Chapter 21

When Fenton came to, he found that everyone had awoken and Marjory was there with them as well. He tried to move but could not and he realized his hands were cuffed to a beam and his legs were tied together. So was everybody else, which would be Nancy, Ben, Marjory and Regina. Fenton closed his eyes, remembering the person he saw before he passed out. How did he manage to carry them all to this place?

"Fenton! Are you alright? We were worried about you..." Nancy whispered. She as a Network agent was strong in spirit and body, able to access and adapt to all situations. He nodded, a little weakly; the sedative that Joe had used was a little too much for his system. But whatever horrible feelings he had was cancelled out when he heard Marjory sobs.

"Dad...I'm afraid..."

"Don't worry dear...I'm here. Did he hurt you?

"I'll never fight with you again daddy...he had not hurt me, don't let him hurt me ..." She pleaded. Fenton felt his old friend creeping into his heart again, stabbing at him. Guilt would not let up.

What about Bob then? How did he tie in?

"Good morning...it's morning..." The door to the basement opened and there was Joe's frail figure, illuminated by the light from outside. He shut the door and immediately, the basement was dimmed again, with only a few slits above giving air and light.

"I brought you guys food...oranges...I like oranges...and ice cream...and beer...don't have much taste for anything else anymore." Joe sat down on the floor and started peeling oranges for them. He was wearing gloves. He spotted Fenton noticing his gloves and smiled wanly, "I stained my bandages...can't have my fluids on your oranges...you'll catch it too..."

"Joe, you're sick...you need help...I'm sure we can get you help..." Fenton tried to appeal to Joe, regretting the fact that he was too afraid to at least tell Joe the truth about Bob, about the true perpetrator. Regretting the fact that he had been gone when Joe needed someone around most. But Fenton too could not assure that whatever he could have done would not lead to this scenario. Maybe it was bound to happen one way or another. Joe was too far gone.

Away from us. He's already taken off.

"Joe, I don't really like oranges...but beer would be good, I'll drink with you..." Ben chimed in but his frivolous tone was shaky. He was afraid as well. They all were, Joe seemed to be a madman with an innocent face. And to his children, Joe was their tormentor. That would raise the fear factor several notches up.

Marjory looked at Joe with extreme fear in her eyes; she must be remembering her ordeal.

Except with the wrong person. The wrong guilty party.

Joe looked at them sadly and gave Marjory a trembling smile. "You must have hated me most. I took so much from you...I took away your innocence, your mother...don't worry...I'm not that evil...won't take away anything else..."

"What do you want Joe? I will give you anything. Why bring us here?" Fenton asked his son who seemed normal and yet, terribly dangerous at the same time.

Not to us but to himself. Dangerous to himself.

"Oh, I don't know. I just...I just had to do it. You know...it seemed...fun. Hey, I'm evil...I do what I want." Joe's flippant manner caused Ben to giggle a little in spite of himself and Joe snarled at him, shutting him up more effectively than his scowling wife could.

"You're not evil son. You're not." Fenton spoke up finally, still looking down on the ground. "I'm sorry." His voice was filled with so much remorse and regret that he was sure everybody heard immediately.

Joe looked at Fenton strangely and smirked. "You thought you could hole me up there, make me ingratitude to you...and when the time comes for me to truly trust you, to need you, you'll go! Just like them! Just like Frank! Well, I won't! I won't let you...you make me think that you're a saint, forgiving me for all the heinous things I did when you just want to...how can you forgive me? It's all my wishful thinking...I can't even forgive myself...maybe I should not have done this, and let you punish me...it doesn't matter right? I'm going to hell anyway." His voice trailed off, sounding more like a lost child than anything else.

He's really mad, no Joe, don't be like that...I promise, I'll help you. I will make it go away.

Joe then fed Nancy a slice of orange and she shook her head. The rest of them shook their heads also. Ben muttered something a pizza. Joe shrugged and left them in the basement, off to do whatever he felt like doing.

"Dad...is there something you're not telling me? Not telling us?" Ben asked Fenton, suspecting from the tone in Fenton's voice and the words he spoke. But how can he reveal everything to them? He had been carrying the guilt for seven lonely months, how could he let his children suffer the same?

How can I let Joe suffer from guilt that's not his to bear for close to six years? What kind of father am I?

The failure kind.

They deserve to know. He's their brother, their friend.

"Dad?"

"Never mind son. I'll tell him later, and all of you can hear as well."

I can only tell it once. To tell it more than once will just kill me. And I can't die yet. I need to be a father finally.

Joe came back again, a few hours later, pizza in his hands. As he limped slowly and his pants slid up a little, Fenton could see blood, fresh blood soaking the bandages. "You're hurt."

I'll kill Bob. Kill that man, sonny. I'm so sorry...but it's not enough, right?

"It's ok. Thanks for asking." Joe answered flatly. "You won't eat nice oranges so I got greasy pizza..." Joe giggled, sounding like child. "I used to love pizza especially Mr Pizza in Bayport. His was the sloppiest pizza..."

"And you'll always order extra mushrooms, even snatched those on our slices away." Fenton reminisced with Joe. There were some things he remembered. He did not really hated Joe that much before. Joe was a very lovable boy. Joe was a little surprised and he smiled, looking a little like his old self, or what Fenton vaguely remembered him to be. So many wasted years, so many wasted chances. His heart knotted, tears stung his eyes.

At least Laura loved him...but she did not know the truth...before she died. Joe's really ours. Ours. Even if he was not, he's innocent.

"But I always gave the pepper away to Frank. He loves the green pepper...weird guy."

He seemed so happy talking about the past that it broke Fenton's heart. He wanted to reach for this strange young man and search for the boy inside, the boy he never loved as much as he should. The boy he had failed.

But it would never happen. He had abandoned his son and left him to the wolves in prison, leaving him there to their mercy, when he did not deserve it all. He deserved better, he deserved all the love Fenton could give and more.

"That's enough Joe." A hooded figure came from the back; he was accompanied by a woman, Samantha Ingrid. Fenton would recognize that voice anywhere.

"Yes, Truth." Joe replied obediently and stepped away. The hooded figure came up to Fenton and lifted up his hood. Samantha whispered something in Joe's ears and Joe nodded.

"Hello Bob."

'Hello Fenton. Your entire family's here...good to see you Marjory, I remember you well"

Fenton cringed at the way he greeted Marjory and saw Marjory's baffled expression.

"Uncle Bob, you stayed with us for so long, we're a family...why team up with Joe to dump more pain on us?" Marjory, in her guilelessness, pleaded with her uncle.

How Fenton wished he could just shoot Bob then and be done with it. Should he tell the truth now? But he saw Joe who seemed to have that wild mad look in his eyes even though his mannerism was one of calm and decided against it.

I have lost a son to madness. Can I lose the rest as well to guilt? Should I just keep it to myself? If we get out of this alive, will the truth still matter to Joe?

"Wait...where's Frank?" Bob turned to Joe who gazed at him with mirrored eyes, reflecting everything, revealing nothing.

"I killed him."

"What? That was not in our plans!"

Joe nodded painfully as tears welled in his eyes, giving them the shimmer that they lacked earlier. The mirror cracked, the grief divulged. "I know. But I shot him...I killed him. Saw him in Hope's house last night. Bastard. Stole my girlfriend...I love her so much. He died. I shot Hope too, can't bear to see her kiss him. Then I dumped them into the ocean. If she's not mine, she can't be anyone else's. Why care so much? You'll have plenty of target practice here."

Fenton gasped and Marjory started crying. Nancy stared dumbfounded at Joe. Ben and Regina were just lost for words.

Well, Regina was lost for words, not Ben.

"You shot Frank? Our brother? Why Joe? Why?" His eldest, most frivolous son spoke in a grave voice so unlike his nature, his eyes piercing into Joe, horror and disappointment could be clearly seen.

Joe gazed expressionless at Ben and then at everyone. "Because. Just because."

Marjory spat at Joe and Bob laughed maniacally. He gestured at Samantha and Samantha brought Joe out of the basement.

"Isn't it fun? Now that Frank's dead. Your youngest son, Fenton, is really capable of such evil. And Samantha...she's a great help, a great help indeed. Do you know it was Joe's idea to drug the servants before you returned? I was hiding in his room, biding my time. He told me about this place, how nice it would be to kidnap all of you here because it's so deserted and no one could hear. He said to bring everyone here to exorcise the demons." Bob stared madly into Fenton's eyes. "I guess he meant for us to execute all of you."

"We all know who's the evil one, Bob." Fenton replied coolly, not allowing Bob to break him down, not allowing Frank's possible death to stop him from thinking of ways to save his family. Bob clucked his tongue and shook his head.

"My my Fenton...I guess you haven't told anyone...are you alright? Have your soul being completely eaten up? I guess you probably decide to condemn on of your own...and condemn he is alright...fully condemned."

Bob then threw his head back and laughed violently. "Judgment time is tonight. I hope you say your final farewell."

He left the basement, leaving all of them in anguish, unable to break from the cuffs. Unable to break from the seemingly impending doom.

Chapter 22

"Are we going to die?" Regina whispered to Ben who nodded.

"Most probably so, I'm sorry...we have a nut in our family...two nuts...no...three..."

"Then I want to tell you something, or I'll never have the chance."

Ben looked at his wife, his eyes beaming. "That you love me so very very much?"

"No, that you're the fourth nut and I love you so very very much."

"I wish I can kiss you now." Ben muttered miserably.

Fenton heard the two whispered more sweet nothings to each other and was slightly touched. He had been extremely harsh on his judgment towards Regina but hearing her, not blaming the family, not blaming anyone but still loving his son changed his view of her. But however, the sweet nothings were beginning to sound grating to his ears.

Laura, you see this? Bring some sanity to Joe. He's really ours. I'm sorry...I know you tried to make me love him more. But now he probably killed Frank. Yet he's mad...I just wasn't there to prevent his descent.

"Daddy..." A tiny voice came from the darkness. Fenton saw that it was nightfall already. Time was passing quick, too fast for them. He felt helpless to do anything but he would be strong for his daughter.

"Yes Margie..."

"I don't want to die like this..."

"Neither do I dear..." Fenton wished he can hold her, take away her pain, and tell her not to hate her brother anymore.

"What can we do?"

"Put our faith in something...put our faith in..."

In love. But how can he have love when we did not give it to him? Is his love for us, if he still has any, enough?

"In God? Like pray now?"

That's a good idea, that's a very good idea since your stupid father could not think of anything...

"Yes, that would be nice."

"Fenton..." Nancy called out. "I think I'm getting loose from the handcuffs, Joe overlooked the pin in my hair and I'm trying to pick the damn lock but...it's getting frustrating..."

Ah! Marjory's prayers answered immediately.

"Nan, please work on it, you're our only hope..."

"I'm trying...but...the angle's a little off for me."

"You can do it, keep calm. Tell yourself you have done it many times, it's going to be nothing this time...I have faith in you Nan..." Fenton encouraged her on and he could see Nancy nodding, trying her best to fiddle with the lock, behaving like a true Network Secret Agent. He knew she must be devastated with the likelihood of Frank's death but she kept it inside, putting on a brave front for everyone.

"Is there a chance now?" Ben stopped whispering sweet nothings to Regina and his voice was filled with hope. Nancy nodded.

"We only need more time. I need more time."

Too early the door swung opened. But in stepped Joe alone. "They're in their bedroom...I think ...disgusting..." He came down with one more bottle of water.

"Joe, are you going to kill us? We are your family...don't you want to come home with us?" Fenton tried in one last attempt to reach to Joe. Joe looked at him strangely and shook his head.

"I guess I will...you know...fulfill the evil in me. But don't worry...dad. I mean...Frank misses all of you. Mom too. You can join them."

"What will you do then Joe? What?" Fenton pressed on, fearing the answer but he needed to know.

Joe smiled strangely serenely, it was a perverted peace on his face, one that promised only more pain. "Maybe I'll shoot myself and go to hell finally. I don't know. I haven't decided. It's already hell here anyway, I'll get use to the eternity."

"You evil bastard! I hate you! I wish you rot in hell!" Marjory screamed at who she thought was her torturer.

"Don't you love Frank very much? I think I'll kill you first. End your torment." Joe stared dispassionately at her. "I am responsible for your pain. I'll set you free. I will set all of you free. Trust me."

Fenton wanted to say something, anything. However, Bob entered the basement, walked up towards Joe and placed his hands on Joe's shoulders. Fenton saw Joe shifting uncomfortably.

"Shall we? Joe...did you bring what I wanted?" Bob whispered in his son's ears.

To Fenton's dismay, Joe handed Bob a gun.

"Good...very good." Bob step into the centre with Joe behind him and Bob trained his gun at Fenton.

"You want to kill him first? I want to kill him first."

"Whatever...I don't care." Joe replied indifferently.

"You sure? Now Joe...I want you to tell me to kill him. Yes or no? Hand the sentence and I'll do the execution." Bob eyes glinted with victory. Fenton closed his eyes, afraid of what his son would say.

"Oh yes...opps...Nancy's going to break free Bob." Joe warned Bob flippantly, and Bob was distracted. He turned towards Nancy and then Fenton wanted to scream in triumphant.

For Joe flashed out a gun and pointed it at the back the Bob's head.

"What are you doing? We are in this together!" Bob hissed almost frothed at the mouth. The taste of betrayal was bitter and difficult to swallow. In Joe's betrayal to Bob, Fenton found much hope.

"I don't really like you also. You put me in the fire. You let those people hurt me. Those people...and..." Came the wretched answer. Fenton remembered the report of that case, a detailed account of what was done to Joe was written as well. He closed his eyes, knowledge of the torment his son had went through at the hands the madman gave him no rest and wrenched at his heart most unmercifully.

"You may be Truth, but you hurt me. I trust you. But I also hate you."

"I...Joe...didn't I explain that it was to cleanse you so your mom will see you?"

Joe's eyes welled with tears as he cocked his gun. Fenton saw Bob swallowed hard. The whole basement was silent in horror. "She will never want to see me. I'll never be cleansed. Never...never again. I don't want to kill them...I don't want to." The voice was the voice of a condemned man, a man with no escape, no future.

"You killed Frank! What difference do these few more make?" Bob hissed angrily.

Tears rolled down Joe's eyes. "I don't know. I just don't want you to. I didn't want to kill Frank either..."

Did you really kill Frank?

"I'll shoot your dad now."

"Shoot then Bob. Just try... The moment the first drop of his blood falls, I'll kill you." He spoke harshly through his tears, his hands shaking but not too much. The gun was still aimed at Bob's brains.

Son, what's wrong with you?

Bob pressed the trigger. The girls screamed. Ben shouted "No!" and Fenton closed his eyes.

Nothing, the gun was not loaded. Fenton saw Bob looked incredulously at his gun, the gun Joe handed him. He turned around but Joe was quicker. Fenton did not know where Joe got strength but he kicked Bob to the ground, sending Bob reeling on the floor and shot a loud crackling shot downwards, leaving a small hole burning through the ground. Dead silence filled the room, more deafening than the gun shot.

"This one has bullets." Joe stated hoarsely and pointed the gun back at Bob's head. Bob's eyes widened in fear. Perhaps death was really too frightening for someone who was seemingly going to hell.

"Nancy, are you free?" Joe asked calmly, never taking his eyes off Bob.

Nancy's handcuffs laid dangling on the beam. Her hands were untying her legs.

"Just a moment...freed." Nancy stood up and staggered a little towards Joe. Joe nodded towards a box in a corner.

"Take a syringe and stick it in him."

"Joe...we'll get you out, you don't have to suffer anymore...let me make an arrest and we'll get you out." Nancy cajoled, wanting to end this nightmare.

"You're going to arrest me?" Joe asked, resigned. "I killed the man you love."

"Joe...please...listen to dad. Bob is lying to you. All along. You want to know the truth, I got the truth. Release us and let me tell you..." Fenton finally found a voice. Death had been too close to him, rendering him speechless for that few moments.

Samantha then came running down the basement in happiness. "Have you killed them darling? Oh..."

Joe spun around and trained his gun at Samantha. "I don't like you too. You make me eat crap."

Fenton laughed then, it was hilarious. Joe was a real funny person. Everyone, except for Joe, gave Fenton weird stares.

"If you don't want me to kill anymore people Nancy, go stick a syringe in her as well..."

"Joe..." Nancy pleaded again.

"GO DAMN IT! OR I'LL SHOOT YOU TOO! YOU CAN GO JOIN FRANK!" Joe suddenly hollered, his blue eyes flashing with anger. Nancy did as she was told.

When she jabbed the quivering Samantha who had no idea what was going on, why was the winning side suddenly losing, Joe crept up to her, another syringe in his hands.

"Sorry Nan, once again, this won't hurt. It will only make you weak. Thank you."

Trapped again. Joe, when will your madness end?

Chapter 23

Frank was afraid. Very afraid. He had spent the night over at Hope's, thinking that everybody else could handle themselves. But he was obviously wrong, dead wrong. He had been to the wrong dangerous place, because he almost lost her once, the thought of it ever happening again, the prospects caused him to want to stay behind to protect her. In doing so, he had damned his family.

"Where are you guys!" He had driven back to the manor early in the morning at seven to find it deserted. The servants and Nigel had told him somehow, last night, everyone felt extremely tired and turned in early. When they awoke, no one was around. It should not be that weird, since everyone was working and Marjory's whereabouts were still unknown but he was there at seven. Ben never knew what the world looked like at seven in the morning. He was still in dreamland. If anything, he and his wife should still be in bed. And all Frank returned to was a large, empty manor.

But not without some trinkets as a lead.

He had a rough idea of what happened to them, only that he did not know where they would be. Stopping at the red light, he slammed his hands on the steering wheel. Heaven must be smiling upon him since he did not get into any accident, driving the way he did. Hope was right next to him, a worried expression on her face. They had left Caramel in a nursery, a different one from the usual centre she attended, breaking routine, so Bob or Joe or Bob and Joe could not get to her, would not know where she was.

They had been wandering around town aimlessly for half a day. The trip down to the police station to report them was missing was futile, the police had no leads and had wasted much time. He had since managed to reach Grey Man and was on his way to the Network in Little Port. But with Hope next to him, he could not really meet up with Grey. Thus, he brought her back to the office, keeping a few security personnel close to her and warning her not to move an inch. She should be quite safe where she was. His gut feeling, though he rarely used it, preferring his much more accurate rationale thinking process, told him she would be and he was comforted by that thought.

I'll find you guys. Stupid, stupid me!

Accurate, rationale thinking? Who am I kidding? I should have been home instead of staying with Hope.

Stopping his car a street away, he ran all the way up to the Network, a small shop front housed a compact branch office of one of the most secretive agencies in America, dealing mainly with terrorists and related businesses. Bob was an Assassin. The shock of that discovery was still very much haunting Frank.

Danger can be so close once again. If Bob has his way, I'll lose more than a mother.

I might lose all of them.

I cannot, CANNOT, let that happen. Wait for me. I'm coming to get all of you home.

"Grey, any calls from Michel so far?" Frank barged into Grey's man office, looking extremely disheveled. Grey Man looked up and had a restless look on his face as well. He must have known about the missing Hardy family. The Network intelligence unit knew almost everything in America.

They might even know what I ate last night for dinner.

"No. And that's what bothering me. Nancy did not turn up today as well. Have you tried calling her?"

Nancy! Of course...but where...oh no, she's at the manor last night.

"You cannot get to her?" Worry intensified in his tone. Grey Man nodded with a frown.

"I'm sorry. I've forgotten about her totally...how can I? This is so frustrating! My family doesn't need another blow like this!" He threw a star bracelet on Grey Man's table.

"I found this when I went home this morning. In Joe's room, it was in a pretty prominent position, just hanging on the doorknob. And guessed what? I smelled that stinking cigarette smell of Bob in his room as well. His nurse was also gone. Somehow, they might be in this together." Frank slumped down on an armchair opposite Grey, raking a hand through his hair, anxiety was affecting his ability to think and plan. He forced himself to be calm, breathing slowly and purposefully until his heart was still, until the pounding and the nauseating feeling in his stomach died down.

Grey Man fingered the bracelet and looked at Frank grimly. "Bob might have kidnap Joe as well, Joe might not be an accomplice."

"Since when have you become his fan?" Frank hissed, he could not help being rude, not when he had so many other things to worry about. "If I recall correctly, he was not even worried when I told him Marjory was abducted."

Grey Man opened his mouth, as if he wanted to say something then he clamped it shut. Frank was getting impatient then. "Oh, just say what you want, c'mon? That I'm a heartless, cold-blooded fool."

"That's not what I'm going to say. But if you keep this hatred in you, you'll be the fool."

Frank narrowed his eyes but then he calmed down, a tinge of regret crept over him, his expression softened.

"You're right. I already feel like a damn fool." He saw Grey Man's eyes flickered.

"A damn fool for still having that soft spot for Joe when I should not." He added, his gaze bore deep into Grey Man's own, remembering the moment after he knew Marjory was abducted, he was so sure it was Joe and would have perhaps punch the truth out from the creep, had something not stopped him. It was not Samantha who stopped him with her pulls and her words. Something else had stood in his way, something sweet, familiar and utterly unwanted.

Grey Man shook his head. "As you wish Frank." He spoke, almost sadly. It hit Frank slightly; Grey Man never let his emotions show.

"Maybe you're already too far gone."

Frank ignored the last statement because it hurt, and he did not need to worry about that when his family members and Nancy's lives were in danger. He was about to just leave since Grey Man could not provide any leads as well when the phone rang. Grey Man spoke the one name that gave Frank much hope.

"Michel! Where have you been? Leaving without informing anyone! Oh, Nancy...she did not tell me. Where are you? The Hardys beside Frank have all disappeared. I did send Network agents to scour the area...we are all trying our best. Joe? What? You're arriving in half's an hour time? Good. Come back immediately or it's your ass on the line! Move it!"

"What?" Frank asked, the pounding in his heart came back to him. It should be a new lead, something he could work with.

"Samantha, Joe's nurse...she knew Bob long ago, when Bob was an Assassin. Michel could not elaborate. His mobile was stolen. Anyway, he's already on his way here. He promised to arrive in half an hour. Maybe the two of you could work out something from the bracelet."

"Joe makes straw stars like that all the time. I taught him how." Frank revealed, not allowing his voice to betray the deep sadness inside that was eating him up for so long, leaving him empty.

"But I didn't teach him well."

"You could be in for a surprise...good or bad, I don't know. But I need you to remain calm and on your feet. You do your family no good by being flustered." Grey Man sounded him out and he nodded, a little embarrassed at what he had said.

About forty minutes later, Michel threw open Grey Man's door the exact same way as Frank did. He stormed up to Frank.

"I can't get your mobile the whole time! What happened?"

Frank closed his eyes in annoyance. "My mobile went dead on me. I guess I was too preoccupied to charge it."

Michel curled his lips in displeasure before spotting the star bracelet. "What's that?"

Grey Man cocked his head to one side. "Our only clue, besides Bob's cigarette smells in Joe's room."

"Anything else? Maybe some sedatives? Or serum to help brainwashing?"

Frank looked puzzled. "Why would you ask that?"

Michel shook his head. "There's no time to elaborate. I have my doubts. If you have paid more attention to Joe, the conclusion I have will not have eluded you as well. We have to set off immediately. Where did you find this bracelet?"

"On the door knob of Joe's room." Frank reiterated. Michel closed his eyes.

"It's a prominent position. Who would put a bracelet on a door knob so everyone can see? I think Joe's trying to say something." Then he opened them wide, realization hitting him. Joe was making his cry ofr help so obvious for them.

"I know where he is."

"You think I need help. I think so too. I thought I was getting better, I can forget about the past but it comes back all the time. I forget so many things lately...but I can't forget what I really want to. I'm afraid sometimes...so afraid I'll forget faces and things that are so dear to me permanently...when you came into my room this afternoon, I almost forgot your name. And I would feel funny sometimes...I can't sleep and I don't feel refreshed though I'm supposed to have slept. And when I wake, there's like voices in my head, different voices and I can't place them so I gave them names, my alter-ego, Truth and...someone ...well...they were telling me this, telling me that, giving me bad headaches that make me want to scream and...forget it...you won't understand."

"Joe's crazy." Frank muttered under his breathe as Michel drove them fast into the stillness of the night in his Porsche. Though the situation was acute, Frank still resented Michel handling his Porsche and Michel knew it. Frank kept glancing over, as if willing Michel to make that one mistake he could pounce on.

I need to know." Joe's eyes were filled with resolution then they shadowed over. "But I don't know what I want to know."

Crying for help. He was crying for help in that weird, frustrating way of his. Why can't he just be normal and tell me outright he needed help? I could have help him...

But I would not know how. Yet, one can always try.

"Your brother's not mad. He's desperate."

"I'm not blaming him!"

"You're already sentencing him."

Frank closed his eyes tight. "No. I do wish he has no part in this...really. More than anyone of you could know or guess. Once he's your brother...you can never see him in another way. No matter how much you try...it just comes back and the coming back is what I hate, what I can't stand. I don't want to go back, do you understand?" Frank's voice was strangely soft and sincere. Michel did not understand but he could sympathize. Going back was all Joe wanted to do.

"The pain he caused us Michel...you don't know what it's like to hate, what it's like when hate corrupts everything, even love. And...I don't know. I can't understand feelings anymore. Everything used to be so pure, so easy, and now it's too difficult."

Michel threw a sidelong glance at Frank. He was stable, he was opened. He should know the truth; the truth would set him free. They were worried before about him, but now that circumstances had escalated into dire straits, it should be a good time to let him know.

He has a right to know. He's old enough to know what to do with it. Fenton's worry had been unfounded, so have ours. Frank is more a grown man than a young man, maybe even older than me in some ways.

"Frank, Joe didn't do it."

"This kidnap? How would you know?" It was entertaining to see how contradictory expressions could just flash across Frank's face in an instant. Hope and disbelief flitted across the dark, handsome mien.

"No, not this. I mean...Joe didn't do those. It's not my speculation. We know. Your father knows." Michel cast him a worried look.

Frank stared back at him and in a more deadly expression. "What do you mean?"

Michel swallowed. It was not an easy tale to tell. It was a sad, disturbed story about a madman preoccupation with hatred and revenge, of the vilest kind, forever changing innocent lives, forever eclipsing the sun.

And it was not easy to tell it to the person who would take it the hardest, suffer the most.

Not easy at all. But still Michel told the story. He finished it before they reached the place Joe would most likely be, with that clue he left behind for them to find. Maybe not so much of finding everyone else but more of finding Joe himself, because he was lost, very lost.

Frank had listened in silence. In the dimness of the car and the sudden lack of streetlight on the tiny street they were in now, Michel could scarcely make out Frank's expression. He was half afraid Frank would throw himself out of the car and do something silly.

But Frank's wise beyond his years...that I can see. He was just too consumed, not so much with hatred, but with emptiness.

Will that emptiness be filled now?

"You alright?" Michel asked worriedly.

But his only answer was silence, overbearing silence.

Maybe they were right after all.

Joe gagged the last person in the room, besides himself, Regina. She was struggling desperately, mouthing swears at Joe before Joe placed the masking tape over her face.

"Treat it as a free facial wax." Joe smiled wryly at her. He walked away from them, to the other end of the basement, facing them. Next to him were some cans of beer. He had bought them. He stopped caring about his liver, in fact, he never did.

Who cares anyway? No one cares.

Because you got such a screwed up personality. Murderer.

You're right; no one should care for me. He's not coming. No one knows...

So what are you going to do with them?

Nothing. Nothing at all. Just...I just want them to listen.

He pulled the tab off the first beer. He had been drinking since yesterday; it felt good to numb himself. Looking at his captives, he was surprised he actually managed to pull it off. Maybe after a few run-ins with crooks of all kinds, he managed to learn a thing or two.

Off all the things to learn, I have to learn murder, grievous hurt and rape. And now kidnap.

Is he going to pay the ransom?

Who am I counting on?

I don't know.

I don't know either.

"Don't worry," He told his silent audiences. They were silent not by choice of course. He felt the gun in his right hand; he alone knew what it was for. Soon, very soon. It would really be over. And he would descent forever.

Forever. It's a long time. I can close my eyes and barely imagine...it's a very very long time.

Well, I know you're not going to see mom.

I know that too. She's in heaven. I'll go the other way.

"I just want to talk. But I don't know what to say. Beer relaxes me." He raised a can up in a mock toast to them. "Cheers."

If he could just decipher the myriad of expressions he was facing, he would be fascinated but he could not be bothered anymore. He was judged and condemned, nothing could change the verdict. They could stare at him with daggers, but ice shards were already in his soul, piercing him, freezing him.

Killing him.

"I'm sorry little sister, to put you through this. You play a mean violin...mom told me...many times...many many times." He spoke softly, not looking at Marjory. But he could hear muffled cries. Marjory probably did not like him to talk about Laura. He did not deserve to but he want to. It would be the last time he was allowed to think about his mom.

"I'm sorry for shaming you. If I knew my intentions, it might be easier for everyone to accept. Maybe I turned mad, maybe I went crazy. Maybe I'm pure evil...I think I am. So there. I did it because I'm pure evil. And if I can take away your shame, I will. I know how it feels...you must feel time times more because you're so innocent...so very..." He could not continue. He stared at the floor still, hearing muffled sounds.

"And I'm so evil..." he giggled and took another can of beer. How fast he finished the first one.

"And Ben...the great philanthropist. You did not tell them about it right? I know you're behind the funding to the soup kitchen...thanks. It's a very beautiful place, a very good place. Too wonderful for me though. Mom says you have the greatest heart among all of us and she's very proud of you. She never worries for you, always knew that you knew what you wanted to do. That you're not confused like us. Do you know she rooted for you when you quarreled with your dad about your choice of Major in the University? Social Work...that's very commending. She rooted for you...like she rooted for all of us."

"And I have to go kill her. I'm sorry...but I know you'll walk again. Just know it here." He pressed his heart.

"Dad...can I call you dad? I have nothing against you...but I really wish you did not treat me so nice. It's a prison there. I wished you treat me like scum instead. Then I don't have to feel so bad. I'm sorry I'm not your son. But you'll always be my dad."

"Thanks Nancy, for seeing Hope to safety. You don't know how much it means to me. You're a good friend."

"Be kind Regina, evil people don't end their lives well. I know you can be good."

"And Truth, thank you for everything. I had memory lapses...you filled in the gaps. It feels good to know what I've done. If only you'll tell me why. But I don't like you. Like I said, you hurt me."

He fingered the gun handle, feeling the promise of damnation. He could not go back to prison, no matter what he said. He would rather damn himself forever. The ransom would be paid.

"I'm really really so crazy over all of you. I wished things were different; tell Frank I love him most. And tell Michel I'm so sorry the friendship could not last long. Tell Hope...tell Hope I wish her all the best. Please tell them for me. And please tell mom I love her so much when you reach the end of your journey, many happy years away and go to Heaven because I won't get to see her after all."

Placing the gun nozzle to his head, he was about to press the trigger when timely intervention stepped in. A soft gentle voice spoke through the chaos, the silent chaos because the screams were muffled.

A soft gentle voice bringing back a thin shred of sanity. A soft gentle voice, like that tender touch.

Joe had been yearning to hear it for so long.

"Houses, newly built but not much takers since this is such an isolated place. We might not have the field to ourselves anymore in future."

"That will be the best one."

"I thought so too."

Chapter 24

"You sure this is it? This place?" Frank asked quietly. The tiny house was tucked in a corner, unwanted. The room was dark, unlighted. Michel and Frank looked around, with Michel fumbling for the light switch.

And Frank spotted a door at one corner slightly ajar, a very faint orange glow emitted from the tiny opening.

Something...please let it be something...I need you to be alright. Joe, be alright, wait for me. I'm coming to get you..

He tapped Michel on the shoulders and pointed towards the light. The two of them have gotten used to the darkness and Michel seemed to be looking in the same direction. Frank motioned for Michel to follow him.

"If we have a confrontation later, I think I'll just warn you that telling Joe the truth will aggravate the conditioning."

Frank felt the new heaviness on his heart, bringing tears to his eyes but he refused to let them be shed. He did not need tears now. He needed to let what he really felt for years to surface.

I do miss him. Terribly. I do love him most still. Why couldn't I see him for who he was? I knew who he was. I KNOW who he was. I was supposed to know best.

"What do you propose I do?"

"Tell him only in last resort, when we have nothing to turn to." Michel thought for a while before suggesting, wondering afterwards if it was a good idea.

Frank nodded grimly. Joe would surely go mad...but if he could do it in a right way, he could end this nightmare.

"Let's go. No time to waste." He pushed the door opened gently with Michel behind him, a gun readied in his hands.

The sight shocked him. Everyone available in his view including Bob and Samantha were gagged and cuffed to a beam running across the wall. He could not see Joe but he could hear the soft raspy voice, cutting through the darkness. A soft raspy voice bidding farewell to all. He hurried his footsteps.

"I'm really really so crazy over all of you. I wished things were different; tell Frank I love him most. And tell Michel I'm so sorry the friendship could not last long. Tell Hope...tell Hope I wish her all the best. Please tell them for me. And please tell mom I love her so much when you reach the end of your journey, many happy years away and go to Heaven because I won't get to see her after all"

It was a bittersweet sad voice of Joe that Frank was hearing. Despite being distanced from his brother for so long, he knew instinctively what Joe was going to do, without even seeing Joe. Any idiot could. It was a final farewell.

I will not let this evil come to pass. Suicide will never claim my little brother. My beloved brother.

"Joe...don't...I'm here." Frank let his voice travel softly, soothingly to Joe. More than anything, Joe would not be hurt by receiving a little tenderness, even if it could be too late.

He saw looks of astonishments on the faces through a quick glance; it felt like they were looking at him like he just stepped up from a grave. Ignoring the looks, he concentrated his focus on Joe who had relaxed the trigger but not the gun.

"You're here. Hello Michel."

"Hello Joe." Michel greeted Joe. "Can I unmask them?"

"No. Not yet. I don't want to hear the girls scream. I've got a headache." Joe replied in a matter -of -fact tone. "After I die you can release them."

"Alright Joe, whatever you say." Michel backed off, afraid to agitate Joe.

"Thank you."

Madness! Pure madness! Bob, you're going to pay for this. No matter what happens, you are. If Joe doesn't come out alive, I won't kill you but I'll make your live a living hell wherever you go.

"Joe, put down the gun. You don't like guns right? Listen to me..." He tried to persuade his brother. He stepped closer to Joe and Joe watched him listlessly.

"Don't come near me or I'll really shoot."

"Why Joe? It doesn't have to be this way. You're the most innocent of us all, please; don't let it end this way..." Frank had a hard time keeping his voice soothing and calm when his heart was ready to explode.

"I'm not innocent. Stop saying nice things." Joe smiled sweetly and sadly at Frank. "You always say nice things."

"No, I don't." Frank answered huskily, the words caught in his throat for a moment. This was a fiercer battle than any Frank had to fight before. He was fighting for Joe's sanity and he prayed it was not too late, that he had the correct ammunition.

Love, love must win. No matter what. It will.

"I'll be here Joe, I'm back and I'll stand by your side. Don't do it, for me...please..."

Joe's hand wavered but only slightly, the gun was still pointed to his head. "Why? Why now? Why only now?" He asked Frank, a dejected look settled on his face.

"Joe, listen to me. You're really innocent, in time, you'll know. The evil man have you in his clutches now, but I'll take you away...I'll tell you everything slowly so you'll finally understand...and I'll be here...will you let me be here for you?" Frank implored earnestly. "I want to be here for you."

"No. You've come to arrest me..." Joe stared at the floor again, tears streaming down his face, landing on the wooden boards, forming little puddles. "...and send me back. I know I deserve to go back to prison...but I can't...not even a day more. You don't know...you don't know what it's like...and I can't tell anyone..." Joe voiced trailed off and it was too breaking to hear. Frank stomach twisted into multiple dead knots, squeezing tears from his soul into his eyes.

"Kidnap...that's like...what? 10 years? I don't know. Murder...life...I will see them, they won't want me now, my body's like Freddy Kruger's...but they will still torture me...in ways you don't know...don't know...they mess with your mind and make you so sick of yourself...I don't want to go back..."

"No one will charge you Joe, you're not at fault. You're never at fault...I'm sorry I didn't see it until now...Joe...please...give me the gun...give yourself a chance, give us a chance...give me a chance..."

"No! I hear these voices telling me what to do! At night! I can't sleep...cannot! And the voices won't stop! I see things that are too real...but not real at the same time. I don't know why! I hate living like this...I hate this guilt, I hate this life! I can't stand myself...I can't live with him!" Joe screamed, his breathing becoming heavier and raspier, Frank thought he saw Joe swayed a little.

"Who Joe?" Was there a third person besides Bob and Samantha? Somebody else pushing Joe over the edge?

Is the third person me?

"Me! I can't live with me! Him! I don't know! I don't want to be Joe!" Joe was hysterical. "He hears so many things...things he cannot bear to, things he don't understand and he did this!" Joe gestured to everyone. "See! Everyone's suffering...some of them crying...he made them all cry!"

Frank was at a loss of what to do, what to say. The torment he saw in his brother was too much, too unfair. He felt the room spinning. He felt like he had already lost Joe.

No! I cannot fail this time! Cannot! Think Frank! THINK!

"Joe, it was Samantha who maybe whispered nonsense in your ears. She probably gave you drugs and that make you disorientated, lethargic. Joe, she's Bob's old girlfriend, they ganged up together to snare you. I know, I spoke to her son...her son told me a lot of things. You can go ask him also...but first, you must trust me." Michel spoke up in place of Frank's speechlessness.

Joe looked baffled; his tear-streaked face broke out of madness for once, but only that tiny split second.

"Why would she do that? She helped me, she brought Bob to me..."

"Exactly Joe! Don't you see? Bob's evil...he hates all of us. He wants to ruin us...Joe, don't let him ruin you." Frank added desperately. Could he tell Joe? What would Joe do?

"I DON'T NEED HIM TO RUIN ME! I AM ALREADY RUIN! THE SINS I COMMITTED! THIE THINGS THEY DID TO ME! THEY CANNOT BE ERASED! LOOK AT ME! I'M FULL OF SINS...MY BODY'S HEDIOUS! CAN'T YOU SEE? MY SOUL IS EVEN MORE SO!" Joe screamed at all of them. Frank ears caught muffled cries in the background but it seemed like the room was deadly silent as Joe's words replayed themselves over and over in Frank's head.

"I'm already ruin!"

"Joe, Bob did all those things. Inside you...you know you could not do such things...you will always be Joe...innocent and pure, so full of love and sunshine...how can you be capable of such crimes? He!" Frank pointed at Bob with pure hatred flashing fiercely in his eyes. If looks could kill, Bob would die a thousand horrible deaths that instant.

"He did all those things. He killed mom, he raped our sister. He crippled our brother. And he put it on you and silly me...I couldn't see...couldn't." Frank's voice trailed off, he was unable to continue, unable to bear the torment, the guilt.

Michel cast a worried look on Joe. Frank too. It was a bet, a chance. Joe suddenly smiled, but it was a disturbed smile. He was shaking all over but he stood where he was still.

And he seemed like he's still going to kill himself.

"You can release them."

"Joe?"

"But don't take off their gags...bring them out. I want to be alone with you big brother." Joe asked, still smiling but his voice came out strained, harassed. "There so much things left to say."

Frank nodded frantically. "Anything you say...just don't do it."

"I won't. The keys are in the box with the syringes...Michel, you bring them out. Frank must stay."

Michel looked at Frank and Frank gave him a look telling him to hurry up. It took some time before everyone was free from their cuffs. They could all pounce on Joe then, but it would be too risky. Joe only had to press the trigger. It would take only a split second to do so.

But Michel was extra cautious with Bob and Samantha. He had Fenton helped him unlock Samantha's handcuffs from the beam but cuffing her back again once they had her out. He handled Bob. Then he ushered everyone out. There were worried looks, apprehensive looks, shocked looks, confused looks and a look of triumph evil in Bob's eyes. Frank turned as Bob walked past him and punched the fiend hard in the stomach, knocking him over.

"Michel won't give me the gun and I will never stoop to your level as well. It should be a bullet through there. It's one of the most painful ways to die." Frank's voice dripped with the venom of a thousand king cobras.

"And death would be too good for you."

Bob quivered with silent laughter. Michel pulled Bob up roughly and shoved him up the stairs.

Chapter 25

They were finally alone. Him and his little brother. Joe then let up his stoicism and Frank saw pain in his expression...no... mental torture, which was already etched permanently on his once carefree mien. It was pain resulting from unconditioning, from neglect, from abuse, from all the evils done unjustly onto the young, helpless soul.

"Joe...I'm sorry...give me the gun, we'll somewhere...far away from here...I'll make the pain go away..."

Joe smiled that sad tranquil smile again. "Please locked the door, I don't have the strength to do so."

"Joe."

"Lock the door." Joe repeated softly, shuffling his feet, the gun still poised at his skull.

Frank obeyed his chancy brother. Those on the outside could not gate crash their meeting. He breathed in deeply and willed himself to prepare for a battle, the most important battle of his life. When he walked back in front of Joe, he felt his heart burst in fear and sorrow again when he saw Joe still with the gun, its barrel pressed against the side of his skull. Joe gazed deep into Frank's eyes and maybe saw the mountain of regrets, the rivers of tears that would surely flow.

"Will you forgive me big brother?" Joe asked sincerely, like a little boy, begging. Tears brimmed in those wide sapphire blue eyes, blue eyes that Frank knew so well before and yet were so strangely foreign to him now. The blue eyes clouded with the deepest sorrow, the most hopeless plea.

"You haven't done anything wrong...Joe...I should be asking..." He tried to set things right, set things straight.

"No more pretty words Frank...you're making my head hurt...will you forgive me?" Joe cut Frank off, an urgency in his tone complimented by a desperate look for a desperate man.

For two desperate men.

Frank swallowed hard, blinking away his tears. No, Joe could not see him break. He would be strong; he would be so strong that he would pull Joe away from the evil that he vowed would never claim his brother.

"I forgive you Joe. Let me bring you home...don't you want to go home? Let's end this now...we can go for ice-cream. You love chocolate ice-cream...remember? I always buy some back for you on hot summer nights. We'll play touch football, maybe go for a slow jog along the beach...just like in Bayport..."

Will you forgive me?

Joe smiled weakly and the gun remained in place. Frank perused through all his options, but he was too afraid to make any sudden moves. Joe was quick with the trigger; he knew how good his brother was with guns. Better than most he knew.

""You're a saint. I love you best all these time...love you the most...never stop...never stop thinking of you..." his words touched Frank like nothing could. "There are voices in my head Frank, yours one of them...but it's a voice I like to hear, no matter what it said...because what you said is always good, always true..." Joe looked at him with so much tenderness and love that crushed Frank's heart, squeezed it and made him feel extremely unworthy.

Oh my God, what did I say in his head?

The Joe's eyes became disenchanted again. He had looked under his bed and had seen monsters in there, monsters so frightening and real, not figments of imagination

"The stars are too far away, home too is very far away, I don't know the way anymore...nobody wants me there anymore."

"It's not true Joe; we all want you back...you'll be alright...you will be...let me Joe, give me a chance! Don't let me die with you...I will die with you...if you go like this..." Frank beseeched with all his heart, all his soul. He did not what else he could say. He only hoped it was enough. He took a step towards Joe, reaching out for Joe.

And Joe took a huge step back and hit the wall behind. His eyes were frantic, like a trapped animal.

"Don't come near me Frank! You don't understand..."Joe pleaded and Frank's heart went out to him. All he wanted was to hold Joe and take the hurt away, if he could, if Joe would let him.

"Joe, I do, I really do, even if I don't, you can make me understand, don't do this to yourself...Joe...we can start all over..." He reached out his hands for Joe but Joe shook his head furiously.

"No! It's too late for me...I...I'm so...Frank...I'm not a good person...not a good person at all...I...the voices...they won't shut up...they won't..." Joe shook his head and his body shuddered violently. His breathing became more ragged, his trigger finger more resolute.

"I'll make them shut up, I will...Joe, listen to me, you said you love me most, you love me best. If you do it, I'll kill myself too. Dad will have to bury two sons tonight! I promise you that!"

Joe stared vacantly at Frank and then suddenly, he put a finger to his lips. "Shh...listen...can you hear her? Can you hear the cello?"

Frank could hear nothing but the cold silence of the empty room which refused to warm their hearts. He closed his eyes for a split second, wishing he had a gun too.

"Can you hear that? It's so beautiful...she plays so well..." Joe looked up and closed his eyes for a second too quickly for Frank to jump on him and take the gun away.

"She plays like an angel...she made the cello alive...but when I accompanied her on the piano, she never tried to overshadow me, never..." He whispered earnestly to Frank. Frank felt hot tears in his eyes then burning his very being and thought of a past they could never go back to. "She lets me play like I was the one making the music come alive...but she was the one who made it alive...I hear her sometimes, when I was back in the manor...she would play and I would creep out of the room to go into that practice room and she's gone...poof...no more. Her cello's left next to her piano...and I can't play a tune to get her back..."

He then looked at his mangled left hand, the one not holding the gun. "She must be so proud of me" He mocked himself, giggling a little. "I miss her so much. How can I live with the knowledge that she died by my hands? My hands...stained with her blood most of all..."

"You did not kill her Joe, you didn't and she knows who did it, there's no need..." Frank inched a little forward again and Joe cocked his gun. He wagered a finger in Frank's direction and smiled.

"There you go, making my head hurt again...why do you say such nice things?"

"Because they're true, they make your head hurt but they're true. When your head hurt, you have me to run to Joe...I'll be here..." Frank promised with all his heart, all his soul and he wished so desperately that Joe heard it, heard the love behind his words.

Love must prevail...it must...

"It's not only that Frank, how can I face Ben and Marjory? I shot at you! Truth said I did and I did...I wish to believe what you said..." He closed his eyes tightly and opened them again and growled in frustration. "But I can't...they won't let me...and no matter what you said, if Bob did it..." Joe said with gritted teeth, Frank knew how hard it was for Joe not to collapse then.

Maybe he should, and then I can bring him back

But if he does, it means he'll be crazy to the point of no return.

"I never told anyone about that night...Truth was there! He must have been the one who shot at me and put the blame on you!" If there was still something rationale behind Joe's emotional chaos, behind the webs of lies that Bob had spun round and round his little brother, Frank hoped to appeal to it, hoped somehow Joe could still listen to reason.

"Either way, I caused it. I did. And Frank..." in a smaller voice Joe spoke, very hesitantly. "When I was in there...they hurt me, so badly...I'm so dirty all over...those nightmares...you cannot imagine...I wish I had fought all the time, but I didn't, I can't! There were too many! Sometimes, it seemed so pointless...but I really hated it! Hated every moment of it! And when Kleptous came to me after I was freed and threatened me, I didn't put up much of a fight either..." Joe smirked at himself. "I'm...I'm soiled. Every part, my body, my soul, my life. That's me...I'm stained, I'll never be clean."

"Joe, it's not your fault...They threatened you, you don't have to let them win...you can survive this, I'll help you. They're the one who're soiled! In my eyes, ...you're innocent still...You are. You have love, more than any of us, more than me. You're a better person than me. Don't go this way; don't let it end this way. You are beautiful, so very... " Frank could not bear the grief any longer. His lips trembled and he let the first stream of tears flow silently down his cheek. He could see the anguish, the hurt, the resignation Joe had on his face and he was afraid, so afraid that Joe would just give up. He had never been more afraid than now, ever.

"Beautiful."

If only I can feel his pain for him...I will...damn them all to hell.

"Joe, I love you little brother. I love you so much. No matter what you gone through, you're still...still Joe...Frank's little brother. I lived those years like a zombie, feeling I have lost something. I drank so much I almost killed myself, I had a wonderful girlfriend that I loved so much but pushed away, I had a family that I fought so hard for, I engrossed myself in business, let myself to a slave to those idiots who sat behind their cushy armchairs with their hands stretch out. Somehow, nothing seemed right...because I lost something, something dearest to me and have really been empty inside..." He smiled through his tears. "I lost my little brother, the pain in the neck, the one person I love most, treasured most. You know how I lost him?"

"How?" Joe asked with breaking misery, not giving Frank any eye contact.

"I betrayed him, I wanted to find him but I can't...I was too blind, too selfish. He found me twice, but I chased him away...I did a lot of horrible things to him...if he dies, I can say I killed him." Frank replied, tearing as he did, struggling to not to break down, not at this time. He needed to be sane for the both them.

"No...you didn't...it's not you...it's..." Joe looked at Frank, now trying to console him but a little lost for words; Frank though deeply grieved, found the scene a little comical.

"Because he will have died, not giving me a chance to make it up, not giving his family a chance to take him home. If he goes like this, many will go with him because he's such a beautiful person. I don't know how you feel Joe, but I know how I feel. I don't want to lose you again."

If you go this way Joe, I will die everyday a thousand deaths until the day I die.

"I love you most little brother. I'm sorry it took me so long to figure it out." Every word was christened with Frank's own blood. Joe heard Frank. He heard him loud and clear.

"I heard you when I was in the hospital, I almost gave up, but I heard you. I don't know the words, but I know your voice...you took me back. In prison, I pretended that you visited me and that kept me sane too, in a sense, you took me back also...you always find me...you found me when I was burning...should have left me there...left me there to burn off my sins...sins that cannot be erased" Joe tears flooded down without control, every drop seemed to be wrenched from Frank's own heart.Joe's gun wavered and it almost fell.

"Will you find me now? I missed you so much...and I'm so lost...I can't...I can't think. I'm so confuse...always...and...so tired...so..." the gun fell to the floor, Frank rushed to his brother just as Joe collapsed, weakened by the battle waged on his sanity, ravishing his mind, raping his soul.

I won't let you fall. I won't let you hit the ground.

He held Joe and cradled him in his arms, Joe was so frail, so much a shadow of his former self, a shadow of the shadow of his former self. Joe may be lost now but he found Frank for Frank, and he whispered into Joe's ears, gentle words like crystal clear stream water down a parched throat.

"I'll find you...I'll always find you." He smiled, grateful, thanking God for giving all of them another chance. He kissed Joe's forehead which was damped with sweat and gently wiped the tears away.

"Take me home Frank...please..." Joe eyes fluttered before closing, his breathing ragged, disturbed. Frank picked up his brother; the world was empty at that moment except for the both of them. He had to help Joe heal, Joe would heal. And so must all of them.

The world was still beautiful, life was still beautiful, and it was time for it to be beautiful for Joe, for him. For everyone.

When he emerged from the basement, everyone looked at him in concern, looked at Joe with a sad lament, everyone except Bob and Samantha, who were still gagged and tied up.

But he did not have time for them. He had seen Joe's bandages when his pants lifted up a little. It was soaked in blood.

No longer feeling empty, Frank walked past them wordlessly but he was stopped by his father. "Where are you bringing him?"

Frank looked at his sleeping brother and his heart broke again. "To the hospital and then back home. We'll decide what to do there...wherever Joe wants to go, I'll go with him."

And they watched him placed Joe ever so gently on the passenger seat of his Porsche and drove him away into the stillness of the night.