Hey, everyone. While Frank is kidnapped, this story is rated T, not M. Keep that in mind. :) Hope ya'll enjoy! Sorry... I know it's not perfect.

Frank groaned as he felt his arm. It wasn't quite broken yet, but he knew he couldn't count on the full use of it for awhile. Just his luck, too – it was his right arm, the one he would need to escape, or write, or anything else of a helpful nature. Maybe this was a sign he was going to learn to write with both hands. He'd always wanted to do that, ever since he was a child.

Suddenly, the door swung open and Frank glanced up. He didn't recognize the man, so he assumed it was Roger. "Howdy, Pardoner," the man said, "you look like you got you-self stuck in the closet there. Mark said you was my son, Frank."

I'm not your son. Could someone please explain to me what's going on here? Frank didn't dare speak, knowing Mark's comand, but Roger seemed to expect a responce.

"What's the matter with your arm?" he asked. When Frank didn't respond, he demanded, "Are you mute or somethin'?"

"N-no sir," Frank stuttered, again remembering Mark's command not to speak. "I think it's broken."

"We'll put it in place," Roger said with a smile, and Frank wondered if Roger knew that Frank was a kidnap victim.

Before Frank could blink, Roger had grabbed his arm – and snapped it in two, which caused Frank to howl in pain. "Oops," Roger said with a grin, "guess I ain't as good at first aid as I thought."

Yeah, right, Frank thought, furious for allowing himself to hope that Roger was a semi-good guy.

"There are some arm braces in the closet," Roger said. "Get one of them on, and you can eat your meal before I go off too work."

Frank found the brace and winced as he slowly put it on. He could tell it was going to be a long time before he returned home again. Mark had already said that if he told anyone about his situation, he'd just kidnap Joe instead, and that was something Frank didn't want.

He slowly maneuvered to the kitchen, holding his limp arm against his body. He said nothing as Roger prepared breakfast: A bowl of oatmeal and two pieces of bacon. It wasn't much, but at least it was something.

Suddenly, the doorbell rang, and Frank glanced up. "Who is that?" Roger asked. Before Frank could get up, he placed Frank's bowl of oatmeal and bacon on the table. "Eat."

When he answered the door, he smiled to find someone from the neighborhood there. "Hi, my name is Tracey," she said. Before she could say anything else, Roger stepped outside to talk with her.

Abandoning his breakfast, Frank looked around for a phone. He found one on the kitchen counter. Roger's cell phone! He was ecstatic. Quickly, he dialed his father's number, knowing if he called 9-1-1 Roger would only make him lie like Mark had made Joe lie so many times before.

"Fenton." His father's voice on the phone. Crisp clear and sure.

"Dad!" Frank breathed, letting out a sigh of relief. "Dad, I was kidnapped by—" before he could say by whom, he was grabbed, the phone was shut off, and Roger hit him in the head. "Mark told you that you couldn't escape, so don't even try," he growled. "Looks like you just abandoned the rest of the breakfast. We'll have to see if there's any supper for you either."

At least they know I'm kidnapped now, Frank thought as he allowed himself to be dragged back in the closet.

Line

Joe got on his jeans and hoodie, waiting anxiously for his father to pick him up. They'd finally said he could get out of the hospital, and he was superglad. "Come in," he said, answering the knock on the door.

"Hey, Joe," Phil said, "How's it going? You ready to leave?"

"'Course. Where's Dad?"

"He wants me to pick you up," Phil replied, "and take you to the police station. He's got a lead on Frank."

"I don't like the sound of that," Joe mumbled. "I'll bet you anything Troy did it."

"We don't have any proof. You should see Collig have to calm your dad down. Your dad wants to go and interrogate Mark Troy now, but Collig won't let him."

"Let's get going before he kills someone, then," Joe said with a grimace as a reply. "Dad finally believes me?" he asked.

"Of course," Phil said. "He's kicking himself for cutting you off before." He hesitated, then he finally decided to tell Joe the pact he and Frank had made. He had told Fenton earlier.

Flashback

(Bayport High Cafeteria)

"Hey, Phil, where's everyone else?" Frank asked as he sat his tray down.

"Still in line," Phil replied. "How is the bought lunch treating you?"

"If I'm alive afterwards, I'll be lucky," Frank chuckled as he sat down. "Hey, Phil, can I talk to you for a second?"

"'Course," Phil said. "You need something?"

"Yes and no." Frank hesitated, then said, "You know what happened yesterday, right?"

"Yeah. Pretty scary," Phil said. Someone had taken Frank hostage for six hours. During that time, Phil felt like it was his job to calm Joe down until the negotiators could safely get Frank out of there.

"If anything like that happens again," Frank said, "Whether I'm kidnapped, being held hostage, or killed, I want you to look after Joe."

"Me?"

"Yes, you! You're the next-closest thing to a brother he's got. I know he's tight with Biff and Biff thinks they're blood brothers, but I still haven't forgotten the time that Biff almost wrecked our case – even though it was by mistake."

"Why me?"

"You're level-headed, calm, responsible. I trust you more then just about anyone else. Would you please be willing to do that?"

"Yes," Phil had replied, "But you'd better not die on me, buster."

"Who's dying?" Callie asked, setting her tray down.

"Wow," Joe whispered, know knowing the full depth of how much Frank cared for him. "You already told Dad?"

"I told him parts," Phil said, "and he knows that I'm going to be keeping a close eye on you. You're stuck with me, buddy."

TWO WEEKS LATER

"I can't testify, Dad!" Joe wailed. "Frank is missing and has been for two weeks! Mark Troy said that he'd kill Frank if I testified!"

"What?" Fenton asked, spinning around. "Repeat that again?"

Joe buried his face and pretended he hadn't said anything. He mumbled something at the ground.

"Why didn't you tell me this two weeks ago?" Fenton roared, crossing his arms. "We could have been looking for Frank!"

"It's always Frank, isn't it? You're so obsessed with Frank because he's perfect!" Joe yelled back. "You know why I stayed in football? To please you! It didn't matter, because Frank always outshined me, but that was the general idea! I'm sorry I didn't tell you – I didn't want killed! Besides, Troy only told me yesterday!"

Fenton's mouth dropped open. He had no idea he was the reason that Joe stayed in football, and he felt guilty. He sighed, shoved the guilt to the side, and called Chief Collig.

Finally, after two weeks, a breakthrough.