Author's note: So sorry! I am still not used to this once a week posting schedule, so I forgot to post this chapter. However, it is quite a bit longer than the last chapters, so I hope that makes up for it!

Merryw: Thank you, I am thrilled you like it! I think you are pretty much spot on with your observations :)

ErinJordan: I am sorry the wait got a little longer, but I hope you still enjoy!

Rose Hardy: Thanks for your review and for all the help you have given me! Here's a chapter for you, even though you have read it all before :)

Candylou: Hm, interesting theory! I think you might get some more clues in this chapter. Thank you for taking the time to review!

VintageRoseTaylor: I am really flattered to see you here! Everyone; go check out her books! They are amazing!

The Man on the Bed

Joe had been discharged from the hospital early Monday morning with a bottle of antidepressants and a diet that did not include either coffee or bananas. It was fine by him; he didn't actually like coffee. Persuading his mother to let him stay at his own apartment had been hard, but using a good portion charm and an even greater deal of stubbornness he had succeeded.

Truth was, Joe didn't think he could survive any more hovering. He knew, logically, that his family only wanted the best for him, but their constant stream of questions didn't make him feel any better. There was so much he couldn't tell them, so many things he had to keep hidden. Why had he promised his brother he would explain things to him? He couldn't explain. He had sworn he wouldn't.

"If this comes out, it will lead to public hysteria and possible destruction. I am not joking." Arthur Gray's words played themselves over and over again in his memory. "Keep quiet. The world is on our shoulders. Don't mess this up, Joe. Trust me; you don't want that on your conscience."

It was true. He didn't want that on his conscience. His conscience was already full. Full of all the shit he had done.

Christian. What had happened to the boy?

And Aro. Little Aro with those black eyes that did no longer see.

Even Onegil. Was he still alive?

It shouldn't have happened. And even if it did, he should have been able to do something about it. He knew himself. He wasn't without fear, but certainly not a coward either. He fought when he had to, and he never gave up. Not as long as there was still breath in him. That was Joe Hardy.

Who was the person lying curled up on his bed? The person with a voice in his head, telling him things he could never say out loud. "You're a failure." "You're worthless." But more than anything: "Why the hell are you still alive?" Everyone else was dead.

Joe Hardy had left for a mission in the beginning of October and everything had been fine. Frank had dropped him off at the station.

"Here we are. Have you got your passport?"

Joe patted his pocket. "Everything's here, bro. Don't you worry."

"Me, worry?" Frank asked in mock indignation. "Never."

"Whatever." Joe unbuckled his seat belt, then turned to face his brother. "I now realize this is totally irrelevant information as you won't care either way, but…" he threw in a rhetorical pause for good measure, "even though I have no idea what this mission is about (that wasn't entirely true as Arthur had told him it involved terrorists, but Frank totally didn't need to know that), our friend Gray did tell me the mission wouldn't take much time and that it wasn't any "dirty work" involved. A shame, really, cuz you know there's nothing I love more than an old-fashioned baddy-hunt. You, on the other hand, might find yourself at peace knowing your little brother won't do anything even remotely close to "exciting". To speak in a way you nerd will relate to: "I have a high respect for your nerves. They are my old friends. I have heard you mention them with consideration for these twenty years at least." But, as it seems, they are now suddenly nonexistent. As I said; whatever."

Frank blinked. "I am not going to comment on that. But seriously Joe; you are very good at talking."

"Oh? Like, talking in general?"

"What else?"

"Well, I don't know. Thanks!"

Frank shook his head. "It wasn't meant as a compliment."

"But I took it as one." Joe grinned. "Now, off I go."

With that, the blond-haired man jumped out of the car and disappeared into the crowd of people gathered at the station.

That was how it had all started, the man on the bed realized. He had gone on the train filled with carefree anticipation, and that had been the beginning of the end.

Arthur Gray had met him at the station after countless of hours on the train.

"There you are, Joe. Hurry up, we haven't got the whole day."

"Good to see you too, Arthur! What a lovely day this is!"

The Network agent grunted out something rather inaudible.

"What's that, Arthur? Sorry, sir, I didn't hear you."

"I said it was nice to see you too," Arthur replied gruffly. "Now hurry up, kid, the ship is not going to wait for us."

"Oh, don't be shy, sir. Considered your influence I am sure it will."

Pointedly ignoring the comment, Arthur Gray took Joe by the shoulders and led him to a waiting car. "Here, put your luggage in the back." Joe did as he was told, then fastened his seatbelt.

"So," he said as the car sped up, "can you please tell me what we are going to be doing? I know you have a flair for the mysterious, but don't you think you are overdoing this just a little?"

"No," Arthur said bluntly. "I don't think so at all. On the contrary. I am afraid I have been too indiscreet."

Joe laughed. "How can you possibly have been too indiscreet? I don't know a thing about this mission except "it involves some terrorists" and I am going to participate in it myself!"

"Exactly." Arthur was dead serious. "You know about this, and you are going to participate. Have I done the right thing by involving you? Can I trust you? We need you badly, that's true, but my decision to involve you can be fatal. In fact, it can kill millions of people. You are a good agent, Joe, I will give you that, but I don't like the fact that I have to depend on you."

Joe sat dumbfounded. "You wish you didn't have to depend on me? Is that your pride speaking, Mr. Gray?"

"I wish it were."

"If you don't trust me, then why did you ask me to assist you?"

Gray pulled over, turned off the engine and removed his sunglasses. The pair of brown eyes that carried ice turned to his passenger. "I do trust you, Joe. You have helped me on countless of missions, some of them very challenging. Never once have you let me down." A hand gripped tightly around the steering wheel.

"However, we both know there is a reason you haven't joined the Network. Officially it is because you want to "carry on the family business and live the dream", but there's more to it than that. You don't trust us, Joe. You don't agree with our way of doing things. And you are not afraid to speak up.

I don't think you will be entirely happy with this mission. However, this time speaking up is not an option. That's what scares me, Joe. Respecting authorities has never been your strongest suit."

Joe met Arthur's eyes. "Then why me? If you want someone with the same level of experience as I have, but also want them to excel at the "respecting authorities"-part, why didn't you ask my brother?"

Arthur smiled. "There's a reason for everything. We did consider your brother, but he simply does not have what you have."

"Really? And what is it that I have that he hasn't? A big mouth? Bad temper?"

"Well, that too," Arthur agreed, "but it wasn't what I had in mind. I am speaking about your minor in criminal psychology."

Joe's eyes narrowed. "What about it?" he asked.

Arthur glanced at his clock, then took off into the traffic. "I will explain at the ship," he said. "The other agents are waiting for us there. Most of them know what this is about, but I will give you all a proper review of the situation and the part you will be playing. Now, if you don't mind, I must concentrate on the driving."

The man on the bed smiled. The ship. That's right. He remembered the ship. Happy memories indeed.

He had been seated in this large armchair upholstered in brown leather in a room full of agents. On a table beside him he had had a cup of coffee, steaming hot and apparently very exclusive. They called it Kopi Luwak Cappuccino or something like that. It tasted horrible.

The speaking began when everyone had taken a sip of the awful mixture.

"Welcome everyone, and thanks for being here. I am going to go through the mission, your part in it and what you can expect to encounter. Please pay close attention; this is of utmost importance." For some reason, Arthur Gray decided to look at Joe when he said that. Joe felt a little hurt; it was at least twenty other agents Gray could just as well rest his eyes upon. Maybe it was understandable: it couldn't be questioned that he was the most handsome person in the room. At least Joe hoped that was the reason.

When everyone had murmured "of course" and "thanks" and taken another sip of the poison, Arthur explained what the mission was about. He did so in a matter-of-factly tone and everyone nodded and drank small sips of the Kopi Luwak Cappuccino and listened with their heads slightly tilted.

When Arthur finished, the Kopi Luwak had been drunk. "Is everyone all right with this so far?" Arthur asked. Some said yes, others stared to the bottom of their coffee cups with satisfied expressions.

Joe didn't say yes, and he hadn't drunk the coffee. "No," he said. Everyone stared at him. Arthur too. "Do you want to change something in the plan?" he asked. Joe shook his head. "Then what's the problem?" Gray asked somewhat impatiently.

"The whole thing," Joe responded. "You asked us if we were okay with it, and my answer is no. I am not okay with this."

All twenty agents stared at him with what Joe interpreted as disgust or at the very least stark condemnation. "Then what do you suggest we do, Mr. Hardy?" someone asked.

"I don't have any suggestions to make," Joe answered honestly. "There's nothing wrong with the plan. I understand that someone needs to do this, even if I don't like it. All I say is that I don't want to be part of it."

Arthur Gray cleared his throat. "If nobody else has any questions, I suggest you all go to your cabins and get a good night's sleep. We will have to get up early in the morning. Mr. Hardy, please stay."

When there was only the two of them left, Arthur sat down heavily.

"You know, this was what I talked about," he said. "I was scared you wouldn't want to participate when you got the details."

Joe snorted. "You were pretty damn right about that, sir. Of course I don't want to participate! How could the thought even occur to you?"

"It didn't," Arthur answered, "not until quite recently. You see, Joe, the problem is that there aren't enough Network agents to cover our current requirement. Bringing the armed forces into this is too risky. We need people that are already connected to the government in some way. You are. You have the experience and knowledge needed. When we discovered you also have a minor in the exact field you will be working with there was only logical to ask you. Besides," Arthur sent Joe a meaningful look, "this is too important a case to seriously consider one single individual's sense of honor. It's not comfortable to hear, but your conscience isn't of any importance."

"Meaning?"

"That you will have to participate. It's too late to back out. I'm sorry."

'I should have put up a fight,' the man on the bed thought. Getting arrested for disrespecting orders would have been better than doing what he had done. Anything would have been better.

Would being killed have been better too?

Maybe, the man on the bed thought. Maybe that would have been far better.

What do you think these coffee-drinking men are doing? What has Joe gotten himself into this time? Let me know what you think, and see you on Friday!