"My...." Frank started in shock but broke off. "Joe, what are you talking about?" he demanded, sitting down on the bed beside Joe and taking Joe's hand in his own.
Frank was struck by how frail Joe seemed as he looked at the hand he was caressing with his thumb. "Joe?" Frank asked again in a firm but soft voice.
Joe didn't want to answer. He felt bad enough without making Frank feel bad too so he just gave a small shrug and kept his head turned away. "Joe, please talk to me," Frank begged. "How can I help if I don't know what is wrong?" he asked reasonably.
"Look, it's nothing I can't work out on my own," Joe told him attempting to pull his hand away but failing as Frank grasped it tightly.
"Maybe not," agreed Frank. "But that is what I am trying to make you see," he continued. "You don't have to do it on your own. I'm here."
At this, Joe did look at Frank. "You're my brother and my best friend as well as my partner," Frank told him earnestly when Joe's eyes reached his own. "Whether you want me or not; you're stuck with me."
"Am I?" asked Joe seriously, his eyes reflecting the hurt he wasn't able to hide. "Your best friend?"
"Of course you are!" Frank asserted in surprise so genuine Joe had no choice but to believe him. "What kind of question is that?"
"Well, it's just that Phil is always calling you his best friend and you're..." Joe started in a rush but broke off because what he had been about to say sounded petty even to him.
"I'm what?" Frank pushed.
"When you get some exciting news you always tell him or Callie first," Joe said, looking away and finally letting it out. "I mean, I understand about Callie. She's your girlfriend and some things it's just easier to tell a girl but well, with Phil, it just feels like I'm taking second place," Joe said lamely.
"Don't," Joe begged as Frank tried to interrupt at this juncture. "I know it's not your fault. It's my problem and hopefully talking with Dr. Turner will help me work out my negative feelings and insecurities."
"Are you done?" Frank asked when Joe fell silent. Joe nodded. "For starters, I may be Phil's best friend but that doesn't make him mine," he said. "No," he continued, putting a hand over Joe's mouth as he tried to interrupt.
"I do like Phil," Frank continued. "And if it weren't for you he probably would be my best friend." Frank took Joe's chin in his hand and forced him to look into his eyes. "I may tell Phil first about some new software that I have gotten or about a chess match but that's only because I know you aren't interested in that kind of stuff. Everything that is really important to me I share with you first. Not Phil. Not even Callie," Frank concluded.
Joe threw his arms around Frank and gave him a hug that Frank returned. "I'm sorry," apologized Joe. "I must seem like the most insecure person on the face of the planet."
"No," Frank said, standing up. "At least, now without help."
"Huh?" questioned Joe, his expression a mixture of curiosity and depression.
"I mean, I think maybe Dr. Turner got you to thinking that way on purpose," Frank explained.
"Why?"
"This is a research facility, right?" Frank asked. Joe nodded. "What if they are doing more than gathering data? What if they are creating specific scenarios for the patients to find out what makes one person more prone to lose weight than another?"
"What are you getting at?" Joe asked, not quite following.
"Outside your room just now, Dr. Holden and Dr. Kutchem were talking about how you are still losing weight even though you are following your regime," Frank explained. "Kutchem hypothesized that it could be because, unlike the other patients, you have been leaving your therapy sessions more depressed than when you went in."
"But why single me out to make depressed?" asked Joe.
"Maybe they haven't," Frank replied. "Maybe you are just one of several or maybe," he added his eyes lighting up with his forming theory. "Or maybe you have been singled out because you are a male."
"Huh?"
"Think about it," urged Frank. "Why you? What makes a guy get this disease when it mostly affects females? If they were doing unethical research then this would be a golden opportunity."
"Haven't they had other male patients?" queried Joe.
"I don't know," answered Frank. "But I am sure Dad could find out. In the meantime, whatever you discuss with Dr. Turner, don't let him get to you," cautioned Frank. "I'll be here every night. You talk to me."
"Okay," agreed Joe.
"Joe, I mean it," Frank insisted, making Joe look at him again. "If you think you really need to talk, now or even after this is all over, you can talk to me. About anything."
"Yeah?" demanded Joe, an impish light in his eyes. "What if I want to talk about you?"
"Anything," Frank repeated seriously. "And if you don't feel comfortable with me then dad or mom will listen. They love you."
"I know," Joe replied with a pseudo sigh.
"What's wrong?" demanded Frank with concern.
"You said they love me," Joe explained in a sad tone. "Does that mean you don't?"
"What?" shouted a shocked Frank. "Of course I..." he broke off as he realized his bother's shoulders were shaking with ill-concealed laughter. "You pest," growled Frank, ruffling Joe's hair.
Joe gave him a big grin, feeling infinitely better than he had in days. "Come on," Frank said. "Let's get you down to dinner before they think you threw another tantrum and refused."
"Don't even jest," Joe told him with a scowl.
Frank was struck by how frail Joe seemed as he looked at the hand he was caressing with his thumb. "Joe?" Frank asked again in a firm but soft voice.
Joe didn't want to answer. He felt bad enough without making Frank feel bad too so he just gave a small shrug and kept his head turned away. "Joe, please talk to me," Frank begged. "How can I help if I don't know what is wrong?" he asked reasonably.
"Look, it's nothing I can't work out on my own," Joe told him attempting to pull his hand away but failing as Frank grasped it tightly.
"Maybe not," agreed Frank. "But that is what I am trying to make you see," he continued. "You don't have to do it on your own. I'm here."
At this, Joe did look at Frank. "You're my brother and my best friend as well as my partner," Frank told him earnestly when Joe's eyes reached his own. "Whether you want me or not; you're stuck with me."
"Am I?" asked Joe seriously, his eyes reflecting the hurt he wasn't able to hide. "Your best friend?"
"Of course you are!" Frank asserted in surprise so genuine Joe had no choice but to believe him. "What kind of question is that?"
"Well, it's just that Phil is always calling you his best friend and you're..." Joe started in a rush but broke off because what he had been about to say sounded petty even to him.
"I'm what?" Frank pushed.
"When you get some exciting news you always tell him or Callie first," Joe said, looking away and finally letting it out. "I mean, I understand about Callie. She's your girlfriend and some things it's just easier to tell a girl but well, with Phil, it just feels like I'm taking second place," Joe said lamely.
"Don't," Joe begged as Frank tried to interrupt at this juncture. "I know it's not your fault. It's my problem and hopefully talking with Dr. Turner will help me work out my negative feelings and insecurities."
"Are you done?" Frank asked when Joe fell silent. Joe nodded. "For starters, I may be Phil's best friend but that doesn't make him mine," he said. "No," he continued, putting a hand over Joe's mouth as he tried to interrupt.
"I do like Phil," Frank continued. "And if it weren't for you he probably would be my best friend." Frank took Joe's chin in his hand and forced him to look into his eyes. "I may tell Phil first about some new software that I have gotten or about a chess match but that's only because I know you aren't interested in that kind of stuff. Everything that is really important to me I share with you first. Not Phil. Not even Callie," Frank concluded.
Joe threw his arms around Frank and gave him a hug that Frank returned. "I'm sorry," apologized Joe. "I must seem like the most insecure person on the face of the planet."
"No," Frank said, standing up. "At least, now without help."
"Huh?" questioned Joe, his expression a mixture of curiosity and depression.
"I mean, I think maybe Dr. Turner got you to thinking that way on purpose," Frank explained.
"Why?"
"This is a research facility, right?" Frank asked. Joe nodded. "What if they are doing more than gathering data? What if they are creating specific scenarios for the patients to find out what makes one person more prone to lose weight than another?"
"What are you getting at?" Joe asked, not quite following.
"Outside your room just now, Dr. Holden and Dr. Kutchem were talking about how you are still losing weight even though you are following your regime," Frank explained. "Kutchem hypothesized that it could be because, unlike the other patients, you have been leaving your therapy sessions more depressed than when you went in."
"But why single me out to make depressed?" asked Joe.
"Maybe they haven't," Frank replied. "Maybe you are just one of several or maybe," he added his eyes lighting up with his forming theory. "Or maybe you have been singled out because you are a male."
"Huh?"
"Think about it," urged Frank. "Why you? What makes a guy get this disease when it mostly affects females? If they were doing unethical research then this would be a golden opportunity."
"Haven't they had other male patients?" queried Joe.
"I don't know," answered Frank. "But I am sure Dad could find out. In the meantime, whatever you discuss with Dr. Turner, don't let him get to you," cautioned Frank. "I'll be here every night. You talk to me."
"Okay," agreed Joe.
"Joe, I mean it," Frank insisted, making Joe look at him again. "If you think you really need to talk, now or even after this is all over, you can talk to me. About anything."
"Yeah?" demanded Joe, an impish light in his eyes. "What if I want to talk about you?"
"Anything," Frank repeated seriously. "And if you don't feel comfortable with me then dad or mom will listen. They love you."
"I know," Joe replied with a pseudo sigh.
"What's wrong?" demanded Frank with concern.
"You said they love me," Joe explained in a sad tone. "Does that mean you don't?"
"What?" shouted a shocked Frank. "Of course I..." he broke off as he realized his bother's shoulders were shaking with ill-concealed laughter. "You pest," growled Frank, ruffling Joe's hair.
Joe gave him a big grin, feeling infinitely better than he had in days. "Come on," Frank said. "Let's get you down to dinner before they think you threw another tantrum and refused."
"Don't even jest," Joe told him with a scowl.