Fenton rushed down the halls of the Health Clinic, asking nurses along the way if there was a dark-haired young man who came in earlier with an injured blond. Two of them pointed him in the direction of the cardiac room. Actually, he could have just followed the trail of dried blood on the tiled floor.

Joe… Joe…don't give up….not now… not ever…. Not ever…

Arriving at the farmhouse just a while ago, he was shocked, just as the policemen and agent Simon were, to find a dead body on the floor- a bald man with similar physique to Joe and disfigured fingers. Dark red splatters, crimson pools, scarlet trails marked the house with the smell of copper death. Callie and Elle were all bundled up as if they were waiting to be freight off somewhere. His future daughter-in-law was not in too good a shape and a policeman administered some basic first- aid on her and declared solemnly that though her bullet wound "wasn't too bad," it was contaminated and they would have to get her to the hospital fast. Before Con Riley could call for help, they heard the wailing sirens of the ambulance which signified that Frank must have acted already.

Elle calmly reiterated the sequence of events as Simon Lee untied her. Fenton remembered how he felt then- the coldness of fear and smell of death constricted his chest. A far cry reality was to what was expected- knowing his sons' experience with crooks, he had thought that they would reach the farmhouse to find Joe and Frank giving each other hi-fives and the kidnapper all tied up and indignant at being subdued.

He was still feeling the strangling hands of a father's fear squeezing his heart. Laura, he would have to tell her… but he wanted to know where Frank brought Joe.

Don't let my boy die, God. Please. He only just came home to me. Please….

Cardiac Room…left. Joe… breathe…. If you can't do anything much now… or think… just breathe...

The moment the paramedics arrived, Fenton pulled one aside and interrogate her about the surrounding hospitals or clinics and she immediately said "Porters' Bay Health Clinic." It was affiliated to Bayport Hospital which was a forty minutes drive away. Frank would most probably bring Joe there to seek help first because the drive to Bayport Hospital would have bled anyone with a gunshot wound in the stomach to death.

And so, leaving the policemen and Agent Simon to comb the place and take care of the body and the girls, Fenton rushed to the Health Clinic in his Volvo, burning rubber along the way. In the wee hours of the morning, his tires screeched and disturbed the peace of the little town. But he didn't care. He only wanted to be there for his son.

For both his sons.

Frank…

Fenton skidded to a halt at the sight of a shirtless, young man seated on a pale, green chair some distance outside the cardiac room. He almost couldn't recognize his self-assured, elder son who could seem too confident to the point of being unwittingly condescending at times. The quiet, intelligent boy who grew up to be the quintessence of a unwavering bridge over trouble waters had vanished into a shivering man, clutching a bloodied shirt with downcast eyes dropping bloated tears onto the floor.

The father, who must now draw upon all the strength and courage embodied in him through the trials of fatherhood, silently walked towards his son and sat down, wordlessly draping a strong arm across the quavering shoulders.

And his eldest son continued staring at the floor, finding no comfort in the fatherly affection.

***

Elle sat by Callie's bedside in a room in the Health Clinic, fretting over Joe's condition at the same time. The Health Clinic had the capability to attend to Callie but not Joe. When she arrived with Con Riley slightly after Callie who was in the ambulance before them, they saw the helicopter taking off from helipad on the health clinic's roof and knew immediately who its passenger was.

The whirl of the helicopter's blade plus the murmurs of the nurses discussing the plight of the "young man bleeding from his gut" kept replaying in Elle's mind. She wet her dry lips and seriously wanted to split from Callie's side and drive off to Bayport Hospital to see how Joe was. Their friendship tugged at her heartstrings and she remembered those times when she had freaked out over coffee stains on their office carpet, crumpled case files and bread crumbs all over the his work desk and how he always managed to calm her down with the sight of an iron and vacuum cleaner. When she became paranoid over touching something that was horrendously grimy and dirty, he soothed her frayed nerves with antiseptic wipes before rushing her to the nearest Ladies'. No other friend she had could be so understanding and non-judgmental, not to mention, grudgingly sweet.

No one understood how the two dysfunctional people with characteristics at the polar ends got together in the weirdest partnership and friendship without killing each other. She didn't know how she managed get through each day without strangling Joe for messing up something with his slipshod attitude and how he managed to not go crazy at her constant nagging. But she knew just how much she would miss him if he died.

So, Joe… don't die! You just can't die…

So now she was here, watching over Callie, hoping the police, who had split into two teams with one group combing the farmhouse and the other searching through Richard Thompson's rented room for clues to Hallie's whereabouts, found something useful. And not to mention praying for Joe's safety and thinking of words to comfort Callie who would no doubt want to see Frank the moment she opened her eyes. Elle knew she had never experienced multi-tasking as stressful as now.

She turned and tried to look behind at the window- Callie wasn't in an isolated room- the health clinic was not big enough for private wards. She was sharing a room with two people and three empty beds. However, she was lucky to be placed at the corner so close to the window. Her wound was debrided and cleaned, her fever had broken with the medication. And she was perhaps the most fortunate among them to be able to sleep. Elle was awake for close to twenty-four hours and her mind was overactive with fatigue such that her eyelids couldn't close.

The sky was still dark- it was six-odd in the morning. So much had happened in such a short time. If she was feeling romantically melancholic, she would have reflected on the frailty of life which flame could be snuffed in the blink of an eye like a doomed poet. But she wasn't- all she was thinking about was when the sun rose, would she still have an irritating partner and best friend by her side?

"Frank…"

"Callie…" Elle turned around quickly and tried to smile reassuringly at her new friend. Gently, she squeezed Callie's hand and rummaged through her mental thesaurus for the best choice of words.

Callie's eyelids fluttered and, when she saw Elle, she smiled slightly before it turned into a heartbreaking frown when she saw only Elle.

"Where's… Frank? Where're we? I… I heard gunshot… anyone… hurt?" Callie croaked, her voice raspy and breaking up. Elle extricated her hand and walked over to the bedside table to pour a glass of water from the pitcher on it. Helping Callie up, she passed the plastic glass to Callie who took it gratefully.

"Frank's not here because he's at Bayport Hospital. Joe was flown there in a helicopter from here. He was severely shot."

Callie gripped the glass tightly and stared at Elle in speechless uncomprehending. "What?"

"Joe was shot, Callie. The kidnapper took his own life soon after. And we don't know where Hallie is. I'm sorry to have to tell you this the moment you woke up… I'm sure Frank will want to be here but…" She took the glass away from Callie's hands which were trembling so badly that she was about to drop it onto her lap.

"I… oh my… how's Joe? Is he…"

"I don't know." Elle set the glass onto the table top and sucked in a deep breath, unable to purge the image of Joe's hopeless eyes as he fell onto the dead kidnapper's chest from her mind.

She swallowed hard, incapable of making eye-contact with anyone or anything. "I…"

"Elle… do me a favor. Get me the police… and Frank. I… I know how to get to Hallie."

Elle shot a stunned look at Callie- for a moment; she thought Callie was in delirium. But the determined look in Callie's eyes cleared all her doubts. Quickly, she left the room to get Con Riley who was outside, having a most tedious conversation with his Chief.

***

"His condition is critical, but stabilized. The next twenty four hours is crucial. We had to take out his spleen and almost half his pancreas but thankfully, we were able to sew up his stomach without having to remove any part of it. The bullet had fragmented after hitting one of his ribs which broke. The shrapnel damaged his lungs and liver but we managed to check the injuries. Right now, there's nothing much we can do for him. It's up to his fighting spirit. He lost a lot of blood."

The doctor had enforced a strict rule of two visitors at one time into the ICU ward so Joe could rest properly. A distraught Laura and stoic Fenton went in first as Frank, now dressed in a spare t-shirt which his dad kept in the gym bag in his car, watched his brother from outside through the glass panel. However, his jeans were still discolored with the dark brown patches of dried blood- his brother's blood. With every passing minute, watching his brother's alabaster pallor melting into the white sheets with all those tubes hooked up to him, Frank drowned in guilt and anxiety.

Why did I ever let him go alone? We're partners… we don't split up…

We don't…

Right then, he was alone in the room with his brother. Laura had broken down and Fenton had to support her out of the ward to find some place to calm down. Vanessa was also in the visitor's lounge with her husband and Andrea. She would be fourth in line to see Joe.

"Joe… you mustn't give up… ever. Hear me? You still have to save Hallie… she needs you. We all need you more than you know…" He firmly gripped Joe's limp right hand in his, rubbing it in his palms to bring some warmth to the chilly flesh. Tears stung his eyes as he berated himself for being too slow. In his mind, he was walking through the events to find out where he could have hurried up and his answer was everywhere. He could have talked faster, walked faster and drove faster. Hell, he could have thought faster. But he didn't. He was just so freaking slow!

"We still have that long overdue talk and I'm not going to let you find any excuse to get out of it. I'm not… going…" He pressed his quivering lips together to keep himself from crying. Wet eyelashes fluttered to keep the tears inside. He wasn't going to break down- his brother was not dead and would not die!

"I have so many plans to discuss with you. I know you're tight for cash but you'll have fifty percent stake in our future investigative firm. You have to be my best man at my wedding- you know I'm a perfectionist and I won't have anyone as my best man but you. And for those seven years you're not here, you owe me a lot, brother. And you better be alive to pay up all those brotherly debts- I don't care. I want to know where's our damn, black van! Joe…"

He closed his eyes and a trickle of scalding tear escaped from his left eye, leaving a sticky trail down his cheek. He tasted its brininess and hated it. He hated to cry. How much more of this salty concoction of sorrow he would have to swallow if Joe's heart was to stop beating?

"Frank…" Someone tapped him on his shoulder, jolting him. He laid Joe's hand gently down onto the bed and stood up to find his father behind him, his dark brown eyes somber but shining with important news. Fenton nodded towards the door and Frank followed him out of the room.

"What is it this time? Is it Callie? Is she all right?"

"Callie called…"

"She called… she's fine… she's talking so she's fine…" Frank heaved a sigh of relief, hoping his beloved would not blame him for not being there. At Frank's description of what constitute a healthy Callie, Fenton's lips curled up in a slight smile.

"Yes, she is. Her fever broke. Frank, you're going to have to marry the girl or I and your mom will kill you. She has the most ingenious way to find Hallie and the police plus your FBI friend are on it."

"She has? How?" Frank grabbed his father's hands tightly- it was good news! More than good news. It was hope- hope for all of them and hope to spark the fighting spirit in Joe. If nothing and no one here could pull Joe out of danger, news of Hallie's safety would definitely do the trick.

Fenton smiled with some grim amusement, "Callie simply counted."