CHAPTER 7

"And then I basically walked for about five hours until I got to town, and that was when Frank...found me." Joe and Frank shared a slightly amused look, mutually deciding that their little 'run in' was unimportant now.

But then their light-hearted expressions fell away when everyone, aside from Joe, tried to grasp the entirety of Joe's imprisonment and months away. Almost imperceptibly his family shifted closer to him, to reassure both him and themselves. Everything could be okay now.

After a minute Fenton broke the silence to allay the tension and raised his eyebrow at Frank. "What were you doing out so late, Frank?"

Frank shrugged dismissively, "Does that really matter right now? It's a good thing I was." He clapped his younger brother on the shoulder as he turned towards him, about to ask something.

Just then Laura piped up, tightening her hold on Joe's hand that she was still clinging to, "But Joe, none of that answers the question of how you are alive. No one could have survived that blast."

Frank, having switched his gaze to his mother when she spoke up, whipped his head back towards his brother, aghast that he could've forgotten this 'small' detail, even for just a little while. "Yeah, Joe, what happened?" He gripped Joe's shoulder tighter in earnest.

The blond youth's brows furrowed as he pondered this, then he reported in a strained voice, "Well...sometime after Crowe's men kidnapped me, right outside the store, no less," he could see Frank's teeth clench in aggravation but barely paused, "I woke up in that old house in a chair, my hands tied behind my back and feet to the chair. Already I could smell smoke from somewhere." Joe's expression grew bitter. "Standing in front of me was none other than Reggie Crowe."

This was all new to Fenton, and when he heard this, understanding dawned on him. Then he groaned. "I thought it was just Garth, working on his own. I forgot all about his brother." Looking grim-faced, the father summarized, "I put Garth Crowe away about seven years ago...along with his older brother Reggie. They escaped prison together about two years ago, but Reggie's been under the radar the whole time. I'd assumed they'd gone their separate ways."

His eyes widening, Frank continued the train of thought. "I kind of remember that. And during the case, we were only focused on Garth, since he's the one who's been causing so much trouble for the police. We didn't really even consider that Reggie might be a part of it." He shuddered.

Joe nodded impatiently, wanting to get this portion of his story out of the way. "Anyways, I recognized Reggie from the picture that was in Garth's file, and he got to talking." He rubbed his face in fatigue, trying to clear the cobwebs from his brain before his gaze traveled to his father's face. "He and his brother wanted revenge on you, Dad. For tracking them down seven years ago and busting them. They knew you—along with us, this time—were back on the case since they'd broken out and decided they could lure you out this time. That's where I came in. I didn't know at the time, but they'd been planning to kill me as a message to our family."

Joe turned to Frank once again and noted that the look of anger and pain was present again now that he'd reached the part that must have been so horrible for the older brother. Joe leaned against Frank reassuringly, then countered, "That is, until the last minute. They decided to fake my death instead." He ground out resentfully, "What could be worse than believing your son...brother...was dead, when he really wasn't?"

Frank regarded Joe, horrified but seeing the logic. It was true. It had been an unimaginable relief to find that his brother was alive, but to learn the truth, that he had been alive the whole time, when Frank was isolating himself to wallow in his grief...it was nearly unbearable.

Seeing the acknowledgment in his brother's face pained Joe, but he continued. "Tied up, I couldn't do anything. Reggie and some other henchman who was there blocked the only exit, I couldn't get up from the chair, and the fire had gotten very close by that time. I was facing the window and saw you outside when you called out, Frank. Immediately I saw Crowe—Garth, that is—behind you and I tried to warn you, but apparently you couldn't hear me." Joe grimaced. "I saw the whole thing, you getting attacked, the police showing up, Garth with the detonator." Joe's speech had slowed and each sentence now came jarringly. "But right about then Reggie came up from behind me, put a gun in my back, and started undoing the ropes. As he started hauling me back he said, 'Enjoy the show, kid? 'Cause it's over, for you,' and I looked out the window and...saw you, Frank, that last time before Reggie dragged me downstairs and out the back. We were barely fifty feet away when the house was blown to pieces."

A stunned silence followed Joe's revelation, broken only by a soft sob from Laura, who had succumbed to quiet tears again. Fenton turned to his wife and gently gathered her in his arms. Joe patted her arm soothingly, and his mother spoke in a troubled voice. "It's just so hard to take in. I mean...we had your funeral."

Joe snickered weakly and tried to lighten the mood. "Wow. I missed my own funeral. It's not every day that a guy has learns he has his own grave already." He sent his brother a resigned half-grin, half-grimace.

Thinking it was kind of amusing in a dark way, Frank chuckled slightly in return, when all at once he was slammed with a recollection. Joe was alive...so who had they...?

Seeing Frank's bewilderment, Joe queried, "What is it, bro?"

"Uh, Joe, you're here, and not dead..."

The younger boy fixed his brother with a puzzled and concerned stare. "Yeah...I thought we'd already established that."

Frank cast him a sideways look before fixating his eyes on his parents. "...so who was it that we buried...in Joe's grave?"

-:-

So, yeah...please review! Is this plausible, is it not...? I really appreciate your opinion. c=