Dear Dad,

My plans are almost complete. As always, I will practice until I am confident in my ability to perform flawlessly when I go after our intended targets. Very soon, Dad, our revenge will be complete and I will be joining you.

Your loving son, Chris"

Skipping a few pages, Frank read another entry and his heart caught in his throat.

"12/26/01

Dear Dad,

I saw him yesterday, celebrating Christmas with his family…his fiancé…his FATHER! I can barely remember the last Christmas I spent with you, Dad, yet he gets to spend every holiday with his father. He spends every day with his father working side by side, just like we should be doing. It’s not fair, Dad. But he will pay. He will pay for taking you away from me. For destroying our bond. For destroying our family. By the time I have finished with him, his father won’t be able to stand the sight of him.

I miss you, Dad. I miss you.

Your loving son, Chris"

Frank wanted to stop right there but he hadn’t found the entry he was looking for, the one he so desperately needed. With a heavy heart, he continued reading…

"1/1/02

Happy New Year, Dad

He rang in the New Year with his brother, his sister-in-law and his beloved fiancé. The fiancé who will be mine very soon. They looked so happy last night, so hopelessly in love. It won’t last. I will destroy it. I will destroy everything that is precious to him, everything he loves.

Very soon his father, his brother, his fiancé, everyone who loves him now, will look at him with nothing but contempt, disgust and hatred. He will pay.

Your loving son, Chris"

Reading further Frank came upon the entry dated the day after Vanessa had been raped and felt his stomach rebel as he skimmed the words.

‘You don’t have to read every entry.’ Frank told himself quickly looking away from the journal in his hands. ‘Stop torturing yourself. Just find the one you need.’

Flipping to the last entry in the journal, dated the day Chris Taylor died, he began to read…

"Dear Dad,

I’ve had to make a few adjustments. Missing out on his mother last week put me behind schedule but my plan will still succeed. It has already yielded results beyond what I’d hoped for. His fiancé is so traumatized she refuses to leave their apartment. If only she knew I haven’t finished with her yet. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

Tonight, I will have his mother. When his father receives the note I will send later this evening, he will want to kill his precious son with his bare hands. The same son he should have left with you so long ago. Next week, his sister-in-law. Once she is found, the brother he worships will turn on him with rage and fury.

And the following week, the culmination of all my planning. His fiancé is traumatized now, but when I finish with her – forcing him to watch every second – she will be beyond help. Given his volatile temper, I’m sure it won’t take much to goad him into killing me. However, should he somehow remain in control rest assured I will still achieve my goal.

Should he refuse to pull the trigger, preferring to see me incarcerated, I will do it myself. Suicide is not the sin so many believe it to be. It can’t be if it will bring me back to you, Dad. Regardless of who pulls the trigger, he will be left to take the blame. Once he is convicted of my ‘murder’, he will spend the rest of his life in prison. His father may have rescued him all those years ago, but there will be no one who wants to rescue him now. Joe Hardy will finally get what you had intended for him all along, with no one to save him.

Then my revenge will be complete and I will join you, Dad. Soon, Dad, very soon.

Your loving son, Chris"

Closing the journal, unable to look at it anymore, Frank’s vision blurred as the tears dropped onto the plastic cover. ‘Mom? Callie? Oh, God, poor Vanessa.’

"Dad." Frank said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I found it."

Frank arrived at the Campbell Center early in the evening. There were still several boxes and file cabinets to be searched but the truth of the matter was, Frank could no longer stomach it. He had found the journal Angela Taylor had told him about and knew that was more than enough to guarantee a not guilty verdict for Joe. The journal entries were bad, though, and Frank prayed it wouldn’t be necessary for any of them to be read aloud in open court. He felt sick to his stomach as he recalled what horrors Taylor still had planned for his family and thanked God he never got the chance to carry them out.

As the day had worn on, Frank found himself becoming depressed at the sheer volume of information Chris Taylor had amassed on Joe. By now, they all knew how much Taylor had hated Joe, but none of them were prepared for the depth or venom of the hatred this man really had, or the lengths he was willing to go to, to extract the revenge he so desperately wanted.

Frank had seen his father wiping at his eyes more than once and he himself was stunned that anyone could hate his brother to such a degree. In fact, he couldn’t fathom how anyone could hate his kind, caring, good-hearted, fun-loving brother at all. Not for the first time, Frank shook his head and wondered how life could be so unfair. Chris Taylor was dead, with no more cares or worries while his victims were left behind to try to cope with the mess he had made of their lives. Why were the victims the ones who always seemed to end up paying the price?

Arriving at his brother’s room, Frank pushed the door open and very quietly stepped inside just in case Joe was sleeping. Joe seemed to be doing a lot of that lately – sleeping the day away. Initially, Frank had been worried about it as that was so unlike his brother who seemed to be in constant motion, and questioned Dr. Fitzwater about it. The doctor had told him there was no need to be concerned as people who were severely depressed, as Joe was, quite often slept a good deal more than the average person. While Frank was relieved to hear Joe’s new sleeping habits were "normal" given the circumstances, he was also incensed. Frank was bitterly angry that his brother who had always been so happy and carefree couldn’t even seem to find one reason to smile anymore. Joe had felt incredible guilt over Iola’s death, but up until Vanessa had been raped, Frank would have bet his life that Joe didn’t even know what depression felt like. Now it controlled his every waking moment. Frank suddenly understood why his brother would prefer to sleep most of the time than be faced with the thoughts that must be haunting him every minute of the day.

Standing just inside the room, Frank looked at Joe and Vanessa curled up in each others arms. At first, he thought they were sleeping until he saw Joe gently rub Vanessa’s arm bringing an almost imperceptible smile to her lips. They were apparently each lost in their own thoughts, yet found comfort in the other’s touch.

"Hey, little brother." Frank said, quietly.

Immediately, Joe opened his eyes and looked at Frank. "Hey." He replied.

Hearing Frank’s voice, Vanessa opened her eyes and pushed herself up to a sitting position. "Hi, Frank." She smiled at him.

"Hi, Van. So how are you guys doing?" Frank asked pulling up a chair.

"Us? We’re great." Joe said, unsmiling, his voice laced with sarcasm.

Glancing from Joe to Frank, Vanessa shrugged almost apologetically.

"So did you find anything?" Joe asked, finally sitting up. He knew about the storage unit and the search warrant and had feared when they opened it up, it would be empty. The simple fact that it had taken Frank all day to finally make an appearance in his room offered Joe some hope that there might actually be something in the storage unit that could be used in his favor.

"Actually, yes." Frank began, thrilled to be able to give Joe some good news for once. "We found Taylor’s journal and…" Frank immediately clamped his mouth shut as Joe shot him a sharp look.

At the mention of Taylor’s name, Vanessa had visibly tensed and now had a faraway look in her eyes. Joe spoke to her in a low, soothing voice.

"I’m right here, Van. Frank is here, too. You’re completely safe with us." Joe stopped and waited, trying to gauge how much Vanessa had heard and digested. When he saw her blink a few times, he offered her his hand. "It’s ok, Babe. You’re safe."

Taking Joe’s hand and holding it tightly, Vanessa let out a shaky breath.

"Sorry." She whispered, wiping away a lone tear. "What were you saying?" she asked Frank.

Stunned, Frank didn’t quite know how to respond. He hadn’t really thought much about what went on when Joe and Vanessa were alone. She had always seemed so strong and together whenever Frank had seen her lately, he didn’t realize she probably let out all her fears when she was alone with Joe. And knowing his brother, Frank was absolutely certain Joe would try to shoulder Vanessa’s demons as well as his own. Sitting there staring at his younger brother, Frank wondered how Joe had been able to hold it together as long as he did before finally breaking down.

Frank mentally kicked himself as he understood just the mention of Taylor’s name had almost resulted in a terrifying flashback for Vanessa. Until that moment, he hadn’t truly grasped how agonizing it had to be for her to sit in court and hear Taylor’s name mentioned over and over again, day after day. His admiration for her poise and inner strength grew immeasurably.

Frantically trying to think of a way to tell Joe about what they had found without further upsetting Vanessa, Frank was saved when the door slowly opened and he heard Callie’s voice.

"Knock, knock." She said, poking her head in the room. "Oh, good, all my favorite people are here." Callie quickly walked over to Frank and kissed him, settling into his warm embrace contentedly. She knew it was necessary for him to travel all over the country the past few weeks and understood completely, but she had missed him terribly and was so glad he was now home for good.

"How are you feeling, Joe?" Callie asked.

Joe shrugged wordlessly in response then turned to Vanessa. "Would you mind leaving Frank and I alone for a few minutes? I need to talk to him."

"Sure." Vanessa replied quietly. Kissing Joe, she got up and left the room, followed by a very puzzled Callie.

"Ok," Joe looked at his older brother. "What did you find."

"The journal Angela Taylor told me about." Frank began a bit hesitantly. He knew Joe would want to see the journal, which is why he gave it to his father. With Joe’s current mental state, Frank felt he didn’t need to know about what Chris Taylor had really planned for him.

"And…" Joe said, slightly annoyed when Frank didn’t elaborate.

"And what?"

"What did it say? Anything that can help me? Did you bring it with you?" Joe fired off the questions in quick succession.

"Dad has it. He’s taking it to Andrew tonight so he can enter it as evidence in your defense as soon as possible."

"Why didn’t you bring it?" Joe asked angrily. "I want to see it. I want to know what he said. About me. About what else he was going to do."

"It’s really…. you don’t need…" Frank stumbled over the words not wanting his brother to ever know what Taylor had intended. He may not have been able to shield Joe from Taylor up to this point, but had every intention of protecting his younger brother now. Frank was determined Joe would never find out what was written in that journal.

"What? I have a right to know what he said about me, don’t I?"

"All you need to know is that he said he wanted to die. He wanted to be reunited with his father and if he couldn’t bait you into killing him, he would commit suicide and frame you for his murder."

Joe’s eyes grew wide. "He wrote that? In the journal?"

"Yes. It’s right there in black and white. In his handwriting. There’s no way a jury can say you’re guilty now." Frank said with relief. "Looks like Taylor really was like his father. Dad said Tilghman kept such good records he just about convicted himself and his son is following right in his footsteps."

"So, I really won’t be going to prison?" Joe asked, almost afraid to believe it, even for a second. Normally upbeat and optimistic, Joe had been unable find anything positive in this situation since the night he had been arrested and charged with murder.

"I don’t see how, Joe. If you put the journal together with the ballistics report and all the character witnesses Andrew plans to call, how could anyone not have at least a reasonable doubt? I think your problems are finally starting to disappear." Frank said, trying to cheer up his brother.

"Not all of them." Joe replied quietly. Seeing the look of sorrow appear on Frank’s face, he immediately felt guilty. "Frank, I’m sorry. You promised you’d find something to clear me and you kept your word. Just like you always do." Joe managed a smile. "Always bailing me out. I can thank you every day for the rest of my life and it will never be enough but…"

"It’s ok, Joe. I understand." Frank said, although that wasn’t the complete truth. He knew that no matter how hard he tried, he would never really understand what Joe was going through. All he could do was offer his brother the love and support he would need to cope with the aftermath of everything that had happened.

"Thanks." Joe responded, wondering yet again how he had been so lucky to get Frank for a brother. They sat quietly for a few moments before Joe spoke again.

"I need to know something."

"What?"

"Promise you’ll tell me the truth."

‘I HATE it when he does that!’ Frank thought. The only time Joe ever made him promise to tell the truth is when Joe was about to ask a question he knew Frank would never want to answer. "I will if I can."

"If you can?" Joe said, surprised.

"We both know this is going to be a question I really don’t want to answer so I’m not going to make any promises I can’t keep." Frank replied crossing his arms over his chest. "So go ahead and ask, but I may not answer."

"Was he really planning to go after Mom?" Joe asked quietly. Frank could see the unbearable guilt wash over his brother.

‘Mom, Callie…Vanessa, again…forcing you to watch…’ In his mind, Frank saw the disgusting plans Taylor had written about in his journal and knew he could not give Joe a straight answer.

"Do you really need to know the details, Joe? Can’t you just trust me on this? There is more than enough evidence in that journal alone to convince even the biggest idiot that you did not kill Taylor. Can’t we just leave it at that?"

"That bad?" Joe asked in a haunted voice.

"Yeah, little brother, it was that bad." Frank replied squeezing Joe’s shoulder. "So how did therapy go today?" Frank asked, desperate to change the subject.

"Well, if the goal is to make me end up feeling miserable and lower than pond scum, it went pretty well."

"Are you going to keep it up?" Frank asked hesitantly. He was well aware Joe had completed two therapy sessions simply because he promised Frank he would. Frank had been praying Joe would get enough out of them to want to continue on his own.

"Don’t have much choice if I want to get out of this place." Joe replied, with contempt.

Frank’s heart sank. If Joe continued with therapy because he felt like he had been forced into it and not because he wanted to, he wouldn’t get much out of it at all.

"And I guess it’ll help…eventually." He added grudgingly. "Just don’t tell Dad I said that. I’m not up for any of his ‘I told you so’ speeches."

Frank sighed inwardly, relieved Joe was at least willing to give therapy a chance. He was, however, very concerned about Joe’s attitude towards their father.

"Can’t you ease up on him just a little bit, Joe?" Frank pressed. "This is killing him too, you know."

"Then why did he lie to me, Frank?" Joe asked, heartbroken. "It was only a few weeks ago that he begged me to forgive him for thinking I really killed Taylor. He promised he’d always believe in me. Then I found out he’s been lying to me for God knows how long. How am I ever supposed to trust him again?" Joe wiped at his eyes, hating the fact this subject could bring him to tears.

"He did exactly what the doctors told him to do, Joe. I’m not saying he was right or wrong. I’m just saying he didn’t know what to do and trusted that the experts knew best. Don’t hold it against Dad if they were wrong in this particular case. He didn’t want to lie to you, but he was told that was what he had to do."

"That doesn’t make it hurt any less!" Joe cried out. "I thought I was losing my mind, Frank! I thought I was going crazy! Do you get that? And he just stood by and let it happen! How could he watch me go through that without even trying to stop it? And then claim he still loves me?!" Unable to hold them back any longer, Joe finally broke down in tears.

Sighing, Frank sat down on the bed next to Joe, rubbing his back reassuringly until Joe finally cried himself out.

"Joe, if you could have heard his voice the day he called and told me to come home…if you could have seen how devastated he was when you were first admitted here…if you could see the look in his eyes when he talks about the day he finally found you…. well, there would be no doubt in your mind at all as to how much he really loves you."

Joe looked up at Frank, surprised at how candid he was.

"I know sometimes he seems to come down hard on you, but you’re his baby, Joe. Always have been, always will be." Seeing he had Joe thinking maybe he had been just a little hard on their father, Frank decided to take a calculated risk. "I know I’m taking a chance telling you this, but I think you need to hear it. Just so you know what lengths Dad will go to for you."

His curiosity getting the better of him, Joe looked at his brother, intrigued. "What? Whatever it is stays between us."

"Promise?" Frank asked.

"Promise." Joe said holding up his right index finger. Frank laughed and pressed his finger against Joe’s.

"Ok, but don’t you dare tell Dad I told you this. Don’t tell anyone."

"I won’t, I won’t." Joe replied impatiently.

"Tilghman taped everything he made those kids do." Frank said, soberly. "Even though Dad took you to the hospital and the doctors told him they hadn’t touched you…" Frank swallowed hard, recalling the look on his fathers face when his mother had told him this story. "…he had to be absolutely sure. So, he got all the videos that were taken during the time Tilghman had you and watched them. If Tilghman had forced you to do anything other than watch, it would have been on the videos and Dad would have seen it."

Looking at Joe, Frank suddenly wondered if he had gone too far. Joe was shaking and was white as a sheet.

"You mean Dad watched…he saw…" Joe could barely get the words out. "He saw the same things I saw? And he did it…voluntarily?"

"Mm-hmm." Frank nodded.

"Oh, my God…" Joe whispered. "I can’t believe he would do that. Sit through that. Watch that. Just for me."

"Why wouldn’t he?" Frank asked, somewhat surprised. "He loves you."

"Oh, God. The way I’ve been treating him. Oh, man, he’ll never forgive me." Joe said, full of remorse at the things he’d said about, and to, his father.

"Of course he will, Joe." Frank smiled at him. "You’re his baby. He’d let you get away with murder."

Joe groaned and then smiled. "That was bad, Frank. Really, really bad."

"Yeah, but at least it made you smile."

Suddenly, the door opened and Callie appeared in the doorway. Instead of coming in, she held the door open, giggling uncontrollably, throwing furtive glances up and down the hall.

"What’s she doing?" Frank asked, puzzled.

"How do I know? She’s your wife!" Joe replied, his curiosity now peaked.

"Hurry up!" Callie whispered loudly, furiously waving her arms. All of a sudden, Chet Morton and Liz Webling ran through the door of Joe’s room, juggling the paper bags held in their arms, and quickly made their way into the bathroom, as if they were hiding from someone.

"Where’s Vanessa?" Joe asked, wondering what was going on.

"She’s the lookout!" Callie said as if Joe should have known.

"Lookout?" Frank repeated, now thoroughly confused.

"Now!" Callie whispered again.

This time Tony Prito, Biff Hooper and Phil Cohen raced through the door, each carrying three large pizza boxes, with Vanessa bringing up the rear. Vanessa pushed Tony, Biff and Phil towards the bathroom.

"Hurry up! Nurse Ratchet is coming!!" she giggled, joining them in the bathroom and pulling the door shut behind her.

The second the bathroom door closed, the door to the room opened once again and a stern looking, gray haired nurse entered. Hands on her hips, she stood surveying the room carefully. Unable to find anyone other than Frank, Joe and Callie in the room, she walked towards the closed bathroom door.

"My fiancé is in there!" Joe called out quickly.

The nurse turned and stared at him for a moment. "You know the rules. Only three visitors at a time." She said, sternly.

"Yes, ma’am. I know the rules. Only three visitors at a time." Joe repeated back to her.

With one last glance around the room, she left.

Clapping her hands gleefully like a child, Callie opened the bathroom door to release the ‘captives’ who were huddled inside.

"Man, that’s a small bathroom!" Biff complained good-naturedly.

"I’ll say." Chet seconded. "Let’s get those pizza’s opened, huh?"

Everyone began clearing tables, opening sodas and pizza boxes and distributing napkins and paper plates.

"Uh, excuse me." Joe spoke up. All movement stopped as all eyes turned to look at him. "Not that I don’t appreciate the company, but what’s going on?"

Vanessa bounced down on the bed beside him and impulsively kissed him. "It’s a pizza party, silly!" she laughed.

"A pizza party in a psychiatric hospital?" Joe asked looking around at his friends.

"Yeah. Biff and Tony thought of it!"

Joe looked at his brother and grinned wryly. "It’s probably the sanest thing I’ve done in the last two months. Let’s eat!"