Author's note: Thank you to everyone who read and reviewed the last chapter. Here's the next one!

ErinJordan: Thank you for reading!

Candylou: I agree; the chapter was a little confusing. You definitely won't get all the answers in this chapter, but hopefully you will come a little closer to finding out the truth :)

Caseykam: Thanks for reading! I agree that Vanessa shouldn't be overdone. I am therefore happy to inform you that I am currently writing on chapter six and Vanessa is yet to get any screentime with Joe. Frank, on the other hand, has. However, I really do like her, and she will be part of this story, but I will try not to make her too "perfect".

Merryw: Thank you so much for your kind review! I can't reveal too much, but you are definitely onto something.

Please enjoy!

Reminiscence

He woke up later and was somewhere else. The bed wasn't his. The white sheets were soft and clean. He wasn't cold any longer. Only tired. Not that same kind of tired, either. He wanted to sleep now, not just disappear.

Joe slowly opened his eyes. Groaning, he shook his head. He should have known. A hospital. Of course. He always ended up there, some way or another. So stupid.

They had hooked him up to an IV, but that seemed to be about it. No respirators or monitors this time. No casts or bandages covering up a gunshot wound or a stabbing. It was just him. It was he that was the problem.

How had they found him? He hadn't told anyone where he was going.

Oh! He remembered now. The phone call. He had spoken to Biff. But that was a dream, wasn't it? Vanessa. Vanessa came too. Did that actually happen? No, no, it was a dream. But he was here. Was he still dreaming?

The walls were white. From somewhere high above him, a bright crown of light streamed down. Maybe he was dreaming he was in heaven. Or maybe he was in heaven. For real. Maybe he was dead. It was his turn now. Not Aro. Aro was already dead. Now it was him.

A soft knock on the door, and a brown-haired man entered. He looked tired. Dark, blue circles beneath brown eyes. He didn't say anything, just sat down on the plastic chair beside the bed. His hands were trembling.

"How are you feeling?"

The question took the silence by surprise. Joe turned his head slightly, meeting his brother's eyes. "There's nothing wrong with me."

Frank nodded, then wiped his hands at his pants. "I haven't seen you for nearly three months."

"No, you haven't."

A dark handprint stood out on the fabric when Frank removed his hand from his lap. Raking his fingers though his hair, he stood up abruptly.

"Thank goodness you're here. I thought we would never find you."

He breathed in deeply, then turned to the window. "But Joe? I am so freaking angry right now I could kill you."

There was no answer. No flinch, no "I am sorry", no explanations.

"Please tell me you were kidnapped." Still silence. Frank sat down heavily. "I'm sorry," he said, "that came out the wrong way. I just don't understand how you could do something like this to us. We've been worried sick about you. Why couldn't you at least answer the phone? What happened?"

"You're right," Joe said, "what I did was stupid. I am sorry."

"It wasn't stupid, just… Never mind. It was stupid. Terribly so. But I know you did it for a reason. What reason? What happened?"

Chewing on his bottom lip and staring out the window, Joe seemed to be deep in thought. "Remember that mission I was on in October?" he asked.

"The one with the Network?"

"Yep, that's the one," Joe answered, still avoiding his brother's glance. "You know I can't tell you much about it. What you do know, however, is that instead of the intended two weeks it lasted six."

Frank nodded. "Yeah, I remember. You came home looking like the walking dead, and then, two weeks later, you left again. But that wasn't a mission, Joe. You said you needed some time to yourself. I told you okay, if that's really what you needed; fine with me. As long as you would call and stay in touch. And what happened? You just left. No words about your whereabouts, never once answering your phone, not a single note telling us you had left. What was I supposed to think? Three months, Joe! It took us three months to find you. And when we did…" He trailed off.

Joe didn't reply, and Frank knew he wasn't about to. Looking his brother squarely in the eyes, he asked, "What happened?"

The younger Hardy tried to break the glance, but couldn't. He opened his mouth to answer, but shut it seconds later. "I'll tell you," he mumbled at last. "I promise I'll tell you, but not now. First I must think."

Bro, if only you knew.

F&J F&J F&J

Joe closed his eyes. He would do as he had promised. Think.

Arthur Gray. His hair was sprinkled with silver. He wore a black suit and a dark blue tie. Slowly sliding a document across the desk, the agent plastered a smile to his face.

"Now, Mr. Hardy, would you please sign here?" A pen appeared from his front pocket and was neatly placed on top of the document. Staring at the letters scattered all over the paper, Joe shook his head. "Do I have to?" he asked.

The Network-agent laughed nervously. "Whatever do you mean, Mr. Hardy?"

"You know very well what I mean," Joe scowled. "And please don't call me Mr. Hardy. Just because we are in a government office doesn't mean we suddenly have to like each other."

"Excuse me, Mr. Hardy!" Arthur exclaimed, sounding throughoutly offended. "I am just trying to be polite. Now, if you would please be so kind as to sign, we can both get this over with and get back to whatever we were doing."

"Whatever we were doing?" Joe laughed. "I don't know about you, sir, but I weren't doing much. Well, except from killing people. You know; civilians. Children, women; whoever was closest."

Leaning forward, Arthur folded his hands on the table. "If you were killing civilians, Mr. Hardy, then that was entirely your own fault. I, or anyone else for that matter, have never encouraged violence. The fact that you did kill disappoints me, but considered the circumstances I will not further address the issue. Consider yourself lucky, Mr. Hardy."

"Lucky?" Joe stared at the pen in his hand. "With all due respect, sir, I don't feel particularly lucky."

"I can't even begin to explain how little that interests me. Now, sign." The sugar in Arthur's voice was gone. When he saw that Joe still hesitated, he spoke up again. "Joe, you know there is no other solution. Unless you agree to keep quiet of your own free will, we must force you. If this comes out, it will lead to public hysteria and possible destruction. I am not joking."

Quickly scribbling his name at the bottom of the document, Joe stood up. "Fix this," he said simply. "I don't want another child to die."

Turning on his heels, he strode out of the office.

Dear detectives,

Do you know what's going on? Can any of you solve the mystery and find out what's going to happen? BTW, I just realized this was a very short chapter (exactly one word shorter than chapter two). Luckily, the next chapter is a lot longer.

Until Friday, stay safe and happy!