"Oh my god…"

This relatively simple statement was uttered by Callie as the six youths laid eyes upon the kitchen. And though it was a simple statement, it managed to put into words and voice what the rest were to dumbstruck to vocalize.

The crime scene, though it had been trampled and picked through, was no less horrific then it had been before. The dried blood and vomit had begun to reek after more then a day of being left to rot and the flies that had some how gotten in buzzed around the mess where a few maggots were already visible. This, combined with Joe's story, was enough to overwhelm the teens and threatened to suffocate them with despair.

"I'm going to be sick!" Vanessa declared before fleeing the kitchen and heading for the hall bathroom. Callie quickly followed her, leaving the boys alone in the room of horrors.

"That must have been where Frank was…" Phil said, his voice strangled with emotion as he pointed to a smear of blood and vomit next to the island. He tried not to focus on the island that was smeared with blood. Or the dried pools of blood and vomit on the floor next to it. Or the dried pool just feet away. Or the fact that the blood on the island was Frank's and that there was so much of it. Or that there was a pool of Joe's blood being eaten by maggots…or that it was everywhere…or…or…or….

"Yeah, Joe said he was by the island…" Biff said slowly, closing his eyes to block out what he was seeing.

"Come on Chet, let's go get the cleaning stuff…" Tony stammered as he guided Chet threw the kitchen to the basement. The bigger boy's snuffles could be heard clearly even as he left the room.

"God….I…How….I can't even….Who the hell could do something like this?!" Biff cried looking at Phil for answers.

But Phil offered none; he couldn't. He just looked around, trying to picture what happened. "There was nothing stolen from the house but it was ransacked like they were looking for something."

"Yeah, so?" Biff asked, a little shortly.

"Well…I mean…this looks like what Frank and Joe would describe as a break and search. You know, when some crook would be looking for a file their dad had but couldn't find it? That's what it looks like."

"Yeah, and?" Biff asked, starting to follow along.

"Well, whoever broke in had to know that…I mean they had to know about the break and search. And they worked really hard to make it look like one."

"What are you getting at?"

"I think that they wanted to make things look like a break and search gone bad. I don't know like…like they went looking for a folder but found Frank instead and he was being held hostage. Except that they weren't, it was diversion," Paul thought up loud.

"What does it matter, Mr. Hardy's office wasn't even touched," Biff pointed out.

"It means that whoever did this knows the Hardys really well. I mean really well."

Callie held Vanessa's hair and rubbed small circles in her back. Vanessa heaved one last time before sitting up and leaning her head against the bathroom wall. Callie reached over to the towel rack and pulled a hand towel off the rack, making sure she soaked it in cool water before handing it to Vanessa.

The younger girl took the towel gratefully and used it to wipe her face. "Thanks," she said.

Callie shrugged, "Trust me, I'm not going to be able to eat for the next year."

"Who could do something like that?" Vanessa asked, eyes wide.

Callie shrugged and sighed. She was quiet for a moment, clearly thinking about an answer. Finally she said, "I have no idea who, but I know that when I get a hold of them they'll find out exactly what Frank and Joe went through and then some."

Laura stood watch over her son, or more like stood guard. Anything, man, demon, or act of God, that threatened her baby tonight would be in sorry existence.

The mother was shaken, and she was upset, and that made her pissed. Someone had hurt her babies, some one had violated her home. But more then that, some one had shaken Frank so badly he was terrified.

While Joe had always been the physical stronger of her boys, always the better athlete and such, Frank had always been mentally stronger. Always the logical one, letting his mind reason away his fears. That wasn't to say he didn't have any fears. No, Laura knew quit well the fears of her eldest son.

Frank was afraid of spiders, after falling into a spider nest as a child. He was afraid of the dark, after getting locked a cellar once to be used as a hostage during one of his father's cases. He was afraid of small spaces and being tied up. He was afraid to lose Joe, or his parents and aunt, or one of his friends and of being alone. But each of these fears were carefully thought through and pushed aside until they didn't bother him.

Frank had the ability to take in all the facts, all the emotions, and all the detail of something and process it so that all that remained was the facts. His mind was so sharp and so strong all his fear couldn't stand up to logic. So it wasn't with a light heart that Laura Hardy's eldest baby said, "Mom I scared."

An hour ago, after Ezra had left, and Fenton had asked her to sit with Frank, Laura had held his son as he told her the awful truth about what had happened to him and Joe. He told her about his feelings, about his helplessness, his guilt, his anger, and his fear.

"Mom I'm so scared…I'm so scared..." he had sobbed while she held his good hand and stroked his hair, careful not to do anymore damage.

She had listened to him. She reassured him. She comforted him. She wiped his eyes when he was all cried out. She made him drink some water. She recited a simple children's poem in a soft voice until he was asleep. And she stood guard, a low hatred simmering in her.

Heaven help anyone who dare threaten her baby.