Sorry I didn't update yesterday. I was caught up in some other stuff. Well, this is the last chapter, and next will be the epilogue. Please review!

-:-

CHAPTER 8

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?"

Joe adopted a pained look on his face, now regretting making a joke about the matter. The question seemed to weigh heavily on everyone, since no one was sure how to respond. That is, until Joe murmured with a sickened expression. "I think I might know."

All eyes turned on him once again. "I never really occurred to me until now, but that other guy in the room with me and Reggie... I wasn't really paying attention to him, but now that I think about it, I don't remember him coming with us when we escaped the house. He was about the same size as me... You think...they could have sacrificed him for the sake of...appearances?"

Fenton's face grew speculative, and he said, "It makes sense. Your...the...remains were so charred the forensics team couldn't even use dental records to identify them. But we saw no one else in that house, so we just assumed..." He looked haunted at the thought, and Frank's face mirrored his father's.

Joe shook his head in disgust. "The lengths that some will go to for revenge." A thought struck him, something that had been eating at him, though he hadn't known what it was until now. He looked anxiously at his father. "You know, Dad, the Crowes wanted revenge before, and now that I've escaped..."

Understanding what his son was implying, Fenton rested a hand on Joe's shoulder. "Don't worry about that now. It sounds like they had to deal with the police, and even if they got away, they wouldn't dare risk coming here so soon." He smiled warmly and squeezed Joe's shoulder before removing his hand. "It can wait until morning." He glanced at the clock on the wall, bemused. "Well, later this morning."

Suddenly reminded of just how weary he was, Joe slumped in exhaustion. Now that the urgent stuff was taken care of, he could barely stay awake. Noticing this, Frank immediately stood and helped Joe up. "Come on, bro. I couldn't imagine how tired you must be, and here we've all been keeping you up."

Their parents also stood up. Laura enveloped her younger son again, clutching at him tightly, reluctant to let go. "It's so, so good to have you back, Joe. You have no idea."

He rubbed her back softly, and when she finally pulled away, he kissed her on the cheek. "I love you, Mom. I've missed you, too." With a watery smile, Laura ran her hand down his face.

"I love you, too, Joe." Her touch lingered, then she passed him and started up the stairs, where she stopped midway to wait for her husband.

Fenton laid his hand on Joe's arm briefly and let his eyes say all that was needed. After a moment, he patted Joe's arm and said, "Good night, son. If you need something, anything, just call."

Joe smiled at his dad and replied, "Thanks, Dad. I will, but I think I'll be fine now," he murmured with a glance at his brother.

Fenton nodded and joined his wife and they returned upstairs to their own room with frequent peeks back over their shoulders at their sons, beyond elation at the sight of the brothers side by side again. Both parents would sleep better than they had in months.

Frank nudged Joe. "Let's go." Following his brother, Joe also traipsed toward the stairwell, but then the older brother paused at the bottom. "You sure you don't want to call anyone first?" He was sure Joe knew how ecstatic all their friends would be to learn that he was alive.

Joe gave a faint but genuine smile. More than anything he wanted to talk to Vanessa, Biff, Tony, Chet, Phil, Callie...all of his friends. But he was struggling just to stay upright and instead he replied, "Nah, man, I seriously can barely stand right now. I'm even too tired to eat. I don't think I have the energy to explain any more." He hoped it didn't sound selfish, but tried to make up for it. "I think just a few hours should be enough for now, then I'll call everybody."

Now starting up the steps, Frank waved the suggestion aside. "No, Joe, sleep as long as you want. Seriously." He could see how dead on his feet his brother was. "Besides, it'll be less shocking if they talk to me first, don't you think?" He chuckled lamely.

"Yeah, you're probably right. Just...wait up on Vanessa, will you? I want to be there when you talk to her." The fair-haired boy longed to hear her voice.

"Don't worry, little brother, I'll wait till you're ready to talk to everybody. Vanessa should be the first one to know." Frank checked and saw that Joe was leaning heavily on the stair railing, staring morosely up the steps, and it seemed like his knees were about to give out.

The older brother scurried back down beside him and slipped an arm under Joe's and around his back, hauling him back to a steady position. "Easy, there, bro. Jeez, why didn't you mention before how tired you were?" Not expecting an answer, Frank helped Joe to the top of the stairs, where they stopped at the entrance to Joe's room. He surveyed his brother with concern. "Just...get some good, long rest, okay?"

Joe eyed his brother critically in return, becoming frustrated at his brother's lack of worry for himself. "What about you? I'm sorry, bro, but...you look terrible. What happened to you?" He didn't like how haggard and fragile his brother seemed under his grip. He appeared even worse than the younger one, and he'd been shut up in a concrete cell for three months!

Frank's body seemed to sag as he averted his gaze, and after a few moments of weighted silence he simply answered, "Like I said. It's been...hard." Boy, was that the understatement of the century.

Joe sighed heavily in exasperation and gathered his last remaining strength to remove himself from Frank's grasp and steady himself. "Yes, you've said that. But that doesn't tell me anything!" His brother was still staring at the wall. "Look at me!" He waited until Frank turned his head back towards him and met his eyes. Frank's bloodshot eyes reflected his own. "Frank...?"

Frank turned away again, unable to confront Joe's inquiry. "Nothing. It doesn't matter, now. You're back, safe, and that's the only thing that does matter."

Joe shook his head vehemently and grabbed his brother's turned shoulder, forcing him to face him. "No, Frank, it does matter. You can't...you can't do this to yourself! You look like you haven't eaten in weeks, haven't been outside in longer... Have you even been outside this house before tonight?"

Realizing his voice had risen, he glanced towards their parents' room and pulled Frank into Joe's room and swiftly shut the door. With a grip on each of Frank's upper arms, Joe examined his brother's face while fear crept into his lowered voice. "What were you going to do, huh? Let yourself waste away to nothing until you just dropped dead? How do you think that makes me feel?"

Without a word Frank slid his brown eyes up, and Joe could suddenly see just how broken his brother was. That tore at something inside the younger boy, and with a burst of regret and sympathy, Joe relaxed his harsh grip and let one of his arms fall to his side. He sighed resignedly. "Alright, Frank, I can't make you talk about it. Just...we'll get back to our old selves together, right?" With a half-forced smile he gestured to his own figure. "You'll have to catch up with me, though, big brother. Bet you can't beat me," he challenged with a wink as he sat on his bed. He saw that his attempt to lighten the mood had worked as he caught a flash of a smile on Frank's face and a nod.

Joe let his gaze travel around the room, noting how nothing had changed. As he caught sight of his wall calendar still turned to three months ago, the golden-haired brother tilted his head, trying to remember correctly. "Hey, bro, what day is it?"

Frank shrugged, not sure why he wanted to know. "I don't know, Tuesday?"

Joe waved his hand in an 'elaborate, please' motion. "No, no, what's the date?"

"July 14th, why?"

A broad grin broke across Joe's face. "Hey! I thought it had to be about that time. As I told you, I tried to count the days, but I didn't know how accurate I was. Anyway," he half stood up and held out his hand for Frank to high five, "happy birthday, man! Nineteen, huh? You're sure getting old!" His smile wavered slightly. "Sorry I couldn't get you anything." He gave Frank a remorseful look, even though there was no way it was his fault.

The look on Joe's face was just so woefully contrite—like a puppy that had just disappointed its owner—that tears welled in Frank's eyes as he swept Joe into one last, heartfelt embrace. Stupid, stupid Joe, he thought. "Don't be stupid, Joe. You being here...I'd never ask for anything more."

After a few more moments he pulled back with a joyous smile that lit up the room before looking around like Joe had. "I...I haven't been in here since..." His gaze alighted back on Joe and now that what had been missing had returned, he no longer feared this room and everything it had implied when empty.

They shared a short time of comfortable silence, then Frank reached out a hand and mussed Joe's hair affectionately. "What do you say we get some sleep?" When Joe yawned hugely in answer, Frank laughed heartily, the first time in months, and it felt good. "The sooner we do, the sooner we can get up and fill everybody in, right, kiddo?"

Joe nodded. He was looking forward to it. "Sounds like a plan to me." He immediately collapsed on his bed, groaning softly when his sore body complained, and murmured, "I'm serious, I don't even know how I'm still coherent right now. I'm so tire...so tired I could sleep for..." His voice trailed off as his head fell to the side.

Chuckling softly, Frank stepped forward and helped Joe get fully on the bed and under the covers. Gazing fondly down at his little brother, Frank hesitantly started for the door that led to his own room. He hated leaving Joe so soon after getting him back, but he wouldn't be far away. He switched off the light and with one last check on Joe, he ghosted into his own room, pausing just as he entered. With a huge, liberating breath he smiled to himself. Losing his shoes as he went, he glided to his bed and just like Joe fell into it with all his clothes on. He didn't even bother with the covers and rested his head on his pillow.

He was on the brink of sleep a couple minutes later when he heard his door creak nearly inaudibly. He cracked open his eyes in time to see his brother arrive at the edge of his bed. He was surprised to see the silhouette of his brother trembling slightly.

With an instinctive feeling of understanding, he sensed that Joe did not want to be alone in his dark room; it brought back too many of the horrors of his long-term isolation. The older brother shifted over so he was near the wall and in moments was wrapping his arms around the other boy, comforting, protecting, like when they were younger and Joe had had a nightmare. Frank tucked the blond head under his chin and whispered soothingly, "It's okay, Joe. You're not alone anymore."

Joe's trembling stilled and his breathing evened out as he fell asleep nearly instantly, safe in his brother's arms. One thing Frank knew for sure—Joe would be safe now, he'd make sure of it. He knew this just as he knew he would not endure any nightmares of his own tonight.