"JOE!" Frank sat up, looking around anxiously for his brother.

Realizing it was a dream, Frank leaned back against the headboard, rubbing a hand across his face and found his cheeks were wet with tears. His heart was racing and he was breathing hard, but worst of all he could still hear Joe screaming as he was engulfed in flames.

Climbing out of bed, Frank found he was a little unsteady on his feet and wished he were one of those people who never remembered their dreams. Checking his watch he saw it was four thirty and headed for the bathroom. Callie would be arriving in thirty minutes to drive he and Fenton back to the hospital and Frank wanted to grab a quick shower before he left.

Fifteen minutes later, Frank walked down the hall to the tiny living room/dining room/ kitchen area of the suite his father had rented. As he stood surveying the room, he was once again left in awe at his father’s ability to see to the smallest detail even under the most stressful conditions. When Fenton had made the hotel reservations he had been up for close to forty-eight hours straight and Joe was still in the operating room. At that point they weren’t even sure Joe would make it out of the O.R. alive.

Yet Fenton thought to rent a suite – a small apartment with four bedrooms off the main living area – instead of separate hotel rooms. Foremost in his mind was the knowledge that Vanessa would never be able to close her eyes to sleep alone in a strange hotel room. The suite would allow her privacy when she needed it and the security of knowing those she loved were just outside the bedroom door. Fenton had not wanted his family to be separated by common hallways and locked doors when they would in fact need to be close to each other for comfort and support.

Frank walked into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator, expecting to find it empty. To his surprise, he saw it had been fully stocked with a wide variety of food and drinks. Retrieving an apple and a bottle of water, he took a seat at the table and waited for Callie to arrive. As he took a swig of the water, Sydney Greene’s voice came out of nowhere to torment him.

Frank replaced the cap on the small, plastic bottle, no longer thirsty. Looking up he saw his father emerge from one of the bedrooms in the opposite hallway with a cell phone to his ear, looking only slightly refreshed.

"Yes, that is good news. Thanks, Carlos. Keep me posted. Bye."

Fenton sat down opposite his son and smiled. "Finally some good news. Given their employer and easy access to transportation out of the country via private jet, the judge refused to even consider bail for Rashman and Malick."

"Thank God." Frank exhaled loudly, secure in the knowledge that his brother was truly safe from these men for the foreseeable future. "There weren’t any other calls were there?" He asked a bit hesitantly.

"No." His father reassured him. "Joe’s condition hasn’t changed. He’s still holding his own."

"Good. Did you get any sleep?" Frank asked, realizing he would never even have heard his father moving around the suite. He had fallen into a deep sleep the moment his head hit the pillow and hadn’t moved until he was rudely awakened by the nightmare about Joe.

"About three hours."

"That’s all?"

"Yes." Fenton chuckled. "But don’t tell your mother."

"Couldn’t you sleep any more?"

Fenton thought for a moment before answering. "I’m sure I could have but I wanted to get caught up on some things."

Leaning forward, Frank propped an elbow on the table and rested his chin in his hand as a silent invitation for his father to continue.

"I checked in with Sam at home. We kind of left him hanging when we took off without any warning, but he’s got everything under control. The police brought an evidence collection team to the restroom where Joe hid the file and swept it for evidence. A long shot, I know, since it had been cleaned several times by then."

"Did they find anything?"

"Nothing in the restroom but they also interviewed several airport employees who were working at the time Joe was taken and struck pay dirt."

"Really?" Frank perked up considerably.

"There’s a foreign currency exchange kiosk a little ways down from the restroom. The young woman who was working that night noticed Joe immediately when he walked by to go to the restroom." Fenton stopped and smiled at the mesmerizing effect his youngest son could have on some women simply by walking past them. "She saw him go into the restroom and then saw Rashman go in right after him. She had a customer and when she looked up again she saw Rashman and Malick coming out of the restroom supporting Joe between them."

"So that blows their story about Joe getting drunk at the bar right out of the water!" Frank said excitedly.

"Exactly."

"But if she saw someone being dragged through the airport, unconscious, why didn’t she try to help or call security." Frank asked, getting angry.

"She did. She approached them and Rashman told her they were airport security working undercover. He gave her a story about Joe being a courier for a large drug cartel. He said when they cornered Joe in the restroom he tried to escape and they had to use ‘necessary force’ to subdue him."

"And she fell for it."

"Hook, line and sinker."

"Rashman sure thinks quick on his feet, huh?" Frank commented.

"Yes, but it’ll come back to bite him. A few other people tried to get involved thinking Joe was in trouble and he gave them all the same story. But he told the real security guard a completely different story – obviously out of necessity. With all those witnesses and Rashman’s conflicting stories it’ll be easy for a jury to believe Joe’s version of what happened in the restroom."

Hearing a noise at the door, Frank and Fenton looked up and saw Callie enter carrying a bag, which Frank could tell contained Chinese food simply by inhaling. Before they could protest wasting time eating, Callie held up a hand.

"Laura’s orders. I’m not allowed to let you leave this room until you eat." She said placing the bag on the table and leaning down to give Frank a kiss on the cheek. Straightening up, she moved to the kitchen for plates and silverware.

"How’s Joe?" Frank asked as he watched his wife move about the kitchen.

"Still the same. I sat with him while Vanessa and Laura went to get something to eat, but they stayed with him all afternoon." She replied. "They’re still enforcing that only two people in the room at a time rule so…" Her voice trailed off as she shrugged her shoulders.

"You mean you actually got Vanessa to leave for a little while?" Fenton asked, impressed.

"Believe me it was like pulling teeth." Callie said, placing a plate in front of him, another in front of Frank and one on the table for herself. She sat down and began pulling cartons out of the bag and passing them around. "I finally convinced her Joe would be extremely upset if he knew she wasn’t eating just to sit and watch him laying in a hospital bed."

Leaning in, Frank kissed her on the cheek. "Thanks, Babe."

"For what?" she asked, puzzled.

"For taking care of us. All of us." He smiled at her, now realizing she was the one who had stocked the refrigerator while Laura and Vanessa were with Joe.

They quickly finished eating in silence and returned to the hospital to begin their evening vigil.

*****

"Hey, little brother. I’m back." Frank reached out, touching Joe’s right hand lightly, desperately needing that physical connection. "Sorry I had to leave but Mom insisted that Dad and I go to the hotel and get some sleep. You know how she is when she gets in one of those moods. You’re the only one who can sweet talk her out of whatever it is she wants you to do."

Frank’s eyes were drawn to the bruises that completely encircled Joe’s neck and noticed they were now turning a deep purple. The accompanying bruise on his wrist was a matching shade of the same color. Out of nowhere Frank heard Joe’s voice, loud and clear.

"Frank, please! Don’t let them do this to me!"

Frank tried to block it out, actually covering his ears with his hands, but Joe’s voice refused to leave him alone.

"I’m sorry, Joe." Frank whispered. "I’m sorry I wasn’t there to stop them."

The steady, rhythmic whooshing of the ventilator caught his attention and Frank found that his totally irrational anger at the machine was stronger than ever. He hated the very presence of that machine as it reminded him Joe simply wasn’t strong enough to breathe on his own. Somehow, Frank had become fixated on Joe breathing for himself, as if that one small accomplishment would guarantee a quick and complete recovery.

Hearing the door open, Frank turned and saw Vanessa enter the room. Standing up, he held his arms out and, as she had done earlier that day, Vanessa allowed herself to find comfort in his embrace. Resting her head on his shoulder, she looked at Joe, her heart breaking.

"Why, Frank?" She asked quietly. "Why did they do this to him?"

Frank stiffened. He knew his father had been vague in his phone calls, saying only that Joe had been kidnapped and injured without going into the ugly details.

Pulling away, Vanessa looked him in the eye. "I want to know, Frank. Why? Was it their sick idea of a good time? Or did they have a specific reason for it."

"What difference does it make, Van?" Frank answered with a question of his own. "It’s done. Knowing why won’t change it."

"I need to know, Frank." She said with quiet resolve. "If I’m going to be there for him while he recovers from this – and I AM going to be there – I have to know what to expect." She glanced at Joe again before looking back at Frank. "He had to be scared to death. I can’t help him if I don’t understand what he’s going through."

Studying Vanessa, Frank saw the determination in her eyes. He knew Joe would want her to be protected from the horrible details of his ordeal, but she had a valid point. Joe was going to need a lot of support and she would be the one closest to him while he recovered. Although he still felt she didn’t need to know every single detail, Frank agreed that Vanessa would need to know more than she did right now to help Joe through the aftermath of all this.

Feeling both a sense of relief and dread Frank realized even he didn’t know everything Joe had suffered through while he had been held captive. Relieved that he wouldn’t have to lie to Vanessa by holding back the truth, Frank also dreaded the fact that all the things he did know probably didn’t even begin to scratch the surface of what Joe had been forced to endure.