In sleep he sang to me...

Joe was dreaming. He was swimming. The water was black, as black as the moonless night sky. He looked around him, shivering as he treaded cold, dark waters...

In dreams he came...

Then he felt his limbs turn to stone. Joe started to sink. The water was deep, so deep his feet couldn't touch the bottom. Water flooded into his mouth and nose. Kicking his leaden legs, Joe tried to stay afloat but he was drowning. He couldn't breathe. His lungs burning for air, he frantically tried to make it through the dark to the surface.

That voice which calls to me and speaks my name...

Help me, he thought dimly.

And do I dream again, for now I find...

He could hear voices, some shouting, calling his name but to his horror, he couldn't respond.

The Phantom of the Opera is there....

Inside my mind...

Joe gasped. For a moment he saw only blackness. Then his vision gradually cleared, a blank, white wall the first thing he saw. He tried to turn his head but couldn't. His heart started pounding. Where am I? His mind screamed. He couldn't move. He didn't seem to have any strength at all in his limbs.

Frank lifted his head off the bed, disoriented. Shit, I fell asleep, he thought, remembering his promise earlier. He yawned and was about to stretch to relieve his muscles which felt pretty cramped from sitting up too long when he heard someone hyperventilating. His eyes bulged. "Joe!!"

Joe's eyes were open, blank and unseeing and he was wheezing, his breathing labored and ragged. Frank's hand shot out to hit the call button and he turned his attention back to Joe. He squeezed Joe's arm lightly, trying to reassure Joe that he was safe.

"Joe, it's okay, it's okay," he soothed, "Calm down, just breathe slowly, that's it, slowly..." Frank was overjoyed, if it weren't for all the tubes and wires intertwined all over Joe, he would have thrown his arms around his brother and squeezed the breath out of him. "Joe, I'm here. You're safe now."

Joe calmed down somewhat at his brother's reassuring voice. Just then Dr. Carter and a nurse came in. "What is it? Has something happened to Joe?"

"Yes, he woke up," Frank said happily, squeezing his brother's hand gently. Joe was still unable to speak but the glimmer of recognition in his tired blue eyes was enough for Frank. He was still having trouble breathing, and Dr. Carter noticed that. A while later, Joe's breathing eased with an oxygen mask over his face.

"Well, Joseph, I see you've decided to come back to us." Dr. Carter smiled as he checked Joe's vitals. "Everything looks okay." The doctor patted Frank on his back before leaving the room to return to his routine. "Don't worry, Frank. He'll be as good as new in a couple of days." Frank smiled his thanks, his eyes grateful as they followed the doctor's retreating back as he walked out the door.

Through his mask, Joe mouthed Hi.

"Hi to you too, Joe," Frank said as a rush of happiness coursed through his body. "Hi to you too."

"I hate you, Joe Hardy," she said flatly. But her face belied her words as she dropped everything in her hands and rushed forward, throwing her arms around her boyfriend, overjoyed. Joe chuckled, rising upward a little in his bed as Vanessa showered his face and hair with kisses. Weakness still throbbed deep within his body but just seeing Vanessa sent his spirits soaring.

"Oh, God, Joe you scared me to death," Vanessa whispered huskily into his ears. "I think my hair's turned gray."

"You would still be the most beautiful girl in the world to me," Joe replied. He saw Vanessa's lips beginning to tremble and he realized that she had gone through so much since she'd started being with him. You don't deserve this, Vanessa, he thought, tenderly stroking her cheek. I don't deserve you.

Trembling lips was actually the start to a very teary episode. Big droplets of tears spilled from Vanessa's beautiful blue-gray eyes, rolling slowly down her cheeks as she took Joe's hand and held it to her cheek. Oh God, she loved him so much.

"Hey," Joe chuckled softly. He brushed away Vanessa's tears tenderly. "What are these for, baby?

"Oh, it's nothing," Vanessa said, smiling through her tears. "I just realized I love you so much."

With shaky hands, Joe pulled Vanessa in for another embrace, burying his face into the sweet, flowery scent of her hair, wondering in amusement why it took Vanessa so long to realize that. "Ditto."

"How are you feeling?" Biff asked. He'd decided to drop by and visit Joe at the hospital, equally relieved as Frank and Vanessa at his rapid recovery.

"Okay," Joe shrugged. The truth was he was anxious to get back on his feet again. He was never that big on just lying in bed and feeling sorry for himself. I've got everyone feeling sorry for me already, he thought, looking at the three sympathetic faces hovering over him.

"Frank, get me out of here," he'd pleaded earlier with his brother but as usual, Frank was as merciful as Medusa playing Florence Nightingale. He knew Frank was just worried about him but he felt fine. A little rattled, but fine. He just wished everyone would see that.

"So, have you found out who did this to me?" Joe asked after Biff and Vanessa left to get some lunch, knowing he'd hit a nerve when his brother suddenly tensed and lowered his eyes to the floor.

"Look, Joe-" Frank sat at the foot of the bed, resting a hand on his brother's calf. "I know. It was all my fault and I'm really, really sorry." Frank looked so guilty that if he had told Joe that he put in the poison himself, Joe would have believed him.

Joe just blinked. "What are you talking about?"

Frank lifted his head and looked at his brother, his face so unhappy he looked like he was about to cry. "Remember that day at Ayutthaya?"

"How could I forget?" Joe muttered. "I take back what I said about the food being 'heavenly'. Let me just rephrase it. The food there is not heavenly, it stinks to the heavens." Unconsciously he slid a hand up to his belly. "You saw what it did to my poor stomach."

Frank wasn't finding it funny at all. "You could have died, Joe. I shouldn't have traded with you-" his voice trailed off and he looked down again.

Joe was silent for a few minutes. "You've been on a guilty trip because of that?" Joe asked finally.

Frank didn't answer. He just kept staring at the floor. "Hey." Joe leaned forward and grabbed his arm. "Frank. Look at me."

"I told you I would do it again, didn't I?" Joe said softly, referring to his conversation with Frank the night he almost got killed by an untamed killer automobile. "I don't regret it even for one second, Frank. If I had to do it again, I would. I just don't like to see you hurt, it's as simple as that."

"And you think I like seeing you hurt?" Frank lashed out. "God, Joe, do you know what it felt like to see your own brother lying near death and how-how helpless it made me feel, knowing that I couldn't do anything to save you? And all the while I was wishing that I could trade places with you, I wanted so much to feel your pain, to let you know that you weren't alone. That I would always be there for you." Frank turned his head away before emotion could get the better of him.

"And I for you," Joe answered simply. There was nothing more Joe could say. In that single sentence he had said everything he needed to say. His steady blue eyes met Frank's troubled ones. "Just remember what I said about socks."

Frank stared at his brother for the longest time and eventually, a smile materialized once again on Frank Hardy's face after disappearing for so long. "You bet."

Billy was crying again. He seemed to be doing that a lot lately. But he didn't care. Maliciously he glared at her swollen, bleeding face. If it weren't for that bitch his darling wouldn't be dead. He silently contemplated, wanting so very much to beat her again. Or maybe poison her. Why not?

"Damn you! I told you to take out the brother, not him!" he had screamed at her.

She had kept silent through the whole punching and beating. Even when she lay down on the ground, unable to move, she didn't say a thing.

Oh, what's the use, he thought wearily. Killing her wouldn't bring Joe back. His eyes started to water again at the thought of Joe. His beautiful angel of music.

"Hey, Billy, you can stop bawling now." He rose his head amid the empty beer bottles to see Bobby walk in. Bobby looked down at her and winced. "Ooh, that's gotta hurt. Guess I got the news too late. I would have at least saved that pretty face of yours."

"What news?"

"Turns out your lover boy's not dead after all," Bobby said casually, enjoying the rare moment when he'd somehow managed to get the upper hand. He watched Billy's face turn white and then red as his face broke into a wide grin. "Guess I botched the job again."

"For once in your worthless life, Bobby, you've actually done something good," Billy praised, still too shocked for the good news to sink in. Bobby shrugged. He watched as the larger man stagger toward him and was too late to duck when Billy grabbed the back of his neck.

"Next time you botch a job I will kill you," he hissed in Bobby's ear, his breath hot and fetid. Bobby shuddered. Then Billy straightened up and smiled broadly. "But this time you're forgiven."

Now that Joe was out of danger, Frank had all the time he needed to think. He still didn't know why anyone would want to kill him. They weren't on a particular case, although they had worked a little on the missing senator case. But I don't think I knew so much about it that someone would want to kill me so why? He wondered. He was sitting on one of the benches on the hospital grounds, letting Joe and Vanessa have some time to themselves. Vanessa had come with some news, news Frank didn't know whether to categorize as bad or good. The play had been canceled, a distraught Mr. Weinhardt had announced earlier in school. Part of him was relieved because there would be no more mysterious disappearances on Joe's part, he hoped, and another part of him felt sorry for Joe and the rest of the cast, knowing how hard they had worked on it. Joe was even psyched about acting. Guess we have to rely on mysteries to keep us entertained, little brother, Frank mused, remembering how crest-fallen Joe had been after being told he was not going to act after all.

Back to the unsolved mystery. Who the hell is Billy anyway? And why does he want me dead? And that guy who attacked Joe-what was his name? Bobby? Why did he go after my brother when they've obviously poisoned the wrong guy? The endless questions were wreaking havoc in Frank's head. So many questions, and no answer to any of them. Great.

With a sigh, Frank rose and dusted the seat of his pants. He'd better get back to Joe. Vanessa had an appointment with a dentist for her monthly check-up this afternoon at 2. A look at his watch told Frank it was a quarter past 2. She would be gone by now and Frank was still more than a little reluctant to leave Joe by himself in his hospital room although it was still guarded 24 hours. He felt it was only natural to worry over Joe. Somebody's got to do the worrying, he thought. So why not me?

"Hey, Joe, you hungry? Why don't I-" Frank's words died at his lips as he stepped inside Joe's room. The stranger sitting by Joe's bed turned his head around. It was Gary Weinhardt.

Pain PG