Frank knelt on the ground beside his father, his eyes scanning the yard beyond them, almost afraid to hope. ‘If Dad made it out…’ 

Several EMT’s & firefighters arrived with Sam right on their heels.  Frank stepped out of the way of the emergency workers and stood next to Sam who, after a brief glance down at Fenton, was also gazing out over the yard.  “Dad couldn’t have walked out on his own,” Frank murmured.

“He’s gotta be here somewhere,” Sam agreed.  The words had barely left his lips when he grabbed Frank’s arm and pointed excitedly.  “There!  He’s over there!” he cried out, and took off at a run to where Joe lay motionless on the ground.

Frank reached down and tugged at the jacket of one of the EMT’s.  “We need one of you over here!”  Not waiting to see if the man followed, Frank practically flew across the yard.  Skidding to a stop next to Sam, he dropped to his knees and looked at Joe anxiously.

“His pulse is strong,” Sam assured him, “but he’s got a nasty gash on his head.”

“Here, let me take a look.” The EMT Frank had summoned, gently but firmly pushed him and Sam aside. 

Frank took a few steps back, his eyes darting uncertainly between Joe and Fenton.  The terror at the thought that they had both been killed still lingered, and he didn’t want to take his eyes off either one of them, fearing when he looked back they’d be gone.  And then he felt Sam’s hand on his shoulder, squeezing reassuringly.

“You stay here with Joe.  I’ll go check on your Dad.”

Frank looked at him and smiled, gratefully.  “Thanks.”  He carefully stepped around his brother and the man tending to him, and sat cross-legged on the ground on the other side of Joe.  “How is he?” Frank asked, worriedly.

“He got whacked on the head with something.  Looks like it’ll need a couple stitches,” the EMT replied, as he pressed a gauze pad to Joe’s head.  Glancing around, he frowned and then looked back at Frank.  “Can you give me a hand here?”

“Sure!” Frank replied, glad to do something besides sit and worry.

“Get a pair of gloves out of my case, then hold this firmly in place,” he indicated the gauze pad, partially stained blood red.  “We need to get the bleeding under control, but I want to check him for other injuries.”

Frank donned the latex gloves and quickly moved back to Joe’s other side.  When he pressed down on wound, Joe moaned slightly.

“Sorry, bro,” Frank mumbled.

“Don’t worry, that’s a good sign.  It means he’s starting to come around,” the EMT assured him.  “He’s your brother?” he asked, as he methodically began checking Joe for other injuries, smiling when Frank nodded affirmatively.

“Older or younger?”

“He’s a year younger than me.”

“You’re lucky you only got one,” he grinned.  “I got three of ‘em!”

“You have my sympathies,” Frank chuckled, wondering what it would have been like to grow up with three of Joe, and quickly dismissed the thought.  ‘That’s too scary to even contemplate!’  Raised voices caused him to look up, and his eyes widened in disbelief.  Using Sam for leverage, Fenton was defiantly pulling himself to a standing position, against the advice of both Sam and the obviously annoyed EMT’s who were trying to treat him.  With more than a little assistance from Sam, Fenton hobbled towards them.  Despite his unsteady gait, his eyes were locked firmly on Joe.

“Dad, what are you doing? Are you crazy?!” Frank cried out, when they got within hearing range.

“That’s what I said,” Sam said, straining to hold Fenton up the last few steps.  Awkwardly, he lowered Fenton to the ground next to Joe and then looked at Frank.  “I tried to stop him,” he said apologetically, “but he insisted he had to see Joe.  Said he’d crawl over here by himself if I didn’t help him.  Too damn stubborn for his own good,” Sam finished, casting an irritated glance at his friend.

“How is he?  Will he be okay?  Is that cut on his head serious?” Fenton interrogated the EMT working on Joe.

The young man glanced at Frank, slightly amused.  “He’ll probably need stitches to close that gash.  And with any head injury there’s the chance of concussion.  Other than that it looks like he has some bruises and a few minor burns.  They’ll do a more thorough exam at the hospital but it doesn’t look too bad.”

At the word hospital, Joe groaned and moved his head slightly.

“Joe?  Can you hear me, Joe?  Open your eyes,” Frank demanded.

“Oooh…” Joe moaned again.  His eyelids fluttered a few times and finally opened. Dazed blue eyes looked around in confusion, then locked on Fenton and Frank.  “Feel like I was hit by a truck,” Joe mumbled.

“Close,” Frank grinned, relieved to hear Joe cracking jokes.  “It was a house.”

“Huh?” Joe blinked, bewildered.  “I got hit by a house?”

“Ellison’s house exploded,” Fenton explained, relief washing over him that Joe seemed to be alert and cognizant of his surroundings, for the most part.

Joe stared at his father for a moment, trying to recall what had happened and finally giving up, deciding it wasn’t worth the effort.  “Man, I hate when that happens.”

Fenton laughed and squeezed his son’s shoulder.  “So do I, Joe, so do I.”

*****

“OW!” Joe yelped as the nurse placed a small bandage over the stitches behind his right ear.

“You didn’t make a sound while it was being stitched up,” she laughed softly.  “Now it hurts?”

“Delayed reaction,” Joe grumbled, gently probing the area around the bandage.  “How many?”

“Six,” she replied.  “Now let me go see about getting you admitted.”

“Uh-uh, no way,” Joe shook his head adamantly, then grimaced. ‘Not a good idea, Hardy!’  he admonished himself as the sudden movement caused the throbbing in his head to increase dramatically.  “I’m not staying.  You stitched me up good as new; now I’m leaving.  See?  This is me leaving…”  Gingerly, Joe slid off the bed, trying to keep one hand inconspicuously on the rail for balance, just in case.

The nurse stood with her arms crossed over her chest and watched in amusement.  “Now let go of the rail – and try not to fall over.”

Just then Dr. Pinkston, the emergency room physician who had stitched up Joe’s wound, appeared in the doorway with Frank right behind him.  “What’s this – Simon Says?” the physician asked, bemused.

“No, it’s a hostage situation,” Joe replied, glaring at the nurse.  “I’m ready to leave and she won’t let me.”

“She’s only following orders from the head hostage taker,” he responded, half hiding a smile.

“That would be you?”

“Mmm-hmm.  As I was just explaining to your brother here, I’d like to keep you overnight, just for observation.”

“And I’d like to hit the lottery, but that ain’t gonna happen either,” Joe retorted irritably.  After a sharp look from Frank, he mumbled a half-hearted apology.

“Joe, you sustained a head injury and you were unconscious for several minutes,” Dr. Pinkston said patiently.  “While you aren’t showing any signs of concussion right now, they could develop later on. And even though those burns really aren’t any worse than a nasty sunburn,” he continued, nodding at a few spots on Joe’s hand and forearms where he’d been pelted with burning debris, “given your medical history, it would be prudent for you to stay here tonight so we can keep an eye on you…just as a precaution.”

Joe stiffened for a moment, still touchy about the fact that he could no longer be quite so cavalier about his own health as he used to. “Frank can keep an eye on me,” he finally replied, throwing his brother a pleading look.  Maybe for once he could use Frank’s ‘mother-hen’ complex to his own advantage. “He’s an expert at it, he’s been doing it his whole life!” 

“If the doctor thinks you should stay overnight for observation-” Frank started to reply, unable to finish as Joe cut him off.

“But you know exactly what to look for!” Joe pressed insistently, then turned back to the doctor.  “He really does!  This isn’t the first time I got whacked in the head and he had to play nursemaid for me.”

“That doesn’t really work in your favor,” the nurse pointed out, grinning.

“Tell them, Frank!  Go on, tell them!” Joe begged, pulling out his best wounded puppy dog look.

Frank rolled his eyes in exasperation, and apparent defeat.  He kept his eyes on Joe but addressed the doctor.  “Nausea, inability to concentrate, dilated pupils, confusion… then again he’s always confused,” Frank smirked.  “Oh…and I get to wake him up every few hours to make sure he hasn’t lapsed into a coma, right?”  Eyeing his brother, Frank rubbed his chin thoughtfully.  “Actually, I think I might enjoy this.”

“See, he’s got it down pat,” Joe said, inching towards the doorway.  “No need for me to stay and take up a bed when there’s nothing wrong with me.”

Seeing he had lost, Dr. Pinkston shook his head and looked at Frank.  “If he does show any of those symptoms, get him back here immediately.”  Turning to Joe he added, “You can take some Extra-strength Tylenol for the headaches.  And call your own doctor as soon as you get home.  You’ll need an appointment to get those stitches out.”

“Yup, sure, no problem,” Joe agreed, tugging at Frank’s arm.  “Thanks!” he called out, dragging Frank out of the exam room and into the hallway.  “Whew!  Thanks, bro, I owe you.”

“Big time!” Frank griped, pulling his arm from Joe’s grasp.  “There’s no reason why you couldn’t have stayed for one night.”

“Yeah, there is – I hate hospitals!”

They emerged into the waiting area where they found Sam in conversation with a man they didn’t recognize.  As they approached, Sam smiled and waved them over.  “Joe, how are you doing?”

“Great, no problems,” Joe replied, as Frank rolled his eyes and muttered something under his breath.

“They didn’t want to keep you overnight for observation?”

“They suggested it, but Frank talked them out of it.  He assured them I’d be fine in his care,” Joe grinned.

“What?!” Frank cried out, glaring daggers at Joe. 

“Hi, Joe Hardy,” Joe introduced himself to the man Sam had been talking to, pointedly ignoring his older brother. 

“John Gainey, Phoenix P.D.,” the man replied.  Shaking hands with first Joe, then Frank, he threw Sam a look that was both amused and bewildered.

“Any word on Dad?” Joe asked as the four of them found seats in an out-of-the-way corner.

“They removed the bullet with no problem.  Luckily, it hadn’t gone too deep.  As soon as he’s in a room, they’ll let us know,” Sam related the information he’d been given by Fenton’s attending physician.  “Detective Gainey was just bringing me up to date.”  Sam sat back, and nodded at Gainey.

“We caught Caggiano, the ringleader, at the bank as planned right after Ellison handed over the money.  Sorry about what happened at the house, but we didn’t know he’d made the call to his buddies ahead of schedule.  And Ellison couldn’t get word to us until after the money was in Caggiano’s hands,” Gainey explained apologetically.  “But we were able to catch the other two eventually.  When Caggiano realized he’d been caught, he didn’t want to go down alone.  He gave us a description of the car they were driving, the address of where they were supposed to meet up, and the route the other two would have taken.”

“Good, at least you got all of them,” Frank responded.  “Any word on Kevin?” he asked, looking at Sam.

“Smoke inhalation,” Sam replied.  “They’re keeping him overnight for observation,” he added, his hazel eyes sparkling with amusement. 

“See?” Frank poked his brother in the arm a few times.  “Some people actually follow their doctor’s advice!”

“Weenies,” Joe muttered, moving over slightly so he was out of Frank’s reach.

“Not that this isn’t entertaining,” Detective Gainey smiled as he stood up, “but I’ve got several hours of reports and paperwork ahead of me.  Tell Fenton I’ll stop by tomorrow and get his statement,” he addressed Sam.  Reaching out, he shook hands with Joe and Frank once more.  “Good to meet you both.”  Waving goodbye, he disappeared into the flow of people leaving the emergency waiting area.

Joe sat in one of the chairs lining the wall and closed his eyes, tuning out the sounds around him.  He didn’t want to admit it out loud, but his head was pounding and the bright lights in the waiting room didn’t help any.  Patting his pocket absently searching for his sunglasses, he frowned.

“Oh…they’re broken.”

Frank had apparently been watching him and figured out what he was looking for.  “They pretty much got smashed when you hit the ground.”

“Damn, those were my favorite pair, too,” Joe griped.  Opening his eyes and immediately squinting to cut down on the assault of light, he glanced at Frank.  “This place have a gift shop?  Maybe I can pick up a pair there.”

“Yeah, down there,” Frank frowned as he gestured towards a hall to the left.

“Be back in a few minutes,” Joe mumbled, getting up and quickly taking off in the direction Frank indicated.  The last thing he felt like doing was negotiating his way through an interrogation by his brother about why he needed sunglasses inside. 

Finding the small shop tucked away in a corner, Joe was happy to find not only a new pair of sunglasses but a small bottle of the over-the-counter pain reliever Dr. Pinkston had recommended.  Paying for his purchases, Joe found a water fountain out in the hall and downed three of the painkillers, hoping it would dull what felt like a hundred jackhammers in his head.  Straightening up, he turned and headed back towards the waiting area.  Just outside the emergency room doors he stopped short, groaning.

‘This just isn’t my day,’ he thought.  Standing by the entrance to the waiting room and looking around uncertainly were Jeff, Carol and Kelly Cutter.  Joe glanced around, hoping there was another entrance he hadn’t noticed, allowing him to return to Sam and Frank without being spotted by the Cutters but he saw no way out.  Sighing heavily, Joe slipped on his newly purchased sunglasses and walked forward, bracing for the inevitable.

‘Maybe they won’t recognize me.  Jeff and Kelly only saw me for a minute, last time Carole saw me I was only six….I can just sneak by them….’

“Joe!”

‘Damn!’ Joe thought, eyeing the open archway to the waiting area.  They were just a few feet short of it, meaning neither Sam nor Frank would see them.  Selfishly, Joe wished they were a little closer, knowing Frank would waste no time in coming to his rescue.

Joe stopped, forcing a small smile to his face and nodded in acknowledgement of Jeff, but said nothing.  He eyed Kelly, wondering if she’d launch into another psychotic tirade, but she simply glared at him before looking away.

“Joe…”

Joe felt a shiver race down his spine at the way his name was half-whispered.  The voice was laden with emotions – concern, relief… love?  It sounded so much like his mother he was momentarily stunned.  Looking into Carole’s pale blue eyes, he felt it again.  Staring at him now, she looked so much like Laura it was scary!  He half expected her to reach out and stroke his cheek, the way his mother always did when she got her first glimpse of him after learning he’d been hurt.  But she did no such thing; she simply stared. With both she and Jeff gazing at him intently, Joe began to shift uncomfortably, suddenly feeling like a bug under a microscope. 

“Have you seen Kevin?” Joe asked, deciding making small talk with them was preferable to being openly gawked at.

“No.  We were just on our way…” Jeff replied.

“Don’t let me stop you,” Joe said, quickly stepping aside.  “I’m sure you’re anxious to see him.”  He inched towards the doorway. 

“How are you?” Jeff asked, clearly concerned.  “You’re hurt,” he said, looking at a nasty bruise forming on Joe’s cheek.

“No, I’m fine, really,” Joe quickly replied, backing away slightly.  Jeff had taken another step towards him as did Carole. He looked around nervously, feeling like a cornered animal.  He was sure their behavior was out of genuine concern but still it made him feel…trapped.  So much so that he was actually relieved to hear Kelly’s voice.

“Oh, please, stop fawning all over him.  You can see for yourself he’s fine.  Besides, I thought we came here to see Kevin.  Come on, let’s go.”  Kelly waved impatiently towards the elevators but made no move to touch her parents, or prod them in the right direction.  It was almost as if she didn’t want to advertise that she was with them.  And that’s when Joe was struck by the way the Cutters interacted.  Or rather, the way they didn’t interact – at all. 

While they stood together, there was a definite feeling of each maintaining their own personal space, without anyone else daring to encroach on it.  It was as if they would have preferred being alone, as opposed to being together as a family, even at a time like this.  They could just as easily have been three strangers who happened to be standing in close proximity to one another, as opposed to a family checking on a loved one.  Joe got the distinct impression that they rarely turned to each other for solace, comfort or reassurance, and suddenly felt very sorry for them. 

While his own family was far from perfect, they were extremely close-knit, loving, caring and totally supportive of one another.  Joe pictured his own family in a similar situation and could almost feel his father’s supportive hand on his shoulder, Frank gently rubbing his back or his mother’s reassuring hand resting on his arm.  He smiled, thinking of the way Vanessa’s gentle touch could calm his fears whenever he awoke disoriented by nightmares in the middle of the night; the way he could talk to Callie about almost anything.

“Well, I’m going to see how he’s doing.  That is what we came for,” Kelly announced.  With a final, deadly glare at Joe, she stalked to the elevator and viciously punched the button.

Jeff looked over his shoulder at Kelly and then back at Carole.  “Go ahead,” he said quietly.  “I’ll be there in a minute.”

With one last sad glance at Joe, Carole turned and joined Kelly on the elevator.  Jeff turned back to his nephew, apparently wanting to say something.

“Joe, I…I want – no…I need – to tell you…” Jeff stared at him, stammering and tripping over the words.

Joe tensed, fearing what was to come.  He flashed back to the day Fenton assured him he wouldn’t have to get even remotely involved in this investigation, thereby saving him from the confrontation he was now unable to avoid.

“I’m sorry.  I’m sorry I wasn’t watching you the way I should’ve been that day.  I’m sorry you were kidnapped,’” Jeff said, guilt layering every word.

Joe swallowed nervously, having no idea how to respond – or even if he should respond.  What could he say? “I’m sorry, too.” ? Because that was definitely how he felt.  Jeff was still rambling, and from what Joe could tell, he was apologizing for anything and everything that could have gone wrong in Joe’s life when Jeff apologized for one thing too many – and Joe saw red.

“…what happened to your fiancé….I’m so sorry.  I can’t even-”

“Don’t!” Joe hissed, taking a threatening step forward.  “Don’t ever mention that – EVER!”  It was one thing for Jeff to openly talk about what had happened to Joe, but Vanessa…that was off limits. 

Joe felt himself shaking as anger, guilt and sorrow washed over him in blinding waves.  He heard Jeff speaking again but couldn’t make out the words.  Heartbreaking memories ricocheted around in his mind, bouncing from Tilghman and the distant past to a violent, uncontrollable rage in his own apartment just one year earlier.  It was no longer Jeff’s voice he heard, but his father’s…

“They found Vanessa….I’m so sorry, Joe.  She was raped.”

This was what he so desperately wanted to avoid!  The memories he was only now learning how to control.  Hearing footsteps, Joe looked up and saw his uncle getting onto the elevator.  The doors slid closed and Jeff was gone, but the horrible memories he’d reawakened were alive and well and close to pushing Joe over the edge.  Suddenly, Joe was overwhelmed with the need to feel that comforting, protective presence only his family could provide.  Turning, he rushed back into the waiting area, anxiously seeking out his older brother.