Note: Thank you so much to those following the story, and especially for those of you who took the time to leave reviews. You are much appreciated! To that end, thank you to Paulina Ann, EvergreenDreamweaver, Caranath, max 2013, Erin Jordan, and BMSH for your reviews on the last chapter.

The Path to Gratitude

Chapter 4

As soon as could pull himself out of the initial shock at the station, Joe had told both Collig and his father about the work that he had done on Callie's car. He walked them through the procedure, explained how he had changed the brake pads and rotors and even put new caliper bolts on the front brakes because the old ones just weren't tight enough. He told them how he had done numerous brake jobs throughout the years and he was always careful. He was especially careful with Callie, he'd thought, because Frank had asked him to take care of her, and he had given his word that he would do so. He had double and triple checked his work, to make sure that it was done correctly; he had even taken the car for a quick test drive to make sure it handled properly.

But he'd been so tired. He'd been exhausted. He'd been sick. Those were the fears that raced through his mind as he told his father and Collig what had transpired.

Joe found he could not meet his father's eyes as he confessed. It was like he was six years old and in trouble. Even then, he'd been more concerned about disappointing his father than any punishment that could have been inflicted upon him.

When he did look up, he noticed that Collig was no longer there. Here he was, alone with his father.

"Oh, Joe," Fenton sighed. He hugged Joe, who fought back tears that were threatening to spill over. "It's… it WILL be, I mean… okay." Gently, he released him.

"I'm sorry, Dad," Joe replied, not trusting himself with more words.

"I know," Fenton answered. "This just isn't like you. Were you distracted? You said you checked it out yourself, right?"

Joe could only nod.

"Okay. Well, I guess we'll just have to wait for the report from the garage, which takes a few hours. Who knows?" Fenton asked with forced optimism. "Maybe it was nothing you did. I mean, if you checked, and I'm sure you did, maybe Callie did have some sort of medical episode."

"Maybe." Joe could only muster responses in a clipped tone, not trusting his voice not to betray all of his emotions. He coughed a few times before again meeting his father's gaze.

"Let's not put the cart before the horse, then," Fenton concluded logically, squeezing Joe's shoulder. "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it." Fenton managed a small smile. "I can't think of any more cliches right now."

Joe fought back the tears. "Yeah, well…"

Fenton continued. "I think I'll head back to the hospital. Let's see what happens with the report. You go home and rest for a few hours. I know you'll want to come back to the hospital later."

"Any updates on Callie?"

"No," Fenton answered, checking his phone again for any texts from Laura or Frank. "But no news is good news."

Joe managed a dark chuckle in spite of himself. He weakly responded, when he saw Fenton's questioning look. "I think you found your third cliche."

Fenton reached over to give Joe one more quick hug. "Third time's a charm." Winking at Joe, he repeated, "Go home. Rest." Suddenly more somber, he added, "Really. We all need to hold it together right now."

As Joe followed his father out of the station, he couldn't help but to wonder how he could hold it together when everything was so quickly falling apart.

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The call came with the certainty that night would be followed by day. Ever since Collig's speculation that something mechanically had been wrong in Callie's car that may have caused her accident, he had known it was true.

Looking down at his cell phone, he saw the familiar number appear.

"Hello?" Joe asked tentatively, picking up with trembling fingers.

"Joe?" He heard Collig's familiar voice at the other end.

"Any news?" he managed.

"Actually, yes," Collig replied. Joe could hear the strain in his voice. "The report just came back from the garage. Did you say you had replaced the caliper bolts on the front brakes with new ones?"

Joe's voice was shaky. "Yes."

"Simmonds, the lead investigator, said both front calipers had fallen off the car."

"What?! That… that's just not possible. I mean, that doesn't happen!"

"Well, it did this time. They found both calipers almost half a mile behind where Callie's car finally came to rest.".

"I...I don't understand."

"They're still looking for the bolts." There was an awkward silence. "Simmonds said the only way the calipers could come loose is if the bolts weren't installed properly."

"But, they were. At least… I thought they were. I double checked them. The whole reason I put new caliper bolts on was because the old ones were loose."

Collig's voice was softer. "Are you sure you put new ones on? Are you sure you didn't put the old ones back on by mistake?"

"Yes. I mean…" Joe felt sick. "I thought I did."

"We're still investigating. We want to find those bolts, but it seems pretty clear they were the cause of the crash." An awkward silence hung heavy between them. "I'm sorry, Joe. I just wanted to be the first to confirm your suspicions."

Suddenly feeling light-headed, Joe realized that he had forgotten to breathe as he heard the inevitable words. "Okay," he managed.

After a considerable pause, he heard Collig continue. "Joe, I know this is an incredibly difficult time for your family right now, but I have no choice but to inform the Shaws about what's happened. They can," Collig cleared his throat before continuing, "I mean, they have a right to, uh…" With a resigned sigh, Collig finished. "They have a right to file a civil suit against you, Joe. I don't know that they can, or they will, or what they'll think at all. But I wanted to let you know that that possibility does exist. I'm sorry, Son," he repeated.

Managing a feeble "thanks," he pressed the button to end the call. Thanks. Your life is ruined and all you can say is 'thanks.' Joe swallowed the lump in his throat as he fought back a cough. He didn't even care that Callie's parents could sue him; it was the least of his problems. Callie could die. She could die. The thought again cut him to his core.

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"This can't be happening." It was a sentiment that Joe found himself muttering over and over again as he opened the door to the home he shared with Vanessa. Wearily, he made his way to their bedroom, where he grabbed an extra sweatshirt to throw over the shirt he was wearing to fight the chills starting to take over his body.

Coughing, he went to the medicine cabinet and grabbed several Tylenols which he hastily finished. It hurt. Everything hurt: his body, his mind, his conscience, his entire being. Catching sight of himself in the mirror, he saw staring back at him a much older, more strained version of himself.

I'm not the only one hurting, he chastised himself mentally. And he knew what had to be done.

Somehow, he had to tell Vanessa, Frank, the Shaws, and his parents that he was the one responsible for Callie's accident. He was the reason that Callie might die. As unspeakable as it was, he knew he had to take responsibility for what had occurred.

Shakily, he walked to the exit of his home, pausing for a few long moments. The very real knowledge that this might be the last time he was allowed back hit him hard. Still, he owed it to everyone to admit to what he'd done, if only because they deserved to know the truth. The bitterness that he had only tried to help had long since been replaced by horrible disappointment in himself that he had been so careless, and the very real fear that he would lose those closest to him who could not help but to blame him.

It didn't matter anyway. He had to do the right thing. Slowly, he closed the door. He didn't look back.

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He couldn't avoid it now. Joe checked his watch that read 9:00 p.m. Because of the seriousness of Callie's condition and her presence in the ICU, the term "visiting hours" was more of a suggestion than a fact. He would talk to Vanessa later; she had left for the night at his parents' insistence, already planning her return early tomorrow morning. He had spoken with his own parents earlier, who, though shocked, had been predictably supportive. He knew that by now, the Shaws would have received the phone call from Collig, and that he would have to speak with them personally when he saw them. THAT conversation would be painful.

But it was this one that he was dreading the most.

He found Frank in the worst possible location; right inside Callie's room. Joe took a deep breath before, again, halting a coughing fit. Well, that was subtle.

Frank looked up. He had been standing by Callie's bed, fingers loosely intertwined in hers.

Joe caught his breath. The room was eerily silent, exacerbated only by the constant heart monitor and machinery whirring in the background. IVs, needles, doctors' notes all around. It was standard for Joe and Frank, but not for their loved ones. It was wrong. Callie was very pale, covered in bruises and scrapes, with a bandage wound tightly around her head. This is surreal. She doesn't belong here. It was all he could do to turn from Callie to meet Frank's stare.

Frank walked over to him and motioned him to the other side of the room. Then he saw it; the slight twitch in his brother's jaw. It took only a moment for Joe to recognize that his brother was angry and moving away from Callie. He's trying to protect her, he realized at once. From me?!

"Dad told me," Frank replied, voice deadly calm.

Joe hadn't been expecting that. "I… uh…" He was stammering, coughing, caught totally off guard.

"How could you, Joe?" Frank grabbed his arm, forcefully. "How could you let this happen?" His brother's eyes were boring into him.

"I don't know," Joe managed, finally. "I checked, Frank. I did!" He emphasized, desperate to make sure that Frank understood. "I keep thinking of what I could have done wrong. I checked it. I double checked it. I even test drove her car. I would never hurt Callie, Frank- you know that."

Frank didn't let go of his arm, squeezing tighter. Joe saw the agony in Frank's eyes, the way he was trying with all his might to control his temper, and it crushed him. If disappointing his father was bad, disappointing his big brother was a thousand times worse. He was almost speechless.

"But Joe," Frank continued, finally freeing his arm. "You DID hurt Callie. She…" Frank cleared his throat, coughing back tears. "She trusted you. I trusted you. If you couldn't take care of her car properly… if you didn't have time…" Each phase was choked out as Frank struggled for control. "Why didn't you just tell me? Why, Joe? WHY?" Frank's voice rose as his lips quivered.

Joe's heart broke. He couldn't remember ever seeing Frank so upset. Knowing he was the cause of it was unbearable. Frank wanted answers and he honestly had none to give. "I'm sorry, Frank. I'm so sorry." He could barely think.

"YOU'RE sorry?" Frank flushed with anger, his hands grabbing Joe by the jacket and shoving him into the wall. "YOU are sorry?" Frank was inches from his face. "Callie is hurt, Joe. IF she makes it through the next 48 hours and she doesn't DIE, then she may have have irreversible brain damage and she may never be the same. Of course," he spat out, "now I have been forced to make a decision that, should she NOT make it," Frank was shaking so badly he actually looked like he would explode, "I will have to live with for the rest of my life. But YOU are sorry."

Joe didn't flinch, determined to take whatever Frank needed to give. "I... I am, Frank. I'm so sorry." He repeated the words, knowing they sounded so hollow.

Frank tensed even more and released his right hand. Out of the corner of his eye, Joe saw it curl into a fist. Joe swallowed hard and prepared for the punch he thought he deserved.

Before Frank could follow through, he caught sight of Callie out of the corner of his eye and, almost as suddenly as it had started, all the fight left him. Frank let go of Joe's jacket, walked to the chair next to Callie's bedside, and weakly sat down.

"I don't know what I can ever say to you to make up for this," Joe managed. He had nothing left but the truth. Walking to his brother, he continued, unable to control his tears."I am not making any excuses," he started. "I did this. I didn't mean to do it, but I did it." Joe choked back a sob. "I love Callie and I love you. And I'm sorry - I'm so, so sorry- that I did this. I can't make it better and I can't go back. And I'm not going to ask you to forgive me because I will NEVER forgive myself." He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. "You're right," Joe continued. "With everything you said. If I couldn't have done it correctly, I shouldn't have done it. It doesn't matter that I thought I had done my best, because I obviously didn't. I'm gonna go now. I don't think I should be here."

"Joe. No- wait." He heard his brother's voice behind him as he exited the room, but he didn't pause. It was too late now to look back and turn around. In more ways than one.