Joe heard a muffled sob and wondered who it was, when he suddenly realized it wasn’t a nightmare - and the person he heard was himself. Memories came flooding back as he recalled Matthew Barning taking the close relationship between he and Frank and tearing it apart piece by piece, using it to defend Keith Rashman’s vicious assault. He barely remembered leaving the courtroom and the only thing he could recall after returning to the hotel was his mother insisting he take some aspirin…

‘Aspirin...or sleeping pills?’ Joe wondered and decided he couldn’t blame her for lying to him. ‘At least I got to sleep through the night…for once.’

Hearing the door to the bedroom suite open, Joe rolled over and feigned sleep, deciding he really didn’t want to face the world just yet. He felt a twinge of guilt as he recognized the scent of Vanessa’s perfume. The bed moved slightly as she sat down next to him and he felt her hand on his cheek. She sat for several minutes, unmoving and he could feel her eyes on him. Joe wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep up the charade when she sighed heavily and removed her hand. He felt her breath on his face as she leaned down.

"I’m so sorry, Baby," Joe heard her whisper and felt her lips lightly brush against his.

The bed moved again and he heard her retreating footsteps and a click as the door closed. Muffled voices just outside floated in to him and he stiffened.

Still feeling the effects of the sleeping pills, Joe’s tortured imagination blew the previous days events way out of proportion. He drifted back to sleep convinced Frank wanted nothing more to do with him. In his current foggy state, he was certain Frank blamed him for the way Barning had twisted their bond and used their closeness to his own advantage.

*****

"He’s still asleep," Vanessa told Frank glancing at her watch, a worried frown creasing her forehead. "It’s been almost twenty-four hours."

"That was a pretty strong sedative the doctor prescribed," Frank tried to reassure her. "He’ll probably sleep for a few more hours and still be kind of out of it when he wakes up."

"I guess," Vanessa replied looking at the closed door behind her.

"Look at it this way, at least he’s getting plenty of uninterrupted sleep," Frank said leading Vanessa down the hall.

Leaning her head on his shoulder as they walked she sighed heavily. When she spoke her voice quivered. "I still can’t believe Barning did that. Joe was just devastated. The one thing that means more to him than anything in the world was used against him. Doesn’t that man have any conscience at all?" She wiped at her eyes, recalling the zombie-like state Joe had been in by the time they’d gotten back to the hotel.

"No, he doesn’t," Frank replied angrily. "But don’t worry, Joe will bounce back."

"Are you sure?" Vanessa stopped abruptly and stared at him. "The last time I saw him like that was…" she stopped not even wanting to say the words, "…was when he was in the Campbell Center."

Frank reached out and wiped away the lone tear trailing down her cheek. "I know, Van, but it’s not going to happen again. I won’t let it. No one is ever going to take my brother away from me like that again," Frank promised her. "No one."

Seeing the uncertainty on her face, Frank tentatively opened his arms, inviting her to let him comfort her. Without hesitation, she accepted, resting her head against his chest, Vanessa closed her eyes and reminded herself Frank was the one who brought Joe back from darkness the last time. She repeated to herself over and over again that if he did it once, he could do it again, and very slowly she began to believe it.

*****

Joe heard the voices approaching once again. Glancing back over his shoulder at the clock, he saw that he’d been sitting, staring out the balcony doors for well over an hour. Hearing the bedroom door open, he sighed regretfully. Time to face the real world again…

"Joe, you’re up!" Frank sounded surprised.

"Yeah," Joe replied trying to force a smile for his brother’s sake.

"When did you wake up?"

"A little while ago," he replied vaguely as Frank sat down in the chair next to him.

"How do you feel?" Frank asked watching Joe anxiously.

Joe threw his brother a sidelong glance and wry grin. "Like I was drugged."

"Yeah, well sorry about that, but you needed a good night’s sleep." Frank replied with no remorse.

"Your idea, I suppose?"

"No, actually it was Mom’s. But I agreed with her. So did Dad…and Vanessa…and Callie," Frank replied. "So other than that… how do you feel? Are you okay?"

Joe thought about lying, simply wanting everything to go away, but he couldn’t even find the energy to do that. "I can’t take anymore, Frank," he responded quietly. "I can’t."

"You don’t have to, Joe. It’s really over now. No more testifying, no more cross examination, no more closing arguments," Frank reminded him. "All we have to do is wait for the jury to find him guilty."

"Yeah, well what’s taking them so long?" Joe asked turning troubled blue eyes on his brother.

Frank saw the pain and the doubt Joe didn’t even attempt to hide. "There were a whole lot of charges lodged against him. They have to reach a decision on each one individually. That’s what’s taking so long."

Joe stared at his brother for a long moment. With a shake of his head, he looked away. "If you say so," he said, sounding resigned.

Frank sighed inwardly knowing that look. No matter what he said Joe wouldn’t believe him; not yet anyway.

"So you ready for something to eat?" he asked changing the subject.

"Nah," Joe shook his head staring out the wall of glass into the fading afternoon light.

"Oh, come on, Joe. You haven’t eaten anything since breakfast yesterday morning. You must be starving," Frank prodded him.

"Well, I’m not, okay?!" Joe said crossly, suddenly starting to feel smothered. "Maybe I’ll just go back to sleep…"

‘No appetite, wants to sleep all the time… Oh no you don’t, little brother,’ Frank thought, immediately recognizing the signs of depression Joe had exhibited all those months ago.

"Uh-uh," Frank shook his head, "not until you have at least a little something to eat. So make up your mind. Where do you want to go for dinner?" Frank asked thinking it would do Joe some good to get out of the suite no matter how badly he wanted to hide from the world.

"Where do I want to go?" Joe repeated suddenly sounding very far away. "Home." He said it so softly Frank almost didn’t hear.

Joe sounded so heartbreakingly despondent Frank had to look away for a moment. "I know, little brother, so do I. And we will be home soon," Frank responded overcoming the lump that had suddenly formed in his throat. "For now, how about we just go down to the hotel dining room?" he suggested, now desperate to get Joe out of his self-imposed isolation.

Joe resisted the urge to fling a sarcastic reply at his brother, knowing Frank was just trying to help. "Sure, that sounds fine," he forced a smile as he stood up, "I’ll be out in a few minutes."

With that, Joe turned and retreated to the bathroom. Shutting the door behind him, he leaned back against it and hung his head. Slowly, he slid down until he was sitting on the floor. Pulling his knees into his chest, Joe rested his head on his arms, feeling the depression settle deep into his soul.