Author's Note: This is overdue, but work has been brutal (they actually sent me home early today because I was looking so bad.) Hopefully I can manage more updates now that company is gone, though.

I think I need to work at actual progression of the mystery and action. I hate action. So hard to write. So much easier just to screw with Frank's head, poor guy.

Everything Breaks

"You okay?"

Frank didn't answer in words, his eyes shifting to the brick building in front of him. Joe hoped this wasn't a bad sign. He knew Frank had to deal with things on his own—to a point; the guy was entirely too willing to brood and guilt trip himself to death—but right now would be a very bad time for Frank to go and fugue out on them. They still didn't know if Ned would be triggered before they could get him on a plane, and even then—they didn't have enough people. Someone needed to keep an eye on Nickerson, but Joe did not want to leave his brother.

"Whoa. That's quite the crack. Wonder how that happened," Joe said, seeing the broken window.

"Think Nancy had a visitor who wasn't very happy to find her not in her room," Frank said, and Joe's eyes widened. Yeah, they'd all wandered around a bit, but Frank usually had a good sense of direction, and Joe agreed—that did look like the window that belonged to Nancy's hospital room.

"Well, I guess it's a good thing we got her out of there," Joe began, frowning. "Wait. What about the police watching her room? Do you think...?"

"They're either unconscious or dead, though I'd figure on unconscious. Killing cops is different from killing civilians," Frank said. "It can mean federal involvement and a more aggressive investigation. These people might not care about that—"

"Except Nancy said the guy who came after her was cleaning up. Haggard's death was supposed to be part of covering up their operations, but the guy was sloppy, so he got cleaned up. They wouldn't want to add more murders—especially not of cops. Having Nancy succumb to her injuries would have been ideal for them."

"Only she didn't."

"And she won't," Joe agreed. He looked back behind him. "Uh... We seem to have misplaced her and Ned, though."

"You find them," Frank told him. "I'll go see if that really is Nancy's room and if anyone got hurt."

"You?"

Frank glared at him. "Honestly, Joe, if you think I'm not capable of that, why the hell did you force me out of the house? If the guy who was after Nancy did break that window, then he would have left by now. Why risk being seen?"

"Why risk breaking the window?"

"I didn't say that I had a perfect theory. I just like it a whole lot better than having it be Zollner or one of his agents breaking that pane to get my attention," Frank snapped, walking away from Joe and around to the other side of the hospital.

Joe let out a curse, shaking his head as he did. Damn it, he didn't want to fight with Frank right now—and he definitely didn't want to think about someone baiting Frank like that. If it had been one of them, if there was another message, that could destroy Frank. He was too close to the edge as it was.

He could follow after Frank, but that would probably make things worse between him and his brother. Let Frank have some space. He could do a few things on his own, a bit of investigating. That would help, wouldn't it? Frank would get his feet back under him and be able to know that he could handle all of this. It would help heal him.

That was worth the risk. Joe just wished it didn't worry him so much.

"Do you believe it? Really believe it?"

Nancy drew in a breath, stalling for time as she searched for the right words. She let out the breath and tried to find a way to say what she needed to say with the least amount of damage. She had already caused enough pain, and she knew there was a lot here that she couldn't fix, not now, maybe not ever. She'd let herself be blind to it before, and a part of her said she had to see all of it through—break off from the investigation and be there for Ned every step of the way through therapy and recovery and anything else he might need.

Her guilt demanded that.

Everything else in her rebelled against the idea. This was larger than Ned or her mistakes. Zollner or someone working for him seemed to be an expert in brainwashing and mind control. What he'd done to Callie was proof enough of that. If someone like Zollner had access to whitewashed covert identities, as Frank had theorized, then who knew what those people were capable of or programmed to do? They might not even know. That might be the reason behind leather jacket's cleaning operation.

If she ignored that and went with Ned, she'd be the girlfriend she should be, the girlfriend he deserved. She wouldn't be herself, but she'd be the person he needed.

And she had the sinking feeling, standing here now, that she never had been and never would be that person, even as much as she loved him.

"I don't believe you would ever want to hurt me," Nancy began, watching Ned's reaction carefully. "I don't know if Zollner could have gotten to you on your trip—or maybe he did something worse, something sneakier and at hours when you thought you were sleeping. There are all sorts of horrible scenarios that come to mind... I don't want any of them to be true. I swear I don't."

Ned put a hand on her cheek. "Nancy..."

"You shouldn't have to go through this," Nancy told him. "I want it to be a false alarm, I do. And I want Frank to be wrong about all the rest of this, but I don't think I could live with myself if he isn't. I'm so sorry. I was afraid of this. Ever since I heard about Callie, I was afraid it might happen to you, but I... I didn't stop. I kept up with cases and finding trouble and never once... I didn't..."

"Didn't what?"

"Didn't protect you." Nancy heard him snort, but she shook her head. "It's not like I haven't been aware of the risk to me or the people I care about. As much as it scares me, it's never stopped me—"

"And none of us would want it to."

"Do you really feel that way?" Nancy demanded. "I don't see how you can. Be angry, Ned. Hate me. You should. I got you into this mess. This is all because of me—because I wouldn't stop being Frank's friend or solving mysteries."

"Solving mysteries is who you are."

"And half the time, you hate that."

Ned grimaced. "Are you trying to fight with me now?"

"No." Nancy bit back a curse, running her fingers through her hair. She didn't want to fight with Ned. If she was angry, it was with herself. She couldn't believe she'd let any of this happen, and she was also ashamed of the way she'd behaved for so long. "I don't... I just don't think you should stand there and be so forgiving. You didn't want to forgive me for Gary, so why do it for this?"

"It's not like that—"

"No one deserves to shove aside everything they want and feel to be with someone. If that is what you have to do to be with me, then you shouldn't. Because you do deserve better."

"Is this because of—"

"No," Nancy cut that thought off before he could finish it. No, this was not about Frank. "If we are ever going to have the sort of relationship we should have, then we have to face what's really wrong with what we have and fix it. I can see what I've done. If you won't even let me acknowledge it, then how can I change it?"

"Is now really the time to be worrying about what you think you've done wrong?"

She sighed. "Not really, but the point of our trip was to sort out what was wrong with us. This threat... It won't make that go away. Yes, we have to find out if you have any programming or triggers, and you will probably need a lot of time to undo them if you do... and then we'll have to have this talk again."

"I don't want to lose you," Ned whispered, hand returning to her cheek.

"You haven't," Nancy said, except she couldn't shake the voice inside her that said he'd never had her in the first place.

Joe coughed, not sure how else to draw attention to himself without making things any more awkward than it already was. He didn't want to interrupt Ned and Nancy when they were talking like that, especially not when they had to send Ned away. It looked like they were working things out, and he was sure he was going to make it all weird again because he would remind them both of what was going on and all sorts of other issues that came with the name Hardy.

They turned to look at him, and Joe couldn't even force a smile. "Hey. We may have another problem."

"Great," Ned muttered, pulling away from Nancy. "As if we need more."

Nancy grimaced. She reached out to comfort Ned and stopped herself, facing Joe instead. "What is it? I thought we—where's Frank?"

"It looks like the window in your hospital room was broken. Frank thought it could have been the man who tried to kill you. He went to see if the police that had been watching your room were okay."

"You let him do that alone?" Nancy asked, surprised.

Joe shrugged. "Thing is... I can't be there to do everything for him, and if I don't let him have some space, I really will lose him. Or so I keep trying to tell myself. I think I'll join him now, and after that, we'd better make some travel arrangements."

"The police don't want me to leave," Nancy said. "And I'm not sure—"

"Since when do you do what the police want?" Ned teased, and Nancy almost smiled, but her heart wasn't in it. Joe could tell.

Maybe that conversation hadn't gone as well as he'd thought. Joe pointed to the hospital. "Sorry. Mystery calling. And brother. And... well... what is wrong with us that we didn't all go running when Frank said the killer had been in your room?"

Nancy glanced toward Ned. "Maybe some things are more important."

Joe grimaced. "Or maybe none of us is acting like we should."

Frank saw the nurse at the front desk watching him as he crossed the lobby, and he wondered just how often fights broke out here in this hospital. Most emergency rooms were full of things like that, but this town might be different. Or she might be new.

He tried to ignore the part of him that was suspicious of her behavior—he was too paranoid these days—and went to the elevator. He considered running up the stairs, but he didn't know that it would make any difference, waiting for the elevator. He would probably take just as long on the stairs—he was out of shape and still hadn't even scheduled the physical therapy they'd wanted him to do after he got out of the hospital.

Joe would laugh at that, Frank thought as the elevator doors opened and he stepped inside it, being out of shape, since it wasn't like he'd gotten fat while he sat in his room barely eating, but that took its toll on the body, too. The door closed, and Frank pushed the button for the second floor, waiting as the elevator started to rise.

He tapped his fingers on the panel behind him. Being alone was strange. He'd retreated into his room, but since his family was around and hovering—Joe most of all—Frank had never been alone for long, and not outside the house.

He should feel free. He didn't.

He left the elevator as soon as it stopped, heading down the hall to where Nancy's room was. The hallway was cluttered by a couple of nurse's carts and a few patients, but he saw no sign of any officers. He knew he'd seen them outside Nancy's door. They'd given him a strange look when he left abruptly, staring holes in him as he checked the card and ran for the nearest exit in a blur he didn't remember much of, other than them.

So... where were they now? He didn't think that policemen would just abandon their post, even if Nancy had left the room. A frantic search should be happening—and how had Joe gotten her past them, anyway? Had they been gone before Nancy even left?

He pushed open her door, eyes drawn to the windows first. His stomach twisted at the confirmation of his theory—yes, it was Nancy's window that had been broken. Whoever had done it hadn't stopped there, either.

Strewn across the bed and floor were the flowers that had supposedly come from Bess. He thought the vase might have been used on the window, leaving the sunflowers and daisies all over the place. He saw more broken class on the floor, though... he didn't think the vase would have been strong enough to shatter the window. The vandal must have used something else after breaking the vase.

And why was it no one else seemed to care about that?

His phone rang, and he cursed, pulling it out as he did. He figured it was Joe, but then it would have had his ringtone, not the generic one. It didn't matter. He didn't want to talk to anyone just yet. He tried to hit the button to end the call without taking it, but his finger went too close to the accept, and he heard the call connect.

"Tell me, Franklin. Did your friend like her flowers?"