A/N: I hope that the timeline isn't confusing on this, but for this chapter I'm going to go back a little ways so we can hear what Frank says to Joe when he comes out of the kitchen. If you have any questions, please ask! Also, heads up…Frank's in for some tough love this chapter…and I really enjoyed writing it. :D …evil grin… Hopefully nobody's too upset that people are kind of mean to him…but not really mean.

And while I'm at it I might as well apologize for the weightiness of this chapter…it's rather…wordy.

Okay, enough of that. Thank you so much for all of the wonderful reviews! You guys make me smile! Enjoy!

Four Times Too Many

Chapter Ten

"Hey Joe," Frank said as he walked out of the kitchen and tried to look nonchalant as he sat at his desk.

"Hey back," Joe replied and looked busy checking his e-mail. "What's up?"

"I was just…thinking…" okay, so maybe he wasn't as prepared for this conversation as he thought he was. He cleared his throat and tried again, "Nancy sort of mentioned that you've been a little worried about me."

"That's right," Joe said with his eyes still fixed to his computer screen.

"Oh," Frank ran a hand through his hair, "well, there's no need. I'm fine…I'm mostly worried about you and how you're handling this."

Joe finally turned to look at his brother, "Frank, I'm okay when you're okay. It's that simple. When I know that you're okay, I'm able to deal with anything."

"Hm," Frank hadn't been expecting this. "Well, I'm okay."

"No you aren't," Joe said and turned his attention back to his computer.

Frank didn't know what to say to that and so he turned to face his own computer. It took him two full minutes of reading the same sentence over and over before he turned quickly back to Joe, "what makes you say that?" he demanded. "I haven't been acting abnormally, I've been here for you, and I listened to you when you told me about your fears and the nightmares. I've been calling dad just as often as you have to see if he can pull any strings as far as Vanessa is concerned," Frank threw his hands up in frustration. "I've been just as annoyingly overbearing as usual!"

"That's true," Joe said with a smile and then his face grew serious, "but underneath it all you're brooding about something. Your eyes are a dead giveaway Frank, they always have been."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Frank said unconvincingly and deliberately looked away, "we're all stressed about this trial…"

Joe cut him off, "exactly, we're all stressed about this trial…about what's happening now. I've got a sneaking suspicion that you're still stressed about what happened five weeks ago."

"Of course I'm still stressed about what happened five weeks ago!" Frank exploded and pushed himself quickly out of his chair. He paced across the room and back, "why the hell wouldn't I be? Aren't you?"

"Frank, I'm worried about what's happening here and now," Joe said angrily and stood quickly to his feet to face his brother. "It took me a long time to start to move on from what happened in that warehouse, but the point is…I faced it and I started the process of moving on. It doesn't take a genius to see that you're still stuck back in that warehouse, agonizing over your momentary lapse into acting like a normal human being and wanting to kill Atkinson." When Joe was finished he was practically yelling.

The silence that followed Joe's outburst was thick and heavy and Frank found that his hands had clenched into fists, "you don't know anything about that, anything."

"That's right, I don't," Joe spat back, "because you're too stubborn, too worried about what people will think of you to talk to me about it. You expect me to come to you with my worries, with my problems and you don't show me the same courtesy. Well, screw that." Joe grabbed his jacket off the hook and threw it on, "I'm leaving. Call me when you get it through that thick head of yours that it's not a requirement of being a big brother that you suffer alone." Joe stalked to the front door and slammed it behind him.

Frank stood staring after his brother, not sure of what to do next. He realized that his nails were digging into his palms and he deliberately tried to relax his hands. "Damnit!" he yelled and in an extremely rare show of temper, he slammed his fist into the wall. He barely noticed the pain shoot up his hand as he turned and walked quickly from room to room, locking up for the night.

Technically closing time wasn't for another hour but at that point Frank didn't care. In another rare move Frank grabbed his jacket from where it had hung next to Joe's and left the office early for the first time in years.

What was wrong with Joe? Spewing all this nonsense about being stressed about what was happening right now. Weren't the events of a month ago directly tied to the trial happening now? "Stupid," Frank muttered to himself and slammed into his car, "stupid, stupid, stupid." He slammed his hand on his steering wheel as he started the car.

And what was all this nonsense about suffering alone? It was his job as a big brother to protect Joe, to be there for him unconditionally and damnit, he wasn't going to change that or apologize for it. "Ungrateful idiot," Frank murmured, "I just…I can't believe." He was still angry when he pulled into his driveway, noting that Nancy's car wasn't there.

He had a moment of panic before he remembered her plan B as far as Maggie was concerned. He felt a little guilty that he was relieved that Nancy wouldn't be home for awhile, it would give him some time to work off some of his mad.

Of course, once he found himself inside he didn't know what to do with himself. He spent a restless couple of minutes on the couch flipping channels before getting up and wandering into the kitchen. He put the breakfast dishes in the dishwasher before going upstairs to see if the bed had been made.

After he made the bed he wandered into the closet and grabbed the laundry hamper. Nancy was going to go into cardiac arrest when she saw how many chores he had done he thought to himself as he shoved clothes into the washer.

He glanced at the clock, the chores hadn't taken up nearly as much time as he thought they would and he was still mad. "So much for the thought that chores will take your mind off things," Frank muttered angrily to himself. He went back into the bedroom and changed into a t-shirt and shorts before heading back downstairs and out to the basketball hoop.

Twenty minutes later Frank was beginning to break a satisfying sweat as he lined up for a difficult three point shot. He released the ball and watched as it sunk into the net, "swish!" a deep voice called from the side of the house.

Frank retrieved the ball and looked over for the owner of the voice, Biff Hooper stood at the back gate, "Hey Biff" he said and took another shot.

Biff unlatched the back gate and walked over to Frank, "I knocked on the door but got no answer, then I heard the ball, then I heard the swearing. Do you know that you're back here talking to yourself? It sounded like you were cursing Joe."

"I probably was," Frank answered aggressively and passed the ball to Biff who turned and lined up for the shot.

"That's interesting," Biff commented and caught the rebound before passing it back to Frank.

"Interesting?" Frank grunted as he shot the ball again.

"Yeah, interesting because that's not something that happens every day," Biff took another shot.

"No, I guess it doesn't," Frank said and put his hands on his knees to give himself a minute to catch his breath.

"You want to talk about it?" Biff asked casually.

"Not exactly," Frank grimaced, "I'm still too mad and I don't want to accidentally punch you by proxy."

Biff laughed, "That's very considerate of you."

"I try," Frank caught the ball when Biff passed it to him and took another shot. "So, what brings you by?"

"I was looking for Nancy actually," Biff said and caught the ball, "wanted to ask her how Maggie was doing."

"Maggie?" Frank asked, "Last I heard she was doing okay, considering."

"Yeah," Biff's eyes grew dark, "I can't believe we employed that bastard."

"Hey, you had no way of knowing," Frank pointed out.

"Still, I met her yesterday. Dad, Uncle Jeff and I went to lunch at the café. I knew something was up with her," Biff shook his head, "we all knew John had a temper."

"Nancy's been trying to get her to press charges for a week now," Frank said, "it's a relief that she finally is. On top of assaulting a police officer, I'd say John's got a big problem on his hands."

"How's Nancy doing?" Biff asked.

"Stubborn," Frank shook his head, "stubborn woman. She won't take her pain pills; I have to practically tie her down to get her to take them."

"Sounds kind of like Joe," Biff commented.

Frank laughed, "Yeah exactly like Joe."

"Is it true John's bail hearing is tomorrow?" Biff asked.

Frank shot him a look, "since when were you so in the know?"

Biff shrugged, "I'm the son of the only contractor in town, I have some pull."

Frank laughed, "Sure. Which lady cop did you swindle the info out of?"

"None of your business," Biff replied, "so, is it tomorrow or not?"

"Yeah, it's tomorrow," Frank took another shot.

"I'd like to go with you," Biff said and caught the ball, "you're going right?"

"We're going," Frank confirmed.

"Good, I'll see you there," Biff passed the ball to Frank and started back across the lawn, "and Frank?"

"Yeah?" Frank paused in the middle of shooting the ball.

"Whatever Joe did to make you mad, he probably had a reason for it," Biff laughed at Frank's stunned expression, "Joe doesn't start fights he doesn't believe in."

"You're right," Frank said slowly, "thanks Biff."

"No problem, see you tomorrow," Biff turned and walked out of the backyard, closing the gate behind him.

Biff's parting words left something for Frank to think about. Even though he had worked off most of his anger playing basketball he still felt the dregs of annoyance jittering through his system.

How could he explain exactly what he was feeling? What did Joe know about it? Nothing, he didn't know anything about it, about the horrible weight he felt on his shoulders. He walked back into the house and went upstairs to take a shower. When he was finished he climbed out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist. He frowned down at his phone and saw that the message light was blinking.

Checking the recently missed calls list he saw that the message was from Nancy and she had called back when he had first gone outside to play basketball. He hit the voicemail key and listened to her message.

"Hey Frank, its Nancy, I was just calling to let you know, turns out Maggie didn't go for my plan after all so I'll be here for awhile. We're going to watch a chick flick and trash talk men." Frank could hear pans clanging in the background and guessed she was doing something in the kitchen, "Geez, this girl's kitchen is bizarrely clean, it's really unnatural. Anyway, I'll be home in a few hours, hope your day went okay." She sounded a little too smug for Frank's liking at that last sentence. Did Nancy know about what happened with Joe earlier?

Hm, it was something to think about.

The message ended and he hung up the phone. He walked into the other room and quickly changed, now what was he supposed to do? Normally Frank would have called Joe, seen if he wanted to go to the gym or come over and watch…whatever was on TV but that option was out. It was out unless Frank wanted to call Joe and tell him he was right and he was nowhere ready to do that.

So, Frank settled down on the bed to finish reading his book. Ten minutes later he was having a hard time concentrating on the book because he already knew how it ended. What was the point of reading something if you already knew the ending?

Frank closed the book and his eyes fell on the book on Nancy's side table. He reached over and picked it up. He read the back cover and frowned, it didn't sound half bad actually. He flipped open the front cover and was soon completely absorbed in the story.

Frank barely registered the sound of the garage door opening an hour later as he waited anxiously to see if the heroine of the book would get there in time to save the man she loved. "She has to," Frank muttered almost angrily, "he can't just die."

"Hello?" Nancy called as she walked up the stairs.

"Hey," Frank replied distracted.

Nancy walked into the room and laughed. "Are you reading my book?" she asked.

"Yes," Frank replied as his eyes flew across the page, "and before you say anything, it's not just a romance, it's a thriller romance."

"Of course, I know that," Nancy laughed and walked across the room to sit on the bed next to Frank, "let me know when you're past the suspenseful part."

"Okay," Frank said and was completely silent for the next three minutes. When he put the book down he let out a loud sigh of relief, "Good, he didn't die."

"Who, Brody?" Nancy asked.

"No, Grayson," Frank replied, "wait, Brody might die too?"

Nancy mimed zipping her lips, "my lips are sealed."

Frank groaned, "Now I have to know what happens with Brody. It's going to be a late night."

Nancy laughed and leaned over, "now what about my 'welcome home love of my life' kiss?"

Frank leaned over and was happy to oblige, "there, all better?"

"Nearly," Nancy said and pulled Frank's face back to hers. "Hm, there…that's better." She got up off the bed and walked toward the closet to change. "So, how was your day?" she called from the closet.

There was that tone again, just a little too smug. Frank instantly grew suspicious, "good, yours?"

"It was nice to get Maggie home and spend time with her. She's a fascinating woman and I can't wait until she realizes that she can do anything now, be anything." Nancy walked back into the bedroom, "your day was good? That's all I'm going to get?"

"I filed some paperwork, started on some more, we got a few phone calls for cases, I tried my dad again, nothing big," Frank shrugged and grew even more suspicious when Nancy's eyebrows came together in confusion, "what?"

"You didn't…talk to Joe?" she asked.

"Of course I talked to Joe, I work with Joe," Frank replied and thought 'ah ha! So Nancy and Joe are working together. Very sneaky.'

"Hmm," Was all Nancy said as she turned slowly to go into the bathroom. He smiled when he heard her mutter something darkly under her breath. It sounded a lot like, "good one Joe."

Frank got up off the bed and walked over to lean in the doorway. He watched as Nancy finished brushing her teeth and started washing her face, "why are you grumpy all of a sudden?"

"No reason," Nancy replied and shrugged. Then she sighed and leaned down to rinse off her face, "actually, I'm a little confused. I thought you and Joe were going to talk this afternoon."

"We did," Frank folded his arms across his chest.

"You did?" now Nancy was confused, "what did you guys talk about?"

Frank told her and Nancy sighed, "good."

"Good? You're glad he pissed me off?" Frank asked.

"Yes, actually," Nancy replied and start to rub lotion on her arms.

"Why?" Frank couldn't believe it.

"Because you need a good kick in the ass," Nancy said and took out her earrings. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No," Frank said stubbornly, "I really don't."

"Fine," Nancy sailed quickly past him but not before Frank saw the angry look in her eyes.

He turned quickly and grabbed her arm, "what are you mad about? If I don't feel like talking about it, I don't feel like talking about it. That's my business."

Nancy's eyes flashed, "Frank, I've let you not talk about it for five weeks now. I'm done." She pulled her arm out of his grasp and walked to the bed. She pulled the covers back and got under them, laying on her side and turning out her side lamp.

Frank walked to the opposite side of the bed and sat down. Now he had two people mad at him? The two people in the world who mattered most? He sighed, "Nancy."

"I'm sleeping," she replied stiffly.

"Nancy," he said again and laid a hand on her rigid shoulder.

"I'm still sleeping," she said stubbornly.

"I'm sorry," Frank said quietly.

Nancy groaned and turned to face him, "you sure do know how to suck the wind right out of my sails. Why can't you just be a normal man and never apologize for anything?"

"Again, sorry…that's not part of my personality," Frank smiled a little.

"Don't I know it," Nancy pushed herself up into a sitting position, "you didn't even let me stew very long. Jerk."

Frank laughed, "Sorry, do you want to go back to stewing and I'll re-apologize in ten minutes?"

Nancy sighed, "No, you've gone and ruined it now." She smiled at him and then reached for his hand, "please Frank, I want to be here for you. I need to be here for you."

Frank had never thought of it that way that Nancy could need to support him as much as he felt he needed to support everyone else. It was that realization alone, that he understood exactly how she was feeling that had him taking the first shaky step. "Nan…I don't know if I can explain this very well."

"Try," Nancy urged.

And so he told her.

And once he told her the flood just wouldn't stop. He told her all about the dreams that had plagued him all month long, about the crushing guilt and hatred he felt toward himself for even a minute considering killing Greg Atkinson. He told her in detail what happened in the warehouse, how if Joe hadn't stopped him he really would have killed Greg. When he was finished he was shocked that he was near tears and his hands were shaking. Having everything bottled up inside of him so long was really taking its toll on him. "Worst of all," he finished, "I was worried about what you guys would think of me."

Nancy had stayed silent for Frank's entire story but now she spoke up, "Frank, had could you think that way about us? Every one of the people in your life loves and respects you. The choices you did or didn't make in that warehouse don't change that. We love you," Nancy said and when Frank looked away she put her hand on his face and gently brought it back to face her, "listen to me Frank. We love you. I love you."

"I know you do," Frank whispered, "but Nancy, I don't think you understand…I wanted to kill Greg Atkinson. I wanted to kill him."

"I know you did," Nancy nodded, "and a lesser man would have done it." When Frank shot her a look she shrugged, "what? You could have gotten away with it, there were no witnesses except for Joe and what kind of state was he in? He wouldn't have a clear picture of what happened anyway. You could have done it and gotten away with it." Nancy sighed, "But you didn't Frank, don't you see? That's what matters, the fact that you didn't kill him. Not that you entertained the idea, not that your brother pulled you back from that ledge, but the fact that you didn't kill him. In my opinion, that makes you one of the strongest, bravest men I have ever known."

Frank didn't know what to say. He could feel some of the pressure begin to lift off of his shoulders and he wanted desperately to reach for it, make the pressure and self loathing stay. He had lived with it for so long he didn't know how to live without it. Could what Nancy was saying be true?

"Nancy…" Frank began and found that he really didn't know what to say, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I didn't talk to you about this sooner."

"That's alright," Nancy smiled and placed a tender kiss on Frank's lips.

"Thank you," Frank murmured, "it's not gone, but its better."

"Good," Nancy lay down and pulled Frank with her. She laid her hand on his chest and her head on his shoulder, "it's been a long day. Let's sleep."

"Good idea," Frank murmured and pulled Nancy closer to him.

Oh geez, there I go writing another chapter without much Joe in it…I'm sorry Joe-lovers! I promise that the Joe area of the story is really going to pick up soon, I promise. Please don't shoot!