"Joe, what’s wrong?" Vanessa asked.

She turned on the small light on the nightstand, now wide-awake and very concerned. Joe had never reacted to a nightmare like this before and she was terrified.

He closed his eyes as tears slid down his cheeks. "No…" he said again, leaning over and covering his ears with his hands as if to block out a sound only he could hear.

"No! Stop!" he yelled, rocking back and forth.

Vanessa put an arm around him, trying to comfort him.

"Joe, please tell me what’s wrong." She said, getting more frightened by the minute.

"Don’t touch me!!" he screamed at her, pulling away.

"I’m sorry." She shrank back from him. ‘What’s happening to him?!’ she thought, panic-stricken.

Suddenly he bolted from the bed and ran for the bathroom, slamming the door. She could hear him throwing up. Realizing that whatever was happening with Joe was more than she could deal with alone, she grabbed the phone. Pressing the speed dial for his parents, she continued to stare at the bathroom door. Fenton Hardy picked up the phone on the first ring, but Vanessa didn’t even give him a chance to speak.

"Something’s wrong with Joe!" she cried out, her voice shaking.

"What happened?" Fenton asked, instantly awake.

"I don’t know. He woke up screaming; absolutely terrified."

"Did he say anything? Anything at all?" Fenton was already out of bed and getting dressed while cradling the phone between his ear and shoulder.

"He said something like ‘it was real’ and he kept saying ‘no’ and ‘stop’. When I touched him he almost went crazy." She replied.

"Where is he now?"

"He’s in the bathroom…throwing up." She began crying softly. "What’s happening to him?"

"We’re on our way. We’ll be there in five minutes." He replied, pointedly ignoring her question. Knowing Joe’s habit of running away whenever things got too overwhelming for him, Fenton added. "Vanessa, no matter what happens, don’t let him leave. Do whatever it takes to keep him there."

"Ok. I will," she replied. "Please hurry."

Hanging up the phone she heard the water running in the bathroom and then nothing but Joe crying and talking to himself. Cautiously, she opened the bathroom door and looked into the room, her heart breaking at what she saw.

Huddled on the floor in a corner of the bathroom, Joe was sobbing, crying so hard he could barely catch his breath. Warily, she approached him and kneeled on the floor.

"Joe." She said softly. "Honey, can you tell me what’s wrong?"

He didn’t respond, but continued crying and mumbling to himself.

Tentatively, she reached for his hand.

"NO!!!" he screamed, lashing out at her. "No! Don’t touch me! Leave me alone!" Pulling his knees in tighter, he tried to make himself as small as possible. "Please, don’t make me do that." He sobbed.

Wide-eyed, Vanessa backed away. His body language set off all kinds of alarms for her. It was exactly what she had done every single time she awoke from a nightmare about the rape.

‘Oh, no. Please, God, no.’ The thought suddenly struck her with terrifying force. ‘Has he been abused? Or molested?’ Just the thought of it broke her heart.

Heeding Fenton Hardy’s words, she sat on the floor just outside the bathroom door, never taking her eyes off Joe. She ached to put her arms around him and comfort him as he had done for her so many times in the past month. Knowing that would only cause him more pain she simply watched as he cried, mumbling and talking to himself. Every once in a while he would look at her with terror in his eyes as if she were the enemy.

"Please don’t make me watch!" he pleaded looking at Vanessa.

"Make them stop!" he screamed, covering his ears once again. "You’re hurting them!"

Vanessa could only watch, helplessly.

"Hang on, Baby." She whispered. "They’ll be here any minute."

It seemed like hours, but was less than five minutes when she heard the buzzer announcing the arrival of Joe’s parents. Quickly she ran out to the living room and pressed the button allowing them access to the building. She opened the door and waited anxiously in the hallway for them. Before they had even gotten in the door, Vanessa was pulling Fenton towards the bedroom.

"He’s in here. I tried to talk to him. I tried to hold him but if I get close to him he goes nuts."

Entering the bedroom, Fenton could hear his son crying.

"In there." Vanessa said quietly, pointing to the bathroom. She and Laura stood and watched as Fenton disappeared into the bathroom. Vanessa turned her attention back to Laura.

"Please, tell me…was he…molested?" she asked, afraid of what the answer would be. She couldn’t bear to think of someone she loved so deeply having to experience the same terror and agony she had just a few short weeks ago.

"No, honey, he wasn’t." Laura shook her head.

Vanessa was relieved, but still confused. If that wasn’t it, what could possibly be causing Joe to react like this? She shuddered remembering how Joe had told her he’d started dreaming about children being abused and molested. He told her he honestly thought he was starting to lose his mind. At the time that seemed ridiculous to her, but now it appeared to be the only thing that made any sense.

Another heart breaking cry from Joe caused both women to jump slightly.

"Why don’t we go into the living room and I’ll explain everything." Laura said glancing at the closed bathroom door.

Vanessa nodded and followed her out of the bedroom.

Cautiously, Fenton entered the bathroom closing the door behind him. He kneeled on the floor in front of his son, realizing he was about to relive that day from seventeen years ago. The scene before his eyes was exactly as it was then. Joe sat on the floor, huddled in a corner, crying uncontrollably.

"Joe." He said softly. "It’s ok now. Daddy’s here."

Joe looked up at his father, seeing him through the eyes of the six-year-old boy who had witnessed the horrors first hand so many years ago. Just as he had done all those years ago, Joe leapt into his father's arms. He was once again that little boy who had been taken from his family and forced to watch abuses no one, child or adult, should ever have to see.

"Daddy! Take me home!" he cried.

"Shh. It's ok, Joe. You are home, son. And I'm right here."

"Please, Daddy, I want to go home!" Joe clutched at his father, refusing to let go.

Fenton realized with alarm, Joe was reliving the moment he had been rescued from Tilghman. As far as Joe was concerned, he really was six years old and wanted nothing more than to be held and protected by his father.

"Don't let them hit me again, Daddy. Don't make me watch anymore." He whispered in sheer terror. "Don't let go, Daddy. Don't let go."

"It's all right, Joe. You're safe now." He said, stroking Joe's hair and patting him soothingly on the back as he had done the day he'd found Joe. "Daddy won't let anyone hurt you again."

Fenton held his son tightly, unsure of what to do. He had not expected this. He was totally unprepared and felt completely helpless. There was nothing he could do for Joe as every terrifying detail of those three days came flooding back to him with full force. Feeling utterly useless, Fenton held Joe close to him as Joe sobbed.

Tears slid down his own face as he realized even if Josh Tilghman had lived to be 100 before he died in prison it wouldn’t even scratch the surface. It would never make up for the fact that Joe and countless others who had been unwilling pawns in Tilghmans’ sick, twisted world, would be living in their own kind of prison forever.

Fenton had no idea how long he sat with Joe, trying to comfort him until the heartbreaking wails slowed to a trickle of tears, sniffles and the occasional shudder. Fenton kissed the top of his head and rested his cheek there for a minute. While he knew this was far from over, he felt a mild sense of relief that at least it was now out in the open.

"Joe?" he said softly.

He felt Joe shiver in his arms but he did not speak.

"Joe." He repeated, looking down so he could see his sons face. This time he was the one who shivered.

Over the past weeks, Fenton had played out in his mind, a hundred different scenarios of just how Joe might react to remembering those awful days. In his worst nightmare he never even considered this one.

"No!" Fenton cried out, tears returning to his eyes. "Not this! Please don’t let it end like this! Hasn't he been hurt enough already?!"

"Joe, talk to me." Fenton hugged him tightly. "Please, talk to me."

Joe stared blankly out into space, seeing nothing in the present but everything from the past.

"Joe, please!" Fenton shook him roughly. "Say something. Anything!"

"Dead." It was barely a whisper. Fenton was sure he had misunderstood.

"What? What did you say, Joe?"

"Dead." Joe whispered again. "Daddy is dead."

"No, I’m not dead!" Fenton shook Joe again. "I’m right here! Look at me!"

"Mommy is dead." Joe said in the same whisper. "They’re never coming back."

"Oh, my God." Fenton closed his eyes, remembering what Joe had told him about the first dream. "Those bastards told you we were dead. They said we were never coming back for you."

"He never came."

"Yes, Joe. I did come. I came for you." Fenton said, hoping Joe would remember the day he was rescued.

"He promised…but he never came."

‘Who promised?’ Fenton realized Joe was no longer talking about his daddy.

"He never came." Joe repeated. Hugging his knees, Joe slowly rocked back and forth, blue eyes staring vacantly at the wall in front of him.

Fenton Hardy watched and listened. Now trapped in his own world, Joe rocked back and forth repeating the same three words over and over…

"He never came. He never came. He never came."

With a shattered heart and tears flowing freely, Fenton Hardy stood up and pulled out his cell phone. With shaking hands he pressed the numbers 9-1-1.

Fenton Hardy watched helplessly as the EMT cautiously approached his son. Joe hadn't moved from the spot where he sat on the bathroom floor since Fenton had called 911. Joe continued staring at the same spot on the wall, the vacant look never leaving his eyes. Rocking back and forth he quietly repeated the same three words over and over again, "He never came."

"What are you doing?" Fenton asked in alarm as the EMT pulled out a syringe and began filling it with a clear liquid.

"Sedative." He said simply.

"Why? Look at him! He doesn't need a sedative."

The sandy haired young man looked at Fenton sympathetically. He hated these calls. There was never anything he could say to calm the families. At least with physical injuries he had a good idea what he was dealing with. He could give the family some idea of how serious things were and offer comfort and support. Injuries to the psyche made that impossible. Sometimes the victims recovered; sometimes they were lost forever.

"It's for protection." He replied to Fenton's query, eyeing Joe's muscular frame. "Ours and his. Sometimes when we start to get them ready for transport, they get violent."

"Joe." Fenton said quietly, looking at his son. "His name is Joe."

"Joe." The EMT repeated. "He's obviously in pretty good shape. If he comes around or gets scared - feels threatened in any way - he could easily do some real damage to us. This way we don’t have to worry about anyone getting hurt. Joe or us. It's standard procedure." He tried to reassure the worried father.

"Excuse me." A young woman said as she entered the bathroom, rolling a stretcher in behind her.

As Fenton moved to the doorway, she turned to him. "Someone will need to follow us to the hospital. To complete the admittance forms and answer any questions the staff has. But you won't be able to stay with him, so it's best if only one of you comes. Whoever is legally responsible for making decisions for him."

"Which hospital are you taking him to?" Fenton asked.

"Campbell Psychiatric Center." She replied. She heard Fenton gasp and looked up at him. "You said he had a breakdown brought on when he suddenly remembered some type of trauma that he had been suppressing since childhood, correct?"

Fenton nodded.

"If we take him to Bayport General they'll just transfer him to the Campbell Center." She explained, apparently used to the surprised reaction.

"I understand." Fenton said quietly. Seeing the sedative Joe had been given was starting to take effect, he stepped into the bedroom where he saw Laura and Vanessa holding each other, waiting for some explanation as to what was happening.

Fenton took a deep breath and related what the EMT's had told him.

"I'll go to the hospital and get him admitted." He said.

Looking at Vanessa, his heart went out to her. It was obvious she did not want to be separated from Joe, but Fenton knew there would be nothing she could do at the hospital. They wouldn't let her see him and since they were not yet married she wouldn’t be allowed to make any decisions regarding Joe's care. He also knew she would be terrified if left alone in their apartment. Catching Laura's eye, he glanced at Vanessa and then back at his wife. Understanding exactly what her husband meant, Laura turned to Vanessa.

"Why don't you pack a bag and come home with me?" She said gently. "You can stay in Joe's room. I'd really rather not go home alone."

Vanessa smiled at her gratefully, trying to keep her tears at bay. "Thank you." She whispered.

At that moment, the EMT's wheeled the stretcher out, Joe securely strapped in. His eyes were closed and he appeared to be sleeping peacefully.

They stopped as Vanessa approached the stretcher. Leaning down, she kissed Joe softly. "I love you, Baby. I'll come see you as soon as they let me." She rested her forehead against his for a moment, then quickly turned away, blinking rapidly, trying to hold back the tears.

"I'll wait for you in the living room." Laura said softly. She turned and followed her husband out of the room, closing the door behind her.