A/N: Here it is! The next "Behind Darkened Eyes" installment! I really hope that you like this one...I've added a very interesting twist, so I hope that makes it more mysterious and enjoyable! Also, due to the current state of Callie and Vanessa (motherhood), Hope will again be a prominent character for the sake of a "feminine influence." I know my fan base is limited and I understand readers apprehensions about this series, what with my original characters and supernatural angles. But still I hope that if you do enjoy reading it that you will leave me a review! They inspire me to keep writing! It might be my extreme OCD but I was very pleased with the even 45 reviews I got for "Forgotten Year" and hope to get just as many or more for this one! I hope you like Drops of Crimson, I take pleasure in writing it! Alrighty then, thank you to all my readers...here we go...

Disclaimer: I have great sorrow that I do not own any of Mr. Dixon's characters...but my original characters and plots are my own. However, I am just borrowing Nicko Prito and Jamie Hooper from another wonderful writer, United. Most places referred to in this story are real, but the plot revolving around them is fictional. I don't own any lyrics or quotes either. I apologize for ruffing the boys up, but I do promise to put them back nicely when I'm done...hopefully in one piece. This is the disclaimer for the whole story and I'm only posting it once, right here. There you go.

Prologue:

The Thorns of the Rose

Why does my heart still search for an answer?
Why does my heart keep reaching for the sun?
If I still search, I know I'll discover,
What makes the rivers flow?
Why do flowers bloom and...
How am I to know?
Someone tell why, oh why...
There are thorns on the roses.

Why, tell me why, my heart keeps
calling for me?
Why does my heart reach for the sun?
If I just search,
I know I'll keep from falling.

What makes winter snow?
Why do sparrows sing and...
How am I to know?
Why are there thorns on the roses?

Because the thorns of the roses
are pricking like a knife
and cutting to the core.
And, oh, those thorns of the roses...

Why do I feel so strange?
It's mystifying!
Why do my heart and soul inside keep
crying?

If I just search, I know I'll keep from falling.
If I keep reaching for the sun.
Maybe then I'll know why my heart
keeps calling.
Maybe then I'll know...

Why the rivers flow and
What makes flowers bloom,
Why there's winter snow and...
Why do sparrows sing,
Why the church bells ring and
Why the moonlight glows...

Then I'll know why...oh, why...
There are thorns on the roses...

-Laraine Elizabeth Turner

...

Time had moved to a stand still. Everything was silent.

Hope was reasoning with her emotions...

Biff was wishing this was a dream...

Frank was bargaining with God...

Tony was feeling dizzy...fainting...

Akacia was fighting with her heart...

And I was trying to sort through all of these feelings.

...

If you are one of those people who are ever logical, ever sensible, ever non-believing, then this is not the story for you.

But if you believe...

Let me start from the beginning...

My name is Joseph Paul Hardy. I am 24 years old. I have a son and a wife that I would die for. I've taken more than my fare share of bullets, punches, and mental torture in my short lifetime. More than anyone should ever have to.

But I am alive. Or at least as alive as I can perceive myself to be.

However. My definition of "alive" is most likely different than yours. But that part will come later on…

If you are willing to believe my story then you must do three things...

1. Take a steady breath.

2. Forget all of your common sense and logic.

3. And turn the page..