Fenton had never felt such anger before. Frank had told him he thought Turner was messing with Joe's mind and now Fenton could see the evidence for himself. If only it was physical proof he would go to the authorities and have the foundation shut down at once. 'Laura, hurry!' he thought as he hugged his son tight.
"Son," Fenton said, pulling back and taking Joe's head into his hands. "Son," he said as Joe refused to look at him. "Listen to me. I am proud to have you as a son. No father could be prouder."
Tears fell from Joe's eyes as he tried to shake his head. "How can you be?" he asked. "I'm always causing so much trouble."
"No, Son," Fenton denied. "You are always helping people. Granted, you don't think about what happens to you in the process but that only makes you that much more special. You care so much. You give so much. Don't you see? It's your selflessness that gets you into trouble all the time but it's that same selflessness that makes you the very special, very lovable, person you are. I love you. Your mother loves you. And no one could deny your brother loves you. Without you, our lives would be so empty."
Joe continued to cry so Fenton pulled him close again. "I called your mother," he said, rocking Joe gently as he rubbed the blond locks. "She will be here soon to get you and take you home."
"No," Joe said and tried to pull away but, like his weight, his strength was also at an all time low. "You can't. I can't," he insisted. "I know they killed her."
"I agree," Fenton said, refusing to release his son. "And your brother and I will prove it," he continued. "But I will not allow them to continue doing this to you."
"They haven't done anything to me," Joe said, his voice quiet and sad. "I...I think talking with Dr. Turner is actually helping me."
Fenton was shocked. Joe may think the man was helping him but, like Frank, he was positive the reverse was true. "Helping you?" asked Fenton with ill-concealed anger. "No, Joseph. He isn't helping you."
"But we're talking things over," objected Joe.
"Like what?" asked Fenton without trying to seem too pushy.
"Like why no one noticed I had lost so much weight," Joe replied. "And he was right. I am a burden. Especially on Frank. That's why when I started avoiding him this past summer he didn't try to spend more time with me. He started spending more time with his friends."
"Joseph, did it ever occur to you that the reason you were able to avoid him for so long was because you left early and never got home until well after dark?" asked Fenton gently. "Your brother was constantly complaining because you weren't home more. He thought we should ground you just so you could spend a day with him."
"He did?" Joe asked, looking up at his father hopefully.
"He did," Fenton stated firmly. "And as far as your weight loss, it was kind of hard to notice when you were seldom around and you went to great lengths to hide it when you were at home. You lied about eating your meals and you started wearing your old clothes. I thought your mother had donated them some time ago."
"She did most of them," Joe confessed. "But..."
"But?"
"But you are so observant," Joe said. "Why..."
"Why what?" Fenton asked, his eyes narrowing on his son because he realized there was something more troubling him.
"No..nothing," Joe stuttered.
"Joseph?" Fenton demanded a bit more sternly.
"Why don't we ever do anything together?" Joe asked softly.
"We do," Fenton countered in confusion.
Joe shook his head. "Not just the two of us," he denied.
"I took you to the race," Fenton reminded him.
"That was your job," Joe pointed out. "You needed me to check out the cars while you kept them occupied."
"I thought you liked working with me," commented Fenton, unable to hide the hurt he felt at Joe's remark.
"I do," Joe said quickly. "But, well..."
"But you want to do something, just the two of us, that has noting to do with work?" asked Fenton. Joe nodded. "Son, do you remember last month when you, Frank and I went on that three-day fishing trip?" Again, Joe nodded. "Do you remember that you insisted Frank come even though he told you that he didn't want to go?"
"Yeah, but he loves to fish," Joe said.
"I know," Fenton said, smiling. "But occasionally, I want to take just you or Frank. But every time I try to do something with just one of you, one of you always starts worrying about the other one."
Joe thought of all the proposed trips his dad had mentioned in the last year alone and how he had always wanted to have Frank go with them. "I'm an idiot, aren't I?" Joe asked.
"No," Fenton answered. "And it's okay to want your brother to come along with us. He always insists on bringing you on the outings I try to take him on too."
"Like the air show over Spring Break last year," Joe commented. Fenton nodded.
"I love you, Dad," Joe told him.
"I love you too," Fenton responded. "And if you feel you need to talk with someone outside of the family about things then there are several good psychiatrists in Bayport you can see. But Dr. Turner is not a good psychiatrist and he isn't trying to help you."
"Yeah, Frank said that too," Joe said. "I guess I'm a real idiot for being taken in by him again."
"No," denied Fenton. "You're just a little confused. And that's understandable," he added. "They started giving you depressants."
"Is that what Dr. Holden gave me this morning?" wondered Joe. "He was weird. Said I had to start having an extra physical every day and had to take a new vitamin. The depressant," Joe added, looking at his father miserably. "I don't get it though."
"Get what?" inquired his dad.
"Why do they want me to get sicker?" Joe asked. "If I'm the only guy and my chemistry is different, shouldn't they want to see what is alike in the other patients and me?"
"I think they are," Fenton answered. "I think they have you in a control group. The one were they intentionally make you ill to check for a specific bit of DNA. I looked up the other male patients the foundation has been home to in the past and they were in the same control group as you are in now," he explained. "I believe they are trying to isolate the gene that causes the disease."
"That's not such a bad thing," Joe said. "You have to know what causes something before you can find out how to stop it," he reasoned. "Of course, it won't work for them since I really am not sick."
"It's bad when they purposefully increase the severity of the disease to the expense of someone's life," Fenton told him, not commenting on Joe's last statement because he still wasn't convinced Joe wasn't sick to some point.
Fenton hugged Joe tight once again. "I want to thank you for bringing this to my attention," he said. "A specialized hospital is a good concept but the people here are using the patients as guinea pigs and that has to stop."
"So you aren't mad at me?" Joe asked hopefully.
"No, I'm not mad at you," Fenton answered somberly. "But you do know you went about this the wrong way?"
"It was the only way I could think of to get in," Joe said.
"Endangering yourself for a case is never a viable option," Fenton told him sternly. "If you ever feel something needs to be checked out, I want you to promise to discuss it with me. Even if I disagree with you, I will listen and offer you options that you can follow if you can't think of anything yourself. Okay?"
"Okay," Joe promised with a wan smile. "Am I still going to get punished?"
"Expecting it, were you?" inquired Fenton, a bit relieved because he now knew that Joe had known all along what he was doing was wrong which meant he might actually not be sick.
"I kind of figured you and mom wouldn't be too happy with me when you found out," Joe confessed.
"You're right about that," concurred Fenton. "But we will save the punishment until the drugs they have been giving you are out of your system and you are a bit healthier."
"Something to look forward to, oh joy," Joe said sarcastically but his smile let his dad know it didn't really bother him.
"Son," Fenton said, pulling back and taking Joe's head into his hands. "Son," he said as Joe refused to look at him. "Listen to me. I am proud to have you as a son. No father could be prouder."
Tears fell from Joe's eyes as he tried to shake his head. "How can you be?" he asked. "I'm always causing so much trouble."
"No, Son," Fenton denied. "You are always helping people. Granted, you don't think about what happens to you in the process but that only makes you that much more special. You care so much. You give so much. Don't you see? It's your selflessness that gets you into trouble all the time but it's that same selflessness that makes you the very special, very lovable, person you are. I love you. Your mother loves you. And no one could deny your brother loves you. Without you, our lives would be so empty."
Joe continued to cry so Fenton pulled him close again. "I called your mother," he said, rocking Joe gently as he rubbed the blond locks. "She will be here soon to get you and take you home."
"No," Joe said and tried to pull away but, like his weight, his strength was also at an all time low. "You can't. I can't," he insisted. "I know they killed her."
"I agree," Fenton said, refusing to release his son. "And your brother and I will prove it," he continued. "But I will not allow them to continue doing this to you."
"They haven't done anything to me," Joe said, his voice quiet and sad. "I...I think talking with Dr. Turner is actually helping me."
Fenton was shocked. Joe may think the man was helping him but, like Frank, he was positive the reverse was true. "Helping you?" asked Fenton with ill-concealed anger. "No, Joseph. He isn't helping you."
"But we're talking things over," objected Joe.
"Like what?" asked Fenton without trying to seem too pushy.
"Like why no one noticed I had lost so much weight," Joe replied. "And he was right. I am a burden. Especially on Frank. That's why when I started avoiding him this past summer he didn't try to spend more time with me. He started spending more time with his friends."
"Joseph, did it ever occur to you that the reason you were able to avoid him for so long was because you left early and never got home until well after dark?" asked Fenton gently. "Your brother was constantly complaining because you weren't home more. He thought we should ground you just so you could spend a day with him."
"He did?" Joe asked, looking up at his father hopefully.
"He did," Fenton stated firmly. "And as far as your weight loss, it was kind of hard to notice when you were seldom around and you went to great lengths to hide it when you were at home. You lied about eating your meals and you started wearing your old clothes. I thought your mother had donated them some time ago."
"She did most of them," Joe confessed. "But..."
"But?"
"But you are so observant," Joe said. "Why..."
"Why what?" Fenton asked, his eyes narrowing on his son because he realized there was something more troubling him.
"No..nothing," Joe stuttered.
"Joseph?" Fenton demanded a bit more sternly.
"Why don't we ever do anything together?" Joe asked softly.
"We do," Fenton countered in confusion.
Joe shook his head. "Not just the two of us," he denied.
"I took you to the race," Fenton reminded him.
"That was your job," Joe pointed out. "You needed me to check out the cars while you kept them occupied."
"I thought you liked working with me," commented Fenton, unable to hide the hurt he felt at Joe's remark.
"I do," Joe said quickly. "But, well..."
"But you want to do something, just the two of us, that has noting to do with work?" asked Fenton. Joe nodded. "Son, do you remember last month when you, Frank and I went on that three-day fishing trip?" Again, Joe nodded. "Do you remember that you insisted Frank come even though he told you that he didn't want to go?"
"Yeah, but he loves to fish," Joe said.
"I know," Fenton said, smiling. "But occasionally, I want to take just you or Frank. But every time I try to do something with just one of you, one of you always starts worrying about the other one."
Joe thought of all the proposed trips his dad had mentioned in the last year alone and how he had always wanted to have Frank go with them. "I'm an idiot, aren't I?" Joe asked.
"No," Fenton answered. "And it's okay to want your brother to come along with us. He always insists on bringing you on the outings I try to take him on too."
"Like the air show over Spring Break last year," Joe commented. Fenton nodded.
"I love you, Dad," Joe told him.
"I love you too," Fenton responded. "And if you feel you need to talk with someone outside of the family about things then there are several good psychiatrists in Bayport you can see. But Dr. Turner is not a good psychiatrist and he isn't trying to help you."
"Yeah, Frank said that too," Joe said. "I guess I'm a real idiot for being taken in by him again."
"No," denied Fenton. "You're just a little confused. And that's understandable," he added. "They started giving you depressants."
"Is that what Dr. Holden gave me this morning?" wondered Joe. "He was weird. Said I had to start having an extra physical every day and had to take a new vitamin. The depressant," Joe added, looking at his father miserably. "I don't get it though."
"Get what?" inquired his dad.
"Why do they want me to get sicker?" Joe asked. "If I'm the only guy and my chemistry is different, shouldn't they want to see what is alike in the other patients and me?"
"I think they are," Fenton answered. "I think they have you in a control group. The one were they intentionally make you ill to check for a specific bit of DNA. I looked up the other male patients the foundation has been home to in the past and they were in the same control group as you are in now," he explained. "I believe they are trying to isolate the gene that causes the disease."
"That's not such a bad thing," Joe said. "You have to know what causes something before you can find out how to stop it," he reasoned. "Of course, it won't work for them since I really am not sick."
"It's bad when they purposefully increase the severity of the disease to the expense of someone's life," Fenton told him, not commenting on Joe's last statement because he still wasn't convinced Joe wasn't sick to some point.
Fenton hugged Joe tight once again. "I want to thank you for bringing this to my attention," he said. "A specialized hospital is a good concept but the people here are using the patients as guinea pigs and that has to stop."
"So you aren't mad at me?" Joe asked hopefully.
"No, I'm not mad at you," Fenton answered somberly. "But you do know you went about this the wrong way?"
"It was the only way I could think of to get in," Joe said.
"Endangering yourself for a case is never a viable option," Fenton told him sternly. "If you ever feel something needs to be checked out, I want you to promise to discuss it with me. Even if I disagree with you, I will listen and offer you options that you can follow if you can't think of anything yourself. Okay?"
"Okay," Joe promised with a wan smile. "Am I still going to get punished?"
"Expecting it, were you?" inquired Fenton, a bit relieved because he now knew that Joe had known all along what he was doing was wrong which meant he might actually not be sick.
"I kind of figured you and mom wouldn't be too happy with me when you found out," Joe confessed.
"You're right about that," concurred Fenton. "But we will save the punishment until the drugs they have been giving you are out of your system and you are a bit healthier."
"Something to look forward to, oh joy," Joe said sarcastically but his smile let his dad know it didn't really bother him.