This is my first story. If you guys like it, I promise there'll be more to come. Oh, by the way, my favorite brother's Joe so, Frank fans, why don't you try and convince me why I should write about him instead of Joe. Feedbacks are always appreciated.

Title : Pain

Author : Gabrielle de Lioncourt

Disclaimer : Many nights I prayed to whatever power's out there to make Joe mine but hell, he's taken.

Email: nizlele@hotmail.com

Chapter 1

Frank threw a glance at his brother and frowned. Joe had looked a little pale when they left Gore's office, but now he was white as sheet and Frank could make out the beads of sweat on his forehead.

He reached out and touched Joe's arm. "Hey, are you alright?"

Joe wanted to say he was fine, but knowing Frank would never believe him, he just gave a shrug. His head had started hurting a little while after lunch and now it was pounding mercilessly. To top it all off, Joe felt sick to his stomach. Not that it's anything new, Joe thought bitterly. After the fateful night two months ago, Joe would never feel okay for the rest of his life.

Still far from satisfied, Frank felt Joe's forehead. "You're running a temperature."

Joe shrugged again, saying nothing. His stomach roiled, sending bile to his throat but Joe swallowed hard, trying to keep from throwing up.

Frank decided to drop Joe off at home. At Joe's inevitable protest, Frank just shook his head, adamant. "No, you go straight up to bed. I can handle this alone."

Joe wanted to protest again but a sudden wave of nausea hit him, leaving him breathless.

"Pull over," he muttered through clenched teeth, his fingers tightly clutching his brother's arm as he fought to calm his stomach.

Frank pulled over the sidewalk and a few seconds later Joe was violently sick, throwing up what little he'd eaten for lunch. Frank' worry doubled when they had to stop again 10 minutes later. By the time Joe had finished throwing up, he was so weak Frank had to help him back to the van and Frank was seriously considering taking him to the hospital instead of dropping him off at home.

"Are you still nauseous?" Frank asked anxiously, studying his brother's face closely. Joe swallowed hard, his face an alarming shade of green.

"I don't feel so good," Joe mumbled, his eyelids drooping. When he opened his eyes again, his blue eyes were dazed and unfocused.

Frank was baffled. His brother seemed perfectly fine this morning. Suddenly Frank didn't feel like going to see April Weinhardt anymore. After what her father did to Joe, he didn't want to have anything to do with the family anymore. Except maybe murder didn't sound like a bad idea, Frank seethed as he pictured the ex-politician's face.

Quickly, Frank took Joe home and it took a lot of effort just to get Joe up the stairs. At last, Joe lay on his own bed, exhausted.

Pain PG