Chapter 14

Joe sat on his bed contemplating the book sitting on the dresser. Glancing between dresser and chair he considered his options. He should probably use the chair, he knew it, but he was so tired of being stuck in the contraption. It had been two months since his rescue. In that time his physical injuries had healed, all but two.

The vertebrae in his neck were being treated by a chiropractor, Dr. Riley was sure a few treatments spread out over about a six month period would be enough to keep the vertebrae in place more or less permanently. Riley did warn him that he might need to see him occasionally for treatment throughout the rest of his life but after the first six month it should be a rare occurrence.

It was his feet that were the real problem. Now that the nerves were further along in the healing process it had been decided that it was time for more intensive therapy. He was currently having physical therapy three days a week away from home. It would still be months, maybe as much as a year before he would be fully recovered. Patience had never been one of Joe's virtues and that lack wasn't helping now.

His physical therapist had said he could start walking more soon, soon being a relative term, with the use of crutches. Not the regular kind that went under his arms though, but the kind he'd seen people with permanent disabilities use. The upper portion wrapped around his forearms while a protruding grip was at just the right height for his hands. The therapist assured him he wouldn't have to use them forever and it was better than the wheelchair he had to admit, at least he'd be upright. But he didn't have the crutches yet and he didn't want to use the chair.

It was only a few steps, okay a dozen, there and another dozen back. "Enough of this," he growled under his breath. He might not be ready to walk any distance without the promised crutches but he had healed a lot...some; he could handle the short trek to the dresser and back. Decision made Joe carefully stood, it was a little uncomfortable but not too bad. "I can do this."

With a deep breath he took a step forward, and another, by a little past the halfway point Joe knew he'd made a mistake. Gritting his teeth he forced himself to move forward, practically falling against the dresser upon reaching it. He stood against the piece of furniture, letting it support him while his feet burned in agony. Glancing over his shoulder he considered the return distance, knowing he'd never make it. Oh the agony of defeat, Joe giggled at the unintended pun. "You're losing it Hardy."

"Stubborn fool."

Joe jerked, nearly falling. Turning his head to the side he screwed his eyes shut at the sight that greeted him. He opened them again, praying the hallucination would be gone. No such luck.

"Miss me kid?" Elmer grinned, it didn't improve his features.

Joe felt like crying. Elmer was supposed to be gone, why was he back now? Had the drug caused more damage than they'd thought? Would his nightmare come true after all? No! He wasn't going crazy! His father wasn't going to be forced to lock him away.

"Don't you think you should call for help? Or do you want to kiss the floor?" Elmer cackled.

Hallucination or not it was probably right. "Frank!" He waited as long as he could but he heard nothing. Taking a deep breath he tried again. This time he was rewarded by the sound of footsteps thundering down the stairs. He just hoped he could keep himself upright until help arrived, already his shirt and hair were soaked with sweat and his arms were beginning to shake with the effort of holding him up. He would have hoisted himself onto the dresser but that would have required putting more pressure on his feet, Joe didn't think that was a good idea.

Frank nearly collided with his father at the bottom of the stairs. "Sorry," he called without slowing down.

Waving off the apology Fenton quickly followed after his oldest.

Frank threw open the guest room door. "Joe, what..."

"Help?" Joe gave his brother a sheepish grin.

Shoving his questions aside for now Frank rushed forward, grabbing Joe around the waist while flinging his brother's arm over his own shoulder. His father, only a step behind him, soon took up the same position on Joe's other side. Silently the two men helped the youngest back to the bed.

"What the hell were you trying to do Joe?" Frank nearly yelled.

"Um, get a book," Joe responded in a small voice. He couldn't blame Frank for being angry. It had been a stupid thing to do. Yes he could put some weight on his feet, with the support of the parallel bars at the therapist's office. He was even able to put his full weight on his feet for a few steps.

"A book? You risked crippling yourself for a book?" Frank shook his head, unbelievable.

"I'm not going to be crippled by a few steps," Joe shouted.

"Alright that's enough," Fenton didn't raise his voice often but when he did his boys tended to listen. "Frank go get your brother a glass of water, I'm sure he could use a painkiller."

Frank stood motionless, staring at his brother as disbelief and anger warred for dominance on his face.

"Frank," Fenton snapped.

He bit back the angry retort he wanted to fling at his father. Turning on his heel he left the room, choosing the kitchen over the bathroom for the requested water. Hopefully the extra distance would give him a chance to cool down.

With a heavy sigh Fenton reached for the bottle of pills on the bedside table. Popping the cap he shook one of the pills into his hand. Slowly replacing the cap he set the bottle back on the table before sitting on the edge of the bed. "What were you thinking son?"

Joe shrugged.

"Joseph?"

"I wasn't okay? Is that what you want to hear?" He was tired, hurting and with the return of Elmer he could add scared to the mix. He really didn't have the energy to deal with his family's anger too, no matter how much he deserved it.

Fenton sighed. He didn't know why he was surprised; patience wasn't something his youngest could ever be accused of. He was actually amazed the boy had lasted this long before pushing himself too far. "No Joe that isn't what I want to hear. I know this must be frustrating for you but you won't do yourself any good by pushing beyond what your body can endure."

Joe nodded; he knew his father was right. "Frank's wrong isn't he? I couldn't be crippled forever could I?" Try as he might he couldn't quite keep the fear from his voice.

"Not if you do what your therapist tells you."

Joe blushed. "I wasn't trying to hurt myself. I just get tired of being in that," he pointed at the wheelchair.

Fenton brushed Joe's hair from his face, "I'm sure you do Joe but it won't be forever."

"As long as I do what I'm told." The door opened before anything else could be said. Frank handed him the glass of water without a word and turned to leave. "Frank wait, please."

Frank stopped with his hand on the doorknob, shoulders tense with anger.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you," Joe glanced at his dad, "either of you," he added.

Frank turned around fixing his brother with a hard glare. "I thought, when I heard you screaming for help...I thought something really bad had happened. And then I opened the door and find out it was just my little brother being an idiot, don't know why I'm surprised."

"Frank..."

"No Dad," Joe interrupted. "Frank's right, I was being an idiot. I can't change that Frank, all I can do is say I'm sorry and promise to do better." Joe turned the full force of his expressive eyes on his brother, silently pleading with him to accept the apology.

Frank sighed. "Next time I might just let you fall on your face."

"There won't be a next time," Joe promised. He wasn't worried by the threat, even if there was a next time his big brother would never let him fall.

TBC...

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