Joe awoke with a start. The terror of the dream still gripped him, as he found himself in that place between sleep and wakefulness where he wasn’t quite sure what was real and what wasn’t. He had instinctively risen halfway to a sitting position, and then let out a muffled cry as his sore ribs protested the sudden movement. Easing himself back down on the bed, he told himself it was just a dream, hoping that would decrease the panic that had taken hold of him.

He heard someone moving, getting up from the cot in the corner of the room and realized he must have inadvertently awakened Vanessa.

"Joe? Are you all right?"

"Frank?" Joe asked, slightly disoriented. He was awake enough to know it was the middle of the night. What was Frank doing here? Where was Vanessa? She had spent every night with him since he’d been moved to a private room almost a week earlier.

"I’m right here. It was just a bad dream." Frank said soothingly.

"Where’s Vanessa?" Joe asked, now confused.

"She’s spending the night at the hotel." Frank replied simply.

After returning to the hotel that afternoon, Frank had explained the apparent misunderstanding to Vanessa. He told her he wanted to spend the night with Joe so he could explain everything and clear the air as soon as possible, to which Vanessa had quickly agreed.

"Oh." Joe replied simply. He looked at Frank, and then quickly looked away.

At some point during the night, Joe decided he had figured out the reason for Frank’s strange behavior. Recalling the conversation he’d had with Vanessa a few days earlier, when he confessed to simply giving in to the pain and ultimately giving up, he came to the conclusion that she had shared that discussion with Frank. Joe assumed his older brother was extremely disappointed in the fact that he didn’t hold on, knowing Frank would never give up looking until he had found Joe. Wanting desperately to get back in his brother’s good graces, Joe chose to tackle the problem head on.

Frank sat watching his younger brother, who apparently had something on his mind and was obviously struggling with whether or not to share it. Convinced it had something to do with his seeming indifference the previous afternoon, Frank thought it best to tell Joe what really happened but before he could speak, Joe blurted out two simple words that left Frank stunned.

"I’m sorry." Joe looked at his brother, despondent and defeated.

"Wh…what?" Frank asked, certain he had misunderstood. What could Joe possibly have to apologize for?

"I’m sorry. I gave up." Joe whispered, shamefully. "I thought you weren’t coming. I gave up on you. I know it was stupid to think you could find me so soon. Especially since you had nothing to go on." Joe leaned back against the pillows, eyes squeezed shut. "But after a while I lost track of time. I wasn’t sure if I’d been there for hours or days. And it just hurt so much…"

Frank stared at his younger brother, not quite able to put his emotions into words. ‘He’s apologizing to me? For giving up before they beat him to death? And he thinks he did something wrong… I couldn’t have lasted as long as he did. God, I really let him down this time.’

"Joe, listen to me." Frank said quietly.

"I know I really let you down this time, Frank. I know you’re disappointed in me, but I just couldn’t take it anymore." Joe said, mentally reliving every abuse.

"Look at me, Joe!" Frank said, more forcefully. "I am not disappointed in you and you have never let me down. If anything, I’m the one who let you down."

Joe stared at him, utterly confused. "But yesterday. When you saw the pictures… listened to my statement. You were so calm and…unemotional. Vanessa told you about our conversation, right? You knew I just gave up in the end." Joe’s voice trailed off, tinged with guilt.

"Yes, Van told me about that. But that has nothing to do with what happened yesterday." Frank sighed. "Look, Joe, you didn’t give up on me, ok? Like Vanessa said, the only thing you gave up on was being in pain. And there is nothing wrong with that. You survived and that’s all that matters to me." Frank shook his head and wondered, not for the first time, if Joe’s stubbornness was a blessing or a curse. "You’re not invincible, Joe, and no one expects you to be. Except you – apparently."

"But if you weren’t mad at me for giving up, why were you so…cold…yesterday?" Joe asked, bewildered.

Frank took a deep breath and tried to explain. "Yesterday was a big misunderstanding. It wasn’t the first time I’d seen the pictures."

Joe responded with raised eyebrows but remained silent, wanting Frank to continue.

"I originally saw them when Dad and I went to the police station to talk to Carlos the day before. I came upon them by accident. I wasn’t…prepared…" Frank heard his own voice shaking and closed his eyes. Taking a moment, he tried to calm himself and instead almost fell apart completely when he felt Joe’s hand on his arm in a silent gesture of comfort.

‘Great.’ Frank thought, disgusted with himself. ‘After all this, he’s trying to make me feel better.’

"I lost it, Joe. I totally lost it." He opened his eyes and looked at Joe, seeing nothing but concern. "I swear the only thing I wanted to do was kill Rashman for what he did to you."

"I appreciate the thought," Joe half-joked. "But we don’t do that, remember? We’re the good guys."

"Yeah, right." Frank replied. "Yesterday I was afraid I’d lose control again. I didn’t want to make things any harder for you, so I just shut down completely. I can see how you’d misinterpret that, but it was the only way I could get through it. I’m really sorry if it seemed like I didn’t care. Whatever you had to do to survive was the right thing to do, so please don’t think for one second that you let me down."

"So…you’re not disappointed in me? Or what I did?" Joe asked hopefully, thinking that would be worse than anything he had endured at the hands of Keith Rashman.

Frank shook his head at his younger brother. He was being so…JOE!

"No, little brother, I’m not disappointed in you. In fact I couldn’t be more proud."

Almost immediately, Joe’s entire demeanor changed as he beamed at Frank’s words.

"Really?"

Frank was somewhat taken aback that his opinion of Joe still mattered so much to his younger brother. He was also touched that after everything that had happened this year, Joe still wanted his approval.

"Let’s see… as soon as you knew you were in trouble, you called for help. You hid the evidence. You saved the life of a U.S. Senator. You prevented the possible assassination of the President. And despite what you seem to think…" Frank paused, almost for dramatic effect, thoroughly enjoying the pleased look on Joe’s face. "…you never, ever gave up. So, yeah, I’m really proud of you."

A comfortable silence descended on the room, one that Frank was reluctant to break but knew he had to; he and Joe still had one more serious talk ahead of them. Frank was absolutely certain Joe had requested morphine only to relieve the emotional pain he’d been in. But did Joe realize that? And if he did, would he try it again?

Frank knew there would be more rough spots ahead for his younger brother and he was beginning to worry about how Joe would handle them. He knew the doctor would give Joe a prescription for painkillers once he was released from the hospital, which would make access to them even easier. Wanting no more assumptions or misunderstandings between them, Frank steeled himself for what he knew could be a very volatile conversation.

"Is there anything else you want to ask me?" Frank asked, looking closely at his younger brother.

"No." Joe replied, still smiling.

"Ok, but if you think of anything else…"

"I’ll ask, right away. Scouts honor." Joe grinned, holding up his hand in a three-fingered salute.

"You were never a boy scout." Frank said, shaking his head at Joe’s goofy reply. "Now, I have a question for you. And I want a straight answer."

"Alright." Joe nodded, seeing Frank’s expression turn serious.

"Yesterday the nurse told us you specifically requested morphine. You haven’t taken that in days. Was your arm really bothering you that much or was the morphine supposed to kill the pain that I caused?" He asked, getting straight to the point.

Joe’s silence was all the answer Frank needed. He took a quick moment to steady his frayed nerves, wanting to be certain Joe would understand he was angry at the situation and not at Joe himself. Leaning forward slightly, Frank stared into his brother’s intense blue eyes that were once again clouded over with guilt.

"Joe, you have got to promise me that if I ever do anything to upset you, you’ll come to me right away. I know we still have a long way to go on the trust issue, but you know I would never, ever do anything to intentionally hurt you." Frank said forcefully.

"I know." Joe responded quietly.

"Please, promise me that whenever something is bothering you, you’ll tell me about it immediately." Frank pleaded with him.

Joe nodded, looking away. "Sorry."

"Joe, I am not angry with you." Frank said a little softer this time. He waited until Joe looked at him again. "I’m not. Really. But you cannot use drugs to run away from your problems." Frank continued earnestly.

"It was one time, Frank!" Joe cried out, defensively. "When you acted like you didn’t care, it was the last straw, ok? I just needed to forget about everything. Just for one day. Stop treating me like some drug addict!"

"Morphine is the strongest painkiller available. And the most addictive. Do you understand how easily you could get addicted to it?" Frank asked, hoping the terror he felt wasn’t showing in his face. "You can’t use it to ‘forget’, Joe. Not even once!"

"Yesterday was hard. A lot harder than I thought it was going to be." Joe replied attempting to mount a defense. "I was tired. And my arm did hurt. A lot."

"That’s not why you asked for the morphine and we both know it."

"It’s not like I was taking some drug I bought on the streets!"

"It doesn’t matter whether the drug was legal or not, Joe!" Frank yelled, now genuinely afraid that Joe thought what he did was ok. "You could still get addicted before you know it!"

Joe sighed and leaned back against the pillows. "Look, between giving my statement and thinking you didn’t care… I needed to escape."

"I know how difficult yesterday was for you, especially my part in it. But drugs – legal or otherwise – are never the answer, Joe. You’re going through a lot right now and some days it’s going to feel like you’re being crushed. Things are going to happen and you’ll feel like you have no control over your own life anymore. Are you going to remember how easy it was to get away from your problems with morphine? Will you try it again, ‘just once’?" Frank pressed no longer concerned about hiding his fear, if it would convince Joe of the seriousness of what he was doing.

"You know that Carlos will have a few more questions for you once he gets your statement typed up. Are you going to need a little morphine to get through that too? I’ve almost lost you too many times this year, Joe. I am not going to sit by and watch you voluntarily give yourself up to some drug, legal or not." Frank knew it had never entered Joe’s mind to turn to drugs on a regular basis, but he was afraid that with everything Joe was dealing with now, he could very easily become addicted before he even realized what had happened. "I know you’d never consciously use drugs on a daily basis, but even trying it just once to help you cope… Joe, you could be addicted before you know it."

Joe simply looked at him and scowled.

"It helped, didn’t it?" Frank said softly. "Made the pain go away. In fact, it probably felt pretty good, right?"

Joe hesitated.

"Right?" Frank pressed him.

"Yes." Joe admitted grudgingly.

"And that’s exactly why you can’t even consider doing it again! If things get too hard I’ll help you deal with it. I’ll hold your hand; I’ll listen to you yell; I’ll be your punching bag. But you have to promise me you will never, ever turn to drugs again no matter how bad it hurts." Frank begged his voice shaking now.

Once again, Joe remained silent.

"Joe, please! You’re scaring me!"

Joe looked at his brother and could plainly see how scared Frank was for him.

"Promise me. Right now. You will never, ever use drugs again – of any kind – to run away from your problems." Frank implored his brother. "Please, Joe…"

Even though Joe really did just want to forget his problems for one day, and he had no intention of ever doing it again, he admitted Frank had a valid point. He knew it would only take one or two more lapses of inner strength to become a slave to the drug that had been instrumental in getting him through the initial stage of recovery.

"I promise." Joe sighed. "No more drugs. If there’s something I can’t deal with, you’ll be the first to know. I just wish I was a strong as you give me credit for."

Frank exhaled with relief, unaware he’d been holding his breath. "Wrong, little brother. Very, very wrong." Frank said shaking his head for emphasis. "After everything you’ve been through this year, especially with Rashman, I’m more convinced than ever that you’re the strongest person I know."

"Oh, geez, now you’re getting all mushy on me." Joe cracked, although he was secretly pleased at Frank’s words.

"Uh-oh. We can’t have that, now can we, Tough Guy." Frank responded in kind.

Joe started to reply but was halted by a rather large yawn and half closed eyelids as his body reminded him it was still the middle of the night.

"Looks like those heart to heart conversations put you to sleep, little brother." Frank remarked, standing up, and heard an incoherent, mumbled reply.