Thank you for all of the wonderful reviews. I like it that you are voicing your concerns and are coming up with your own ideas about what could happen next. Keep it up!

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Johnny Allen was a very nervous man, for a number of reasons. Depending on who you asked, he had just done a very bad thing. Something that in one way or another, was going to land him in some very hot water.

He had a multitude of feelings going through his mind right now–anger, fear, nervousness, anxiety, and hatred. And they were all fighting for the top spot. Now only if he could stop his body from shaking so much. But that wasn't easy considering it wasn't even cold outside; it was just complete nerves that were causing his body to behave this way.

Barry sensed his brother's uneasiness and looked over at him. "Are you okay, Johnny?"

Johnny managed to stop shaking long enough to glare at Barry. "How can you ask me that? I just killed a woman who begged for her life."

Barry let out a chuckle. "It's nothing to cry home about, Johnny," he said. "I remember it bothered me on my first kill, too. But, now...I find the screams as some sort of an unexplainable high."

Johnny looked at his brother, his face a mixture of fear and astonishment. How could he have not known what a monster his brother truly was? Had he always been like this? Was he on his way to become his brother?

No! the reasonable voice in his head told him. You are nowhere near what he is!

Barry saw his brother's expression and tsked. "Come on, brother. Dr. Stan said you should never keep your feelings bottled up."

Johnny rolled his eyes and for the first time that night he felt a smile tug on his lips. "Dr. Stan was a crackpot-Dr. Phil-wannabe hoping that someday Oprah was going to discover him as well."

Barry laughed. "I don't see how Mom thought he would be able to help us."

"She didn't want us to become like Dad," Johnny said.

There was silence between the brothers as they each thought back to their father. He had been nothing but a lowlife alcoholic who got his kicks by beating them on a daily basis. To say they were happy when he was killed in a traffic accident a few years back, would be an understatement.

The silence remained for a few more moments until Johnny finally broke it. "Why do you do this, Barry?"

"Do what?" Barry asked, glancing over at his brother.

"You know what," Johnny said, a little irritated.

Barry turned his eyes back to the road and let out a sigh. "The pay doesn't suck. Besides, no one wants to give a high school dropout a chance."

"So you make up for that by killing innocent people?" Johnny asked.

"Who says they are innocent?" Barry asked

"You can't honestly tell me that girl tonight wasn't innocent," Johnny said.

"Did you even know who that girl was?" Barry asked.

Johnny shook his head. "Should I?"

Barry nodded his head. "That's right–you refuse to watch the news or pick up a newspaper."

"There are too many bad things happening in the world," Johnny argued. "Why should I remind myself of that everyday?"

"Well, let me offer my congratulations to you, Johnny-boy," Barry said, smiling at his brother. "You just offed one of River Heights's most beloved citizens."

"What?" Johnny asked.

"Nancy Drew–a.k.a the-greatest-girl-detective-the-world-has-ever-known," Barry said, as if he was an anchor on a morning TV show. "But on the plus side, you just did criminals everywhere a great justice. In fact, you may have just committed the Holy Grail of all murders."

Johnny was confused as Barry pulled up in front of his house. "What are you talking about?" he asked.

Barry put the car in "PARK" and turned to face his brother. "You have no idea how many people have dreamed of getting their hands on her. You're going to be a legend, idolized for years to come."

Johnny couldn't believe what he was hearing. He didn't want to be known as the man who had killed Nancy Drew. So, what had he just done?

"So, tell me, bother–how does it feel to know you hold that much power?" Barry asked and clapped his brother on the back. "Turn on the news, Johnny–you're about to be famous."

Johnny opened the car door and got out. Before he could walk too far away, Barry called out to him. "Tell Livvie and the girls I said hi."

Johnny heard Barry chuckle and drive off. He watched as the car's taillights faded into the distance.

He unlocked the door to his house and was instantly greeted by darkness. The only light he could make out was the faint light emerging from the kitchen. He looked at the wall clock hanging above the microwave and saw that it was nearly midnight.

Inwardly, he was glad that Livvie and the girls were asleep. He didn't think he could face anyone at the moment, especially not Livvie. He needed time to collect his thoughts and to figure out what he was going to do next.

Johnny tiptoed quietly throughout the house and stopped in front of the room that his two daughters, Lyndsey and Abby, shared. He opened the door to see the two of them sleeping peacefully, oblivious to the world around them.

His heart ached as he watched the two of them sleep, clutching to their matching teddy bears. Born five years ago, the twins were his life. How could you do it, Johnny? the voice that had been bothering him all night, asked. You may have robbed that poor woman of ever experiencing the joy of her own family. Why couldn't you just let her go?

Johnny pushed the voice away, and kissed each of the girls on the forehead. He then quietly slipped out of the room, shutting the door behind him. He opened the door to his own bedroom, being careful not to wake Livvie. He slipped into the bathroom and turned on the shower.

He looked down at his hands to see that they were covered in blood. Funny, he hadn't noticed that before. If only you could wash the whole night away, right Johnny? the voice piped up again.

Why can't you just leave me alone? Johnny asked the voice.

Why couldn't you just walk away? the voice countered.

Johnny grabbed the bar of soap and started to scrub his body vigorously until his skin felt as if it was raw. Do you honestly think you can just scrub everything away? the voice taunted him.

I have to do something! Johnny thought, wildly. Why can't you just go away? I didn't shoot her!

Maybe not, the voice replied. But that knock on her head isn't doing her any good.

But I didn't kill her! Johnny protested.

How do you know? Is it just because you say you didn't? the voice asked. Go ahead, wash her blood off your hands, Johnny. Make it appear as if nothing happened tonight.

What am I supposed to do? Johnny demanded as he stepped out of the shower. He grabbed a towel and stood in front of the mirror.

You know what you need to do, the voice said gently. Do it for Livvie and the girls. Don't let the girls grow up, knowing that their father was a monster.

Johnny put on some boxers and a T-shirt and slipped into bed beside Livvie. The voice is right, he thought. I have to tell them what I've done.

He felt Livvie shift beside him. "You're home late. Is everything okay?" she asked, softly.

Johnny looked at his wife and gave her a soft kiss. "It will be," he said.

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"Are you here for Nancy Drew?"

Carson, Frank, and Joe looked up as a tall man, with light brown hair and wearing a lab coat approached them.

Carson nodded and stood up. He held out his hand to the man. "I'm her father–Carson Drew."

The other man grabbed his hand and shook it warmly. "I'm Dr. Lionel Troy."

"Dr. Troy, how is my daughter?" Carson asked.

Dr. Troy glanced at the brothers and Carson nodded his head. "It's okay. This is her fiancé," he said, pointing to Frank. "Frank Hardy and his brother, Joe."

Dr. Troy nodded and indicated that they should sit down. Carson immediately felt a stab of fear. "Is there something wrong?" he asked.

Dr. Troy sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "Your daughter is suffering from a severe concussion and she's lost a great amount of blood. She also has a couple of cracked ribs, numerous cuts and bruises, and is also suffering from severe dehydration."

"But what happened to her?" Frank asked.

"From what we can gather, we figure that she was hit with a blunt instrument. We also estimate that she had been out there for a few hours before she was found, because of the amount of blood loss. We believe that whoever hit her meant to kill her and as a result of that, she's now in a coma," Dr. Troy explained, carefully.

"Coma?" Carson asked, shocked. "How long will it last?"

"We think she will eventually wake up, but the thing you must understand with comas is that there is no way to predict how long they may last," Dr. Troy explained. "They can last anywhere from hours, days, weeks, months, or even years."

"But the sooner she wakes up, the better, right?" Joe asked, voicing everyone's concerns.

Dr. Troy nodded soberly. "That's what we're hoping for. But from everything that I've heard about Nancy, I have no doubt that she'll pull through it."

"Can we see her?" Carson asked.

Dr. Troy hesitated, but when he saw the desperate looks he was receiving from Frank and Carson, he relented. "One at a time and only for ten minutes. She needs to rest and build her strength back up. She's in the ICU ward in room number two."

Carson looked at Frank and Frank nodded at him. "You go ahead. She needs to hear your voice."

Carson flashed him a grateful smile and stepped onto the elevator. The brothers watched as the numbers lit up above the elevator.

Frank ran his hands over his tired face and let out a long breath Joe figured he had been holding since they got the phone call about Nancy.

Joe leaned back in his own seat and glanced at his brother. "How are you doing, Frank?" he asked.

Frank looked at Joe. He seemed to really think about that question before he answered. "Scared."

That surprised Joe and it must have shown all over his face.

"I know I should say that I'm happy," Frank said. "And don't get me wrong, Joe. I am extremely happy to have her back, but..." his voice trailed off.

"But what?" Joe prodded, gently.

"I get this cold feeling all over. A part of me is saying that it's going to get worse before it gets better," Frank explained.

"I've said it before and I'll say it again, Frank–you have got to quit being so damn pessimistic," Joe said.

"I'm not being pessimistic, I'm being reasonable," Frank said. "Why fill myself with false hope? I've done that before with Nancy and was brought down quicker than a ton of bricks."

"But it turned out well in the end," Joe pointed out.

Frank nodded. "All with luck, though. And I get the feeling that we've had too many lucky situations."

"Again with the pessimism," Joe said, rolling his eyes. "You know, I could come up with a drinking game with this. Every time you think the worst about something, I take a shot."

Frank rolled his own eyes in response.

"You know, research shows that optimists live longer than pessimists," Joe said.

"What's your point?" Frank asked, annoyed.

"Do you want to be cremated or buried six feet under?" Joe asked.

Frank got up from his chair and grabbed a magazine. He sat down a few chairs from Joe and flipped through it in frustration.

A few minutes later, the elevator doors opened and Carson emerged. Frank put down his magazine and stood up. He nodded at Frank and Frank didn't waste any time. He got in the elevator and before he reached Nancy's floor, he made a detour to the gift/florist shop. There, he bought a huge bouquet of white daisies. He got back into the elevator and rode it the remaining three floors to the ICU ward.

He smiled at the desk nurse and made his way to Nancy's door. He quietly pushed the door open and slipped inside. The only light in the room was that of the sunlight filtering through the blinds. He put down the vase of flowers on the table beside Nancy's bed and finally got his first glimpse of the woman he hadn't seen in a week.

He felt his heart ache. He had seen her with a few cuts and bruises, and even once, with a broken leg–but this–this was unlike anything that he had ever seen.

Nancy's head was covered with gauze and she had two IV's in her arm. Frank breathed a small sigh of relief when he saw that she was at least breathing on her own.

As he listened to the rhythmic sound of the heart monitor, it was right then when he realized how grave her situation was. Who could have done such a thing to such a strong, beautiful woman?

Frank sat down in the chair beside the bed and grabbed Nancy's hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"I'm here, baby," he whispered softly and gave her hand a kiss. "I'm so sorry that I wasn't there to stop this. I promise you, I will never leave you again."

Frank could feel tears stinging the back of his eyelids and fought them back. "You've got to wake up for me. We have a wedding to plan and you know I can't do it. We have a future ahead of us–a home, kids. I want your face to be the last I see every night. I want to grow old with you, Nancy Drew."

Frank chuckled as another thought came to him. "Besides, I need you around to help keep Joe in line."

He glanced up as a nurse opened the door and peeked her head in. "I'm sorry, sir. But she really needs to get her rest."

Frank nodded at he nurse and she gave him a small smile. She closed the door and he turned back to Nancy.

"Don't worry–I'll be back as soon as I can," he said. He stood up and kissed her softly on the forehead. "I love you," he whispered.

Before Frank opened the door, he turned for one last look at Nancy. "I'm going to find the person that did this to you, Nan. Even if it takes my last breath. I won't rest until this bastard is brought to justice."

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Author's note: Okay, as you can see, Nancy was not shot. I didn't really feel comfortable with shooting her, and I kind of wanted Johnny to have something of a heart, even though he did hurt her. But Johnny is also filled with remorse for what he has done because he never wanted to do that.

I do have quite a bit of the story already written and I am writing when I have available opportunities, so I am trying to update as often as possible.

Please review!