Chapter Fifteen

Present

"Even after all this time, he still has the scar," Frank concluded. "He won't talk about it, though."

"It was another year before we tried camping again," Fenton supplied. "And even then, Joe was so tense."

"What happened to Dean?" Phil asked.

"He was put back in prison, with some murder and attempted murder charges attached to him," Fenton replied. "About five years back, he was killed in a prison riot. The warden called to let me know."

"Did you tell Joe?" Vanessa wanted to know.

Fenton nodded. "He . . . didn't say anything, or acknowledged that he cared, but I could tell that he began to sleep a lot better at night. In fact, a month later, he actually asked to go on a camping trip again. It was as if Dean's death had freed him."

Just then, Callie bit back a yawn. Blinking, she said, "Sorry. Guess I'm a little tired."

"Me too," Chet agreed.

Laura glanced at her watch. "No wonder! It's past three in the morning!"

"Let's all try to get a little sleep," Fenton suggested. "Maybe the doctor will bring us good news in the morning."

Chairs were shuffled around, and several blankets were donated by the nursing staff. As soon as everyone found a comfortable spot, they slipped one-by-one into a dreamless sleep.


Frank wasn't sure why he awoke several hours later. It was as if something was pulling him up from the depths of slumber, calling to him. Sitting up, Frank glanced around and saw that everyone else was still asleep.

Getting to his feet, Frank stretched and made his way across the room to the nurses' station. There were no nurses in sight. With a quick glance down the hall, Frank decided to find Joe. He'd spent enough time without his brother, and he needed to see him.

Luck was with Frank. No doctors or nurses appeared to stop him or ask him to return to the waiting room. Casting a final look around, Frank slipped into Joe's room.

The oxygen tent was gone. Frank guessed Joe had begun to breathe easier when they had slept. His face, though pale, seemed to have had some color return to it. Frank grasped Joe's hand with his left and laid his right hand across Joe's forehead.

"Fever's gone," he murmured. "That's a good sign."

As if responding to Frank's voice, Joe moved his head slightly and let out a faint moan.

Frank sucked in a sharp breath. "Joe?"

Joe moaned again and begun to fight the heavy currents of sleep. Frank waited in breathless anticipation as his younger brother's eyes fluttered open.

"F-Frank?" he whispered.

Frank let out a joyful laugh and wrapped his arms around Joe in a fierce hug. Joe, too weak from being sick, was unable to hug him back.

Finally, Frank pulled back and held Joe's face in his hands. "Hey, little brother. You gave us quite a scare. How you feelin'?"

"Tired." Joe lifted a hand and wrapped it lightly around Frank's wrist. "Frank? Why am I in the hospital?"

"It turned out that your 'cold' was a little more than that," Frank told him. "Mom and Dad brought you in yesterday, around lunchtime."

Joe sighed, tired. "When will they be back?"

"Back?" Frank's dark eyes shown in confusion. "Oh, Joe, they never left! We've all been here since yesterday."

"All?" Joe repeated.

"Yeah," Frank replied. "Mom and Dad, and Phil, Biff, Tony, Chet, and the girls. They're all asleep in the waiting room right now."

Joe's brow furrowed. "They are? Why?"

The sheer innocence behind the question struck a chord in Frank. As he watched his little brother's sapphire blue eyes struggle to stay open, he realized that Joe had no idea how much he meant to his friends. Even though Joe wouldn't think twice about spending the night in uncomfortable plastic chairs for any one of his friends, it never occurred to him that their friends would do the same for him.

"Because . . . they're your friends," Frank answered simply.

Joe looked as if he wanted to argue, but he wasn't going to remain awake much longer. Frank moved his free hand back up to Joe's forehead.

"Go ahead and sleep," he ordered. "I'll be here when you wake up."

Almost against his will, Joe's eyes slipped shut. "Relax, Frank. 'M okay."

Frank heard Joe's breathing even out, and he sat in the chair beside Joe. Heaving a deep sigh of relief, he gripped Joe's hand tightly.

"Thank God for that, baby brother," he muttered. "And I plan on keeping you that way."