Why had he done that? Joe asked himself. Frank hadn't done anything and yet here he was hitting Frank and yelling at him. "You're an idiot. You're stupid. You should never have been born. Dad's got Frank, he doesn't want you." It was the voices, Joe thought, gripping the wheel tight as they kept badgering him. They had started keeping him up at night, then, they would just nag him every now and then during the day. Now, they wouldn't quit. He couldn't take much more. 'Why wouldn't they stop?' he thought, closing his eyes in desperation.
A squeal of brakes and a blaring horn brought Joe back to reality. He opened his eyes, saw himself driving in the wrong lane and jerked the wheel to the right, slamming on his brakes. The van spun around twice before crashing into a light pole. Joe closed his eyes and cried as the voices kept telling him how bad he was.
"Joe," he heard a new voice in the mix. "Joe!" the voice shouted his name. He squeezed his eyes tighter, willing it to go away. That voice stopped but there was a knock on the window. Joe opened his eyes. Sergeant Con Riley, a friend of his and Frank's, was standing outside the van. The new voice had been his. Joe unlocked the door and pushed it open. "Stay there," Con ordered Joe, preventing him from getting out of the van. "An ambulance is on the way."
Joe shook his head. "I'm...I'm okay," Joe said loudly, trying to drown out the voices in his head.
"That's fine," Con said. "But I want you to stay put anyway until you've been checked out," he insisted.
"Was anyone hurt?" Joe asked, his blood shot eyes looking pleadingly into Con's own green ones.
"No," Con assured Joe. "You're the only one who hit anything." Joe gave a faint smile then laid his head back and shut his eyes. Soon the paramedics arrived and checked Joe out. Con had the van towed and Joe's parents called. Fenton arrived to pick Joe up.
"Are you okay, Son?" Fenton asked Joe, getting out of his car and coming over to where Joe was leaning against Con's police cruiser. Joe looked at his dad dully and nodded.
"The paramedics checked him out," Con informed Fenton. "He's fine but I think he could use some rest." Fenton nodded his agreement.
"Where's my ticket?" Joe asked Con as his dad took him by the arm and started to lead him away.
"I'm not giving you one," Con told Joe. "As long as you go home and get some rest."
Fenton drove Joe home in silence. He was angry with Joe for leaving school grounds in the middle of the day but Joe was obviously wrung out and needed some rest before he was grounded.
At home, Joe headed straight for his room. He never even went into the living room to let his mom know he was okay. He laid down and closed his eyes. The voices were still there. They hadn't left him alone all day. It didn't matter now, though, he was so tired, even they couldn't keep him awake.
He awoke several hours later and sat up. The voices were still there, but now they were saying something else. "Didn't work. Dad still isn't paying attention. Break into Maxines," the voices were saying. "Take the watch you wanted. That will make him pay attention to you. Take everything. He will have to pay attention to you," the voices kept harping, over and over. They were strong voices. Joe closed his eyes and swallowed as the tears threatened again.
"Joe?" Frank asked hesitantly from the bathroom door. The bathroom separated the brothers' rooms. "Feeling better?" he asked, afraid to come any closer.
Joe looked over at Frank. "Sorry about earlier," he apologized. "I don't know why I did that," he added, sadly.
"It's okay," Frank said, a little choked up himself because he could tell Joe was hurting. He only wished he knew why.
"No," Joe denied, his head bent. "It's not." He started crying. "I don't know what's wrong with me," he added softly. Frank came over and sat beside Joe. He put an arm around Joe's shoulders. "I think...," Joe started, then stopped and swallowed. "I think I'm going crazy," he said finally, looking up at Frank, his blood shot blue eyes full of fear.
"Just because you haven't had much sleep?" Frank asked, hugging Joe tight and moving a strand of blond hair from Joe's forehead. "Not a chance," he added softly. "When you get some more rest, you'll feel a lot better," he promised. "Listen baby brother," Frank said gently, taking Joe's chin and gazing steadily into Joe's eyes, willing Joe to accept the emotional support he was offering. "Pressure gets to us all. Even me," he added, smiling. "A couple of good night's sleep and you'll be good as new."
"Promise?" Joe pleaded.
"I promise," Frank vowed. "Lay back down," he added, rising. "Dr. Bates dropped by earlier. He left you some sleeping pills."
"No," Joe said. "I think I can sleep without them."
"Okay," Franks said, he had known Joe would respond that way. Ever since Biff's older brother had died from an over-dose, four years ago, Joe refused all medicine unless he was forced. "If you change your mind," he started.
"I'll let you know," Joe finished the thought for him, smiling vaguely. He lay back on the bed. "Thanks," he murmured, closing his eyes.
"Any time little brother," Frank said softly, hearing Joe's breathing even out. He covered Joe up and went back to his own room and went to bed.
"You did it. He'll have to pay attention to you now," the voices were saying. Joe moved his head back and forth trying to get them out of his head. It wasn't working. He sat up and shivered. The window was open. He didn't remember opening it. Frank must have, but why? He went to the dresser to take out some fresh clothes. Pulling the drawer open, he gasped.
"You did it, You showed him," the voices kept talking in his head. He picked up the diamond studded Rolex watch he had seen in Maxine's less than a week ago and stared at it.
"Joe," Frank said, opening Joe's bedroom door. "Maxine's was robbed last night. It was just on the news," he added, coming inside. "Dad..." whatever he was about to say froze in his throat as he saw his younger brother standing there, watch in hand.
