Well, as probably all of you know, the site was down for most of yesterday, so I couldn't update. And I know none of you could review or anything, but thanks to those of you who read!

I'm sorry if there are any holes in this chapter, I tried to cover everything the best I could so as not to insult Joe's intelligence.

Anyways, please R&R! Do not own anything 'cept the plot.

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CHAPTER 5

Once inside the house, Frank and Joe walked quietly to the kitchen where they turned on the light. Frank motioned for his brother to sit in a chair. "Why don't you get something to eat, bro. You look like you could use it."

Joe raised one eyebrow and looked Frank up and down. "What, and you don't?" Frank didn't answer, and Joe sighed, deciding to leave that conversation for later. "Never mind. Besides, I'd rather wait till I see my parents."

Frank nodded in understanding. "Okay, just stay here a minute." He wasn't exactly sure how to break it to them, but not wanting to wait any longer, he hurried for the stairway. Rushing up two at a time, he rushed around the corner at the top of the stairs and swiftly made his way to the door of his parents' room. Without going in, he knocked urgently and called, "Dad! Mom!"

Late-night disturbances weren't uncommon—at least they didn't used to be, and old habits die hard—so it was no time at all before the door was thrown open and Frank was face-to-face with Fenton. "Frank? What is it, Frank? Is something wrong?" It wasn't until Frank saw his dad looking so worried that he realized this was the first time he had spoken to anyone with any sort of inflection in a long time.

"Frank? Please, tell us, what's wrong?" The dark-haired boy saw his mother over his dad's shoulder, also looking concerned. He only smiled broadly and grabbed his parents in an abrupt hug.

"Nothing's wrong. Just the opposite in fact." Before they could ask for further explanation, he pulled away and requested urgently, "Just come downstairs right away. Trust me." With that, the exuberant teen whirled around and dashed downstairs, followed more slowly by the confused couple.

When they reached the kitchen, Frank turned back around to face his parents. His elated grin was still present when he exclaimed, "Mom, Dad, Joe's alive! He's alive!" He stepped out of the way so they could see their blond-haired son sitting at the table, then walked over and moved behind his brother so he and their parents could have their reunion. Now that all of the past twenty-five minutes had finally sunk in, Frank couldn't stop smiling. He just couldn't get over that fact that his brother was really and truly alive.

Laura gasped and brought a shaky hand to her mouth. She looked up at her husband in disbelief, who also seemed to be dazed. Joe stood up and took a step toward his parents, then waited for them. Laura returned her gaze to him, and finally taking it in, she let out a sob and rushed for him, engulfing him in her arms. "Oh, Joe! It really is you!"

His gaping mouth closing, Fenton joined them in the embrace, not sure how this was possible, but not questioning it, at least for now. He had his son back. He glanced at his beaming older son with tear-filled eyes. Both of his sons.

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A few minutes later everyone was in the living room, gathered around Joe who was seated on the couch close to Frank. Their parents had pulled up chairs facing the two, desperate to know how their son was alive.

Tears still gleaming in her eyes, Laura held Joe's hand in both of hers. "How can you be alive? What happened?" Fenton leaned forward intently, also eager to hear his answer.

The eighteen-year-old alternated his gaze between his two parents, then looked to Frank once for support before he commenced. "Well, it was Crowe. He captured me and he's had me this whole time, though I have no clue where. That's really all it was." Joe swallowed as he remembered, and wasted no time. "At first, I was kept in the same room with my hands tied for a while, given only water every now and then. A few days, at least. Then when it became obvious I'd be there for a while–or when they'd figured out what to do with me–they moved...well, forced...me to another room, similar to a jail cell."

He glanced at his mother, not sure how many details to include and not wanting to upset her too much. But she only nodded determinedly; she'd heard worse before. Hearing what had actually happened to her son was relatively reassuring, considering what they'd all previously believed.

"The door was made of solid iron bars, no chance of breaking it down. There was a small cot and a private bathroom, but only one window, and it was barred, too. Even if it wasn't, it would've been way too small to fit through, and all I saw through it was grass. I must've been in a basement of some sort, in the middle of nowhere. The walls and floor were made of concrete, and it was really cold."

Joe felt a hand on his shoulder, a silent gesture of sympathy and comfort from his brother. He smiled gratefully, then looked knowingly at his dad before he could ask. "No, there was no chance for me to try to overtake anyone. They'd wait till I fell asleep before leaving me food and clothes. If I didn't sleep, I didn't eat. Besides, I tried faking once, but I realized they didn't even open the door, just slid the food in through a slot at the bottom."

He sighed tiredly, reminded of the endlessly boring days spent in his cell. "I went through every scenario in my head, trying to figure a way out. But no one even spoke to me. The only things in my room were the cot with some thin bedding, the small empty bathroom, and a light bulb that was turned off by someone else, somewhere else, when it got dark. I counted how many days I was there; every morning I would make myself memorize that day's 'number' so I would remember it. It's not like I had anything better to do." He didn't tell them that he'd gotten so bored out of his mind that he'd begun counting the bricks in the walls, and had even talked to himself on occasion. Though it had been three whole months of nothing but those four walls; who could blame him?

With a sarcastic half-smile Joe remarked dryly, using an attempt at humor to mask his trepidation, "They must've started feeling sorry for me, 'cause after a week or two of doing nothing but thinking and sleeping, they started sliding random books in with my food. I went through books so fast I had a new one every day when I got my food." He grimaced. If they could call that slop food.

His dad interrupted him. "You mean to say they fed you only once a day, son?" He looked angry at the thought, disbelieving at the extent of his son's isolation. Frank was also disquieted, and they shared the same speculation. Why did the criminals go to so much trouble?

Joe shrugged with an air of indifference, though inside he remembered that his boredom had only intensified his hunger. "I was lucky to be fed at all, I guess." He decided that the rest of his stay was uneventful enough to skip.

"But just yesterday, sometime late morning I would guess, they came in and tied me up again. I struggled of course, but, uh...you know...there were too many." He didn't have to mention the discolored smattering of bruises on his face for his family to know what happened. "Anyways, they blindfolded and gagged me, then hauled me into the trunk of a vehicle. They were going to transport me somewhere; I don't know where or why."

He paused as he gathered his thoughts as to recall what happened next—since he'd been abruptly woken up and had been kind of groggy at the time—then recounted his escape.

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So, next time we hear how Joe escaped. I'll post Chap 6 soon! Btw, this story has a total of 8 chapters, then an epilogue.