe groaned as they gently lowered him down onto the couch and tried to protest, insisting he was okay.

"Okay my eye", Chet growled as he hurried out of the room to get Joe something to bring his fever down. He came back with an aspirin and glass of water and while he helped Joe sit up to take it, Iola went into the kitchen to get some cool water and a cloth. He was burning up.

"We need to get his sweater off to get him cooled down", Iola insisted as she wiped the perspiration from his forehead, face and neck. Joe shivered and tried to push her away, "No…" he muttered, "Cold…"

Chet agreed knowing the sooner they could get him cooled down, the better he would feel.

"Okay, let’s sit him up, "Chet instructed and started to pull Joe up gently, "and then you can pull his sweater off."

William’s words burned into his memory and Joe struggled out of Chet’s grasp, "No!" he gasped, "Leave…my sweater…on." His words were halting through a dry mouth.

Frowning Chet started to protest but Joe grew even more agitated and casting Iola a look, he saw her shrug and gave in, "Okay…for now."

"Do you want something to drink?" Iola asked as she could feel the heat coming from his skin and knew he needed to stay hydrated.

Joe nodded and after sipping as much water as he thought he could keep down, he relaxed a bit, and drifted into an uneasy sleep. Iola laid the cool cloth on his forehead as she continued to gently stroke his hair.

Chet sat down on the coffee table and watched his friend sleeping. His mind was consumed with guilt over what he had almost done…and it wasn’t even Joe…it was William.

"I think I better call Frank", Chet decided as he appraised Joe. The kid looked horrible and it further intensified his feelings of remorse. And then he thought about that look in Joe’s eyes when he tried to help him…that was something he wouldn’t be able to forget for a long time.

And with good cause, the boy thought sadly.

His anger refreshed, Chet muttered angrily, "You just wait ‘til I get my hands on William."

Joe jolted out of his light slumber.

"NO!" he gasped struggling to sit up. The aspirin was already starting to do its work and although the world still swam, it wasn’t as badly as before.

"Joe", Iola restrained him gently, "you need to lie still…you’re sick. Chet is going to call Frank and then we’ll get you home."

"No…you don’t understand…" Joe persisted, his blue eyes electric with emotion, "you can’t go after him…you can’t!"

Chet bristled, misreading Joe’s intention, "Excuse me? You’re trying to protect that piece of scum!"

"No…no", Joe shook his head instantly regretting it as a bolt of pain laced across his forehead but he forced himself to press on. He wouldn’t let William hurt anyone else, not while he still had breath left in him, "you don’t understand…"

Even as Joe continued Iola shivered hearing William’s voice in the stall… if you make any noise Iola…I will kill you…and her fear was renewed.

"You can’t go anywhere near him Chet…he’s dangerous…. very dangerous."

* * *

William was having a wonderful time. The cool autumn day was very exhilarating and the boys had a great time tossing the football around.

It was the middle of the afternoon before the Prito’s decided to call it quits and head over to Mr. Pizza’s for a bite to eat, and they invited William to go along.

"Sure, just give me a sec will you", and then he trotted towards the small facilities building that provided toileting and water fountains to the park patrons.

As Tony waited he noticed his older brother Angelo watching Will leaving with a small frown on his face.

"What’s up, bro?" the younger boy asked. At 20 years old, Angelo Prito was the oldest one hanging out with them today. To his father’s chagrin, instead of going to college after high school, Angelo wanted to go and work for his uncle’s construction company and had been working there since.

Tony insisted he did it to show off his muscles which Angelo promptly denied and then threatened to squash him for even suggesting so.

An older version of Tony, there was no mistaking they were brothers although Angelo was well built while Tony was still on the lanky side. A huge fan of body building, he often helped Biff come up with inventive weight training routines and was impressed when the 16-year-old started to become quite serious about it.

"Earth to Angelo…come in Angelo", Tony tormented when his brother didn’t acknowledge him right away. Then before he knew what was happening, the older boy had wrapped a brawny arm around his neck and pulled him in tight as he teased, "Do I hear a mosquito buzzing around?"

"Ha ha", Tony quipped sarcastically as he tugged on Angelo’s arm and the older boy released him but not without ruffling his hair first. Making a big production of trying to set some order to his dark wavy hair, Tony repeated, "I asked you what’s up. You had this kind of funny look on your face when you were watching Will."

Angelo sighed and stared thoughtfully into the dark brown eyes watching him wondering if he should mention his concerns to him. Then shrugging his shoulders he tried to word what he was feeling without overly alarming him, "Look Tony just do me a favour okay?"

When he saw Tony nod he continued, "Just be careful. I can’t explain but there’s just something about Will…I don’t know what. But whatever it is, it’s just something… something that’s off…"

Tony was shook up but didn’t say anything as Angelo clapped him on the back before he went over to torment his cousin Mateo who had bought a new car…a beater by the highest praises.

A few minutes later William came trotting back, "Okay Tony, I’m ready." Out of the corner of his eye, Tony saw Angelo glance back at them and then when they were getting ready to leave he called over, "Tony, Will. Hold up. I’ll catch a lift with you guys."

Will moved over and the bigger guy slide in next to him and smiled and then to his credit, Angelo never did or said anything that betrayed what he was really feeling about this new kid.

This kid might look just Joe, but there was no way in hell he was anything like Joe.

* * *

Joe implored his brother’s best friend to listen to him as he forced his voice to continue, "Let me handle him…please."

"Joe…" Chet started to protest, "I have to tell Frank…"

"Tell Frank what?" Joe was really starting to get excited as fear washed over him in waves just thinking what William would do, "That you’re friendly chats now include lumber?"

He didn’t mean for it to come out as harshly as it did but his feverish mind wasn’t allowing him much for tact.

Chet winced, embarrassment now adding to his guilt. He didn’t relish the idea of Frank finding out what he almost did. He tried to seriously hurt Joe for something he didn’t even do.

"Please Chet", Joe was begging. He had no pride left, "please…let me take care of this!"

Wavering, Chet glanced at his doe eyed sister, "If he ever goes anywhere near Iola again…" his voice broke off as Joe nodded as fervently as he could.

"William won’t hurt Iola ever again," brilliant blue eyes promised with sincerity at the angel who was gently stroking his face. He had forgotten how pleasant physical contact could be, "I’ll die before I let that happen."

The amount of conviction in his voice sent cold shivers down Chet’s spine.

"Okay I won’t tell Frank", Chet recanted before adding, "but so help me God Joe. You’d better be right."

And in his heart, Joe knew he was right. William would kill him first before he laid another finger on Iola.

* * *

The sound of the phone ringing roused Frank who had lain down on the couch after Biff left. He promised to tell Joe to call him later.

Groaning as his stomach was tender when he moved too quickly, Frank reached over and grabbed the phone, "H-hardy residence", he said groggily.

"Frank is that you? Are you alright, son?" Fenton was instantly alarmed when heard how bleary his son sounded.

"Yeah", Frank reassured even as he touched his eye and knew he was probably a pretty sight by now, "I was just taking a nap."

"On a Sunday afternoon? Are you sure you’re okay?" his father jibbed knowing his socially gregarious sons were usually anywhere but home much on the weekends.

"Yeah", Frank confirmed, "Just had a term project that I needed to get started on."

"Ah", Fenton sounded sympathetic, "how is everything going?"

Well now, thought Frank, that’s kind of a tricky question isn’t it?

Not wanting to lie, he just said, "Oh its going. Con came by last night for the visual verification that we haven’t killed each other yet", Fenton chuckled and Frank continued before his father could ask for more specifics, "how’s it going there? Any idea of when you’ll be home?"

"Well hopefully tomorrow night or Tuesday morning at the latest", Fenton told him, "Have you spoken to your mother?"

"Actually no", Frank admitted, "I was helping Mr. Shaw this morning when Mom called. I’ll call her later", there had been a message on the machine from her but then after his ‘talk’ with Biff he hadn’t felt like talking to her yet.

"Good. She worries about you boys being by yourself", Fenton admitted and then paused before asking, "How’s Joe been?"

"What do you mean?" Frank asked guardedly something in his father’s tone putting him on edge.

"Well," admitted Fenton, "I had to get a bit harsh with him before I left and remind him that you’re charge and not to give you any grief."

"Oh", was all Frank could think to say and Fenton continued, "I just didn’t know what else to do. He’s become so difficult lately and if he doesn’t want to talk to us about it that’s fine but he needs to move on at least."

Frank felt the hair on the back of his neck go up a bit at that as he heard Biff’s words again… Something is going on with Joe and what do you do? You go around acting like a jerk…

"Dad", he said hesitantly, "maybe we just haven’t given him the chance to talk."

He heard his father sigh although Fenton was not surprised to hear Frank leap to Joe’s defense, he was very protective of his brother, "I suppose. Okay when I get home, I’ll take him aside and see if I can figure this thing out once and for all."

Frank felt a bit better although he wasn’t planning on waiting that long to talk to Joe. This had gone on long enough.

"Well son I better go. Don’t forget to turn on the alarm and take care of each other," then Fenton was gone.

Frank looked down at his watch and started to worry. William was with Tony so it was a good guess he would end up at Mr. Pizza…but where was Joe?

* * *

It was almost suppertime by the time that Chet drove Joe home.

Joe had been grateful because there was no way he could have ridden his bike home.

Not able to stop in, Chet lifted the bike out of the trunk for Joe and made him promise to get some rest. Then with a final honk, he pulled away and left Joe standing in the driveway.

Taking a deep breath, Joe turned slowly and made his way towards the house. He carefully walked with his bike not bothering to conceal the searing pain that radiated from his back as he leaned the bike against the side of the garage.

He would have to put on a façade soon enough, he didn’t want to waste the energy now.

Stiffly, he straightened up as best he could and opened the kitchen door.

To his surprise the kitchen was dark and the house was quiet. For a few moments, Joe thought he lucked out and no one was home but then he heard Frank’s voice from the living room, "Joe is that you?"

And although he was relived not to hear any hostile undertones or accusations in that voice, he really did not want to see anyone right now. Not Frank and especially not William.

He was just in too much pain and shivered as his fevered body made him cold.

"Yeah", Joe managed impressed by the strength in his own voice, marveling at where it might of come from, because honestly when he opened up his mouth he wasn’t sure if his voice was going to work.

"Good", Frank said from the other side of the swinging door seconds before he came into the kitchen, "because we need to talk."

Then he came into the kitchen, turned on the light and for the first time in days, got a really good look at Joe…and gasped.