Letting out a monstrous roar, Frank lunged at Joe's attacker and tackled him to the floor, sending both of them crashing into the heart monitor. Frank made a wild grab at the pillow still covering Joe's face but in his attempt to regain balance, the intruder's flailing hand had grabbed the IV stand, and before Frank could recover from his fall, he looked up to see the IV stand tilt precariously. Then it slowly fell on him, and once again he was pinned to the floor.

The intruder took the chance to flee, smirking through the ski mask as he disentangled himself from Frank. But Frank was too quick for him. His long leg shot out and he swept the guy's feet from under him and again he was on the floor, grunting heavily. Something black skidded across the floor and rested just a few feet away from them. The guy made a frantic attempt to retrieve the object but Frank grabbed the back of his leather jacket and turned him around on his back, giving him a punch to the face for good measure.

"Why did you try to murder my brother?" Frank screamed, previously repressed anger burning like liquid fire through every fiber of his being. "What has he ever done to you? Why? Why, damn it? Answer me!" Every question was punctuated with a punch to the face, and at last, the guy's head lolled to the side, his body gone limp.

"Let's see who you are," Frank hissed, reaching for the ski mask. Just then, loud, ominous beeps emanated from the electrocardiograph, and Frank's blood suddenly went ice-cold. Joe! He scrambled to his feet, bad guy forgotten and stumbled toward his brother in horror. No heartbeat, Frank realized in shock, staring at the straight, frighteningly flat line on the monitor. Panic rushed through his body. No, this can't be happening!

"Somebody, help! I need help!" Frank shouted down the hall, but nurses and doctors were already rushing to the room to see what the previous commotion was all about. Simultaneously a booming voice called out over the system. "Code Blue ER STAT! Code Blue ER STAT! Clear all corridors; clear all corridors!"

A doctor burst into the room, sparing no glance at the fallen guy at her feet but fixed her eyes on the jumble of fallen equipment and the IV line dripping onto the floor. "What the hell happened in here?" she snapped. Frank took a step back and watched dully as she rushed over to Joe. In a flash, she was hovering over Joe, deftly applying chest compressions.

"I need assistance," she shouted just as Dr. Carter and a couple of nurses ran in. She began to audibly count with each compression, "one thousand one, one thousand two, one thousand three, one thousand four, one thousand five..."

Frank stepped back and back until he collided with the wall. It was happening all over again. The dream was coming true. Joe's body shook with each compression, and still nothing happened. Come on, Joe, come on, come on, come on, Frank kept on chanting in his head. Cold sweat ran down his face in rivulets but nothing matched the icy vise gripping his heart as he watched the doctors work feverishly to save Joe's life.

Dr. Carter came over with the amboo bag, a balloon type bag, and started to furiously squeeze it to push air into Joe's oxygen-deprived lungs via the intubation tube. The count began again, "One thousand one, one thousand two, one thousand three, one thousand four, one thousand five"; another squeeze of the bag and the count began again. Joe's face had gone from white to ash-gray, his body limp and deathly still.

"CPR's not working," Dr. Carter barked, his face set in concentration and determination. "Come on Joe, come on man, don't die on me, don't die on me..." He made a signal with his hands and a few seconds later someone pushed in a defibrillator.

Please please please

Frank closed his eyes. I can't watch this, he thought numbly, aware of someone's arms around him, aware of someone's face against his chest and the telltale warm wetness on his shirt.

Please please please oh God please

He heard someone call out, "Clear", and he opened his eyes just in time to see Dr. Carter placed the paddles on Joe's chest, sending electrical current to the heart. His breath caught in his throat as Joe's body jolted upward. Everybody turned to the EKG. Nothing. "Again," the doctor said and everybody stepped back as he sent another jolt to Joe's heart. Still nothing.

"Oh, Joe, please don't do this to me," Frank begged silently. "Don't punish me like this." Vanessa sobbed even harder.

"Charge to 300," Dr. Carter ordered, his face tight with tension. He charged again and Joe jerked again, so violently the whole bed shook. Instantly loud beeping sounds filled the air. "I've got a heartbeat." The words were pure music to everybody's ears.

Frank's breath whooshed out of him as his legs threatened to give out under him amid the audible sighs of relief. Vanessa threw her arms around him and cried, her harsh sobs racking her body as she held on to Frank. The world went black for a while but Frank managed to hang on, pure relief the only thing keeping him standing. "He's okay, Vanessa...he's okay..."

Frank looked over to the spot where he'd left the guy. He was gone.

5.30 a.m.

After lots and lots of coffee, Frank was able to get himself under control again, though he had to say 'under control' was highly over-rated. He was never going to forget this night for the rest of his life. Not ever, he thought as he sat hunched by Joe's bedside, watching his brother sleep. He'd come close to losing his brother again, twice in one day, and that was not exactly an easy thing to forget no matter how he tried.

Dr. Carter had demanded to know what happened. Frank watched his face turn pale as he told him about the attacker and it turned even paler when Frank said that he had escaped. Fifteen minutes later, a police officer the size only seconded by that of a beach whale stood guard outside Joe's hospital room. His brother's face was still too pale but at least it wasn't that deathly shade of gray anymore. Little spots of color had even returned to his cheeks. He rubbed Joe's cold hand with his own, wishing he could transfer as much warmth into Joe as he could.

A tear dropped onto Joe's hand he was grasping in his own and he wiped it away gently. Frank couldn't remember how many times he'd cried that night. He didn't care. Vanessa was ensconced on the couch, lying down snuggly with Frank's sweater bundled under her head and an ice pack pressed against her temple, clearly exhausted. In between sobs she'd told Frank that the attacker had slipped in unnoticed and knocked her out with a blow to the head. The bruise on her temple was already turning an ugly shade of purple.

Listening to Joe's steady, even breathing, Frank could feel himself getting drowsy. He hadn't slept a wink in nearly 24 hours. No, he commanded himself. I'm not going to sleep. Not until Joe wakes up. Frank owed him that much.

Hey, what's that? Frank wondered as his eyes caught on a small black object right next to his foot under the bed. He bent to pick it up. The guy had dropped his cell phone. For the first time that night, Frank's lips slowly curled up in a small smile. Maybe I am onto something here, he thought as he scrutinized the tiny palm-size phone. 7 missed calls, he noticed, squinting in the poor light to read what was on the tiny screen.

He nearly dropped it when the phone suddenly vibrated in his palm. Vibration mode, he realized. No wonder he missed those calls. The Caller ID was flashing. Billy, Frank read. Frank racked his brain but he couldn't remember knowing any Billy.

Now is the time to find out, he decided, pressing the Answer button.

"Yeah?"

"Where the hell have you been, Bobby?" a male voice said angrily. "I've been calling and calling for hours! Are you dead or are you just plain deaf?"

A dead silence ensued. Frank waited to see if this Billy would speak again.

"So you're not talking now? Dead and deaf and dumb, that's what you are, you useless oaf! Told you to take care of a simple thing but you couldn't even do it. Add stupid to that list too. So how did it go? Is the kid dead yet? You'd better make sure you wiped him out completely this time, coz I don't want no stupid replay of the stupid mistake you made with the poison, you hear me? You'd better come back here with-"

Trembling with barely restrained fury, Frank stabbed the End button and threw the phone onto the floor. His whole body was shaking with anger. I'm going to find you, he vowed silently, Whoever you are, you bet I'm going to find you and when I do, your own mother wouldn't recognize you.

He stared at his phone in disbelief. "He hung up on me."

She shrugged, "I would have done the same thing." He glared at her and she stared back, her gaze never wavering for an instant. She'd done her job. Well, at least, she accomplished something, though it might not exactly be what Billy wanted, but hey, everyone is his own man, right?

Just then, Bobby stumbled in, looking like something the cat dragged in. Fresh bruises marred his cheeks and dried blood crusted his nostrils. "What happened to you?" She had jumped off the table in alarm.

"One guy with a hell of a fist happened to me," he answered curtly, carefully avoiding Billy's eyes, knowing full well he was going to be dead meat before sunrise.

"My little blond-haired hero did that to you?" Billy said with glee. "I knew he was something the first time I set eyes on him."

Bobby stared at him in confusion. "It was no blond guy. Tall, dark hair, dark eyes? He's the one who did this to me." He winced as he moved his jaw a little.

Billy shrugged. "Must be a friend then."

"Nah, he said that he was that kid's brother. He was screaming at me like mad, demanding why I was trying to kill his brother, what did that kid ever do to me, blah di blah, all that crap. If only he weren't punching me all the time I would have said something of my own. But it was fun to watch, him grieving over his baby brother like that."

Billy had gone absolutely still. "What did the kid look like?" he whispered aghast.

"I told you, dark hair, dark eyes," Bobby said, turning his head to see her slip quietly out of the room, looking guilty as hell. What's up your ass, sis? He wondered, frowning as the door closed behind her.

"No. The kid you killed."

Bobby closed his eyes, trying to recall. "Um, blond hair, nice bones, rugged looking, well, he wasn't all that rugged lying there like death but-" he sent Billy a curious look, "-the type you like."

"Nooooo!!!!!!!!!!!" Billy screamed, banging his fist down on the table so hard the beer bottles overturned. "You've got the wrong guy, you idiot!! Get your sister's ass in here right now!!"

Bobby scurried out of the room, knowing how dangerous Billy can be when he was in one of his moods and now was definitely not the time to test his patience. Jeez, what did I do wrong now? He grumbled all the way out. What did he mean the wrong guy? I did as I was told, something wrong with that?

He winced when Billy screamed again and this time he could hear breaking glass. He shook his head and set out to find his beloved sister.

Pain PG