Frank quickly walked to the waiting area at the end of the hall and took a seat. Leaning forward he stared, almost mesmerized, at his shaking hands. He thought he had prepared himself well enough but once Joe had started to fill in the details of what he’d been through, Frank found he could barely keep himself from falling apart, let alone provide any kind of support to his brother. He hoped his presence was enough for Joe. As the afternoon wore on and Joe related one abuse after another, Frank found himself consumed with guilt for not getting to Joe fast enough.

‘If only we’d found him sooner. He wouldn’t have had to go through all that. I promised him. I promised I’d always be there…and I wasn’t.’

As the images in the photographs flashed through his mind, Frank felt his stomach start to rebel again. More than once, Frank thought he was going to have to leave the room as Carlos produced picture after picture, probing for as much detail as possible. Leaning forward, Frank dropped his head and took several deep breaths, waiting for the nauseous feeling to pass, grateful he was at least able to hide his distress from his brother. He felt someone take a seat in the chair next to him and heard his father’s voice.

"Frank, are you all right?"

"Yeah, fine." Frank replied softly. He knew he was far from fine, but he would never verbalize it; not after learning every gruesome detail of what Joe had been through.

"Listen, as soon as the nurses are through changing the bandage on Joe’s arm, I want you to talk to him."

Frank sat up, noting the urgency in his father’s voice. "Ok. About what?"

Fenton shook his head, smiling sadly at his son. Frank had no idea that Joe had completely misinterpreted his actions and he was going to be devastated when he found out what Joe really thought.

"I know what you were trying to do in there, Frank, and I agree with it in principle. You were right in trying to hide your true feelings from Joe. But I’m afraid you may have done it a little too well."

Frank looked at his father, confused. He was absolutely certain Joe never saw how angry or upset he was. What could be wrong with that?

"I think Joe got the impression that you didn’t think his ordeal was all that bad."

"What?!" Frank cried out in shock.

"Did you tell him you saw the pictures yesterday?"

"No! Dad, he had already gotten himself all worked up about talking to Carlos. I didn’t want to give him anything else to get upset about."

"So he thought you were seeing those pictures for the first time today."

"Yes. Are you saying I should have told him about yesterday?" Frank asked, bewildered.

"Not necessarily. But if today really had been the first time you saw those pictures, well, your reaction was pretty underwhelming."

Frank stared at his father as he thought about his reaction to Joe’s statement, to seeing the pictures again. He felt a sickening thud in his heart as the pieces fell into place.

"I understand you had to keep everything inside just to be able to get through this afternoon yourself." Fenton continued. "But I’m pretty sure Joe misinterpreted your reactions. Frank, you were so unemotional, so calm, so…indifferent. I’m afraid Joe thinks you’re disappointed in him. In the way he handled everything. And now…"

"…he feels guilty for letting me down." Frank finished for his father as he dropped his head into his hands.

Frank didn’t think he could possibly feel any worse than he had after hearing Joe discuss his horrible captivity, unable to stop thinking if only he and Fenton had arrived sooner, Joe would have been saved some of the torment. He was quickly finding out that wasn’t the case.

"What’s happened to me? Before this year being a ‘big brother’ came so naturally I never had to think twice about it. Now… no matter how hard I try, no matter what I do or say, it’s always the wrong thing. It seems I always end up hurting Joe instead of helping him."

Frank was overwhelmed with guilt and remorse. He had wanted so badly to help Joe get through this afternoon, to support him as much as possible. Instead he had simply added to the burden Joe was feeling, a burden he knew was becoming unbearable for his brother.

"Don’t be so hard on yourself." Fenton replied, squeezing his shoulder gently. "It was just a misunderstanding. Just explain to him that you really were disturbed by the pictures and upset at what he had to go through, but you were trying to remain calm for him. Make sure he understands he handled himself perfectly and you are not disappointed in him or anything he did – or didn’t do."

Frank nodded, feeling numb, as if he were on autopilot. He felt his father take his elbow and guide him from the chair, leading him down the hall to Joe’s room. They arrived just as a nurse came out the door. Seeing Fenton and Frank she stopped in the doorway, effectively blocking their way.

"I’m afraid he’s feeling a little worse than usual today. He asked to be left alone." She relayed Joe’s message.

"I just want to sit with him." Frank replied moving towards the door. "I won’t bother him."

The nurse extended her arm across the door, resting it on the door-frame. "He said to tell you both that you could leave. He really is feeling bad today. He specifically asked for morphine. He hasn’t taken that in days."

"Morphine?" Fenton repeated, concerned. "But I thought the Percocet was all he needed."

"Normally it is. Apparently, his arm is bothering him a lot more than usual today. Now, if you’d like to go out and get something to eat, or go back to your hotel for a while, I’m sure he’ll be up for visitors a little later." She said, her tone and body language indicating she had no intention of letting them in the room.

‘It’s not his arm that’s bothering him.’ Frank thought as the guilt continued to grow. With a twinge of fear, Frank realized that Joe had asked for morphine not to escape the pain in his arm, but to escape the pain in his soul. That pain that Frank had caused.

*****

Soon after the nurse had left his room, Joe noticed the intense pain in his arm had dulled to a low throb, his ribs that had begun to ache earlier in the afternoon had quieted down considerably but most important of all, the guilt he felt at Frank’s apparent disappointment in him had decreased immensely to a level that was at least tolerable. Joe no longer hated himself for letting his brother down, even though he still didn’t understand why Frank felt that way, and marveled at what one little pill could do to deaden not only the physical pain he was in but the emotional pain as well.