A/N: This chapter is absolutely necessary, though it might not be what you're thinking it will. And it might be a bit…odd? Sorry, I've been home for the past week with mono and woke up this morning with the desire to read and write as much as I could, which is an improvement, for those of you who haven't had mono yet. So, warped chapter ahead, but I like.

There are things worse than death. Yes, I really believe that. If I were to outlive my brother or my friends…yes. That would be worse than death. Runyard Kostick

Frank

I stayed up late with Joe, who for some reason didn't want to go to sleep. I didn't blame him. Sleep had eluded me for the last few nights and there was nothing indicating that it wouldn't do the same tonight. So I patiently played four rounds of chess (which Joe was never very good at) as I waited for him to open up.

I had captured his king for the third time in a row and was in the process of setting up another game when he started talking. "Are you okay, Frank?"

Though the question took me by surprise, I tried not to show it. Rooks in the corners, then Knights. I used to love naming the pieces. "Of course I'm okay, Joe. It's you everyone's worried about." I looked up at him then, in time to catch the face he was making. I knew he hated being treated like a child, but he had almost died. He had died.

Joe looked at my setup before switching his King and Queen. He never could get their order right. "I don't think it's me they should be worrying about."

Okay. I didn't know how to answer that. I carefully lined up the pawns so that they were in a perfect row.

"Frank." Joe's voice was low. "I'm really fine, Frank." He touched my hand before he reached for his last pawn. I couldn't help it anymore. The tears were still there even after I wiped them away. I leaned back in my seat, running my hand through my hair in a motion Joe says I do entirely too often. Finally, I managed to get the words I wanted out.

"You're not fine, Little Buddy." I was embarrassed that my voice cracked but kept going on, finding anger behind those words and startled by it. "You're as far from fine as possible. Joe…you were shot. You had a concussion. You died, Joey!"

Either the information or my voice must have scarred him because he flinched back. I felt terrible when he hissed in pain and immediately made my voice lower. "Joe…you don't know how terrible it was when I thought you were dead. For hours, Joey. I was so sure you'd die."

He didn't look at me while I was saying this. Instead, he numbly moved one of his pawns forward. We took turns switching from black to white. Neither of us wanted to be one color for very long. When he finally did look at me, I was surprised and sorry to see tears in his eyes. I shouldn't be making Joe cry. I was his brother. I had already failed at protecting him.

"I've been shot before." Joe said quietly, and it was my turn to flinch away from that memory. It had been a bad case from the start, and we had tracked the guys to Africa where they had an elaborate smuggling organization, dealing in humans. Joe had gone undercover as one of the slaves they were selling. They'd found out he was an agent and shot him.

I couldn't' protect him then either.

"This time it's different, Joe." How could I make him see this? I leaned back in my seat and asked a semi-rhetorical question. "You remember anything that happened? Anything at all?"

Joe must have known I knew the answer to that but, he told me anyway, "No. Everything after getting in the car to waking up in the hospital is…gone. Like it never happened."

"It happened, Joe." I said, surprising myself at the ice in my voice. But it wasn't at Joe, it couldn't be. No, all the anger I've felt over the past days have been directed at that kid, the one who tried to kill my brother.

I leaned forward, moving a Knight without thinking about it. "I was in History." I said quietly, and I knew that I had Joe's full attention. "And I heard the first gunshot. Everyone else started panicking, but I knew exactly what it was. I got out of the classroom and grabbed the first kid I saw." My grip was threatening to unhorse the knight but I continued.

"He told me the shots were coming from your side of the school and I knew that you were hurt. I got to you and…" I couldn't' continue. My vision was blurry again and again I wiped the tears aside. I shouldn't be crying. I wasn't hurt. "You had fallen out of your chair. There was blood all over. I didn't even check for a pulse, I picked you up and ran."

It was like the story was out of my hands, like I had to finish it. I didn't even register Joe's expression, half-disgusted, half-scared. "I got you outside and Lloyd took you. I couldn't go, there were so many people they needed to rush to the hospital. But Lloyd, he told me…he told me that your heart stopped."

For the first time since I began I really looked at Joe, and I got up and walked around the table that separated him and drew him into a hug. God, he looked scared. I leaned my cheek against the baseball cap that was covering his bald head and felt another, milder surge of anger.

We stood there, not moving for the longest time before Joe finally broke apart from me. For the first time in many years, I thought my brother looked tiny. Standing in the middle of the room with a sweatshirt on, none of his gold hair falling in his face, he looked a lot younger than seventeen.

"Frank." He looked lost, his eyes looking at me desperately. "Frank…this is all wrong."

I nodded. Everything was wrong. It was October and we weren't in school and wouldn't be for at least another week. Joe had no hair. Joe was playing chess. Joe had gotten shot. A lot of kids had gotten shot. "Everything's wrong."

Joe sat back in the chair and looked blankly at the chess set. Only a pawn and a Knight were moved, everyone else just stood there, watching. Waiting. "He's getting a trial."

"What?" I kneeled next to Joe, putting a hand on his arm. This was not what I had expected Joe to say, and I was shaken by it.

"Him. His name in Jake…something. He did it." Joe didn't seem to be talking to me, instead he was looking at the Bishop he held in his hand, his thumb stroking the cross that was balanced on the figure's head. "He was the one who shot me. Shot everyone. He's alive, Frank, and he's getting a trial."

Now that I knew what Joe was getting at, I grabbed my brother's shaking hand, steadying it until the bishop stopped moving. "Joe, you knew this. He has the right to a fair trial." I knew by Joe's face that he didn't want to hear that, so I said what I was really thinking. "But if I could, Joe, I'd kill him."

He turned to me, eyes wide. "You wouldn't." Again, it looked as if I had frightened him, and I was immediately sorry for it.

I couldn't with good conscious say that I wouldn't. If there was no law, no consequences, just that…monster…and what he had done to Joe? I would kill him. But knowing that I was scaring Joe I hugged him again. "Of course I wouldn't, Joey. I couldn't with you around."

This was true too. I modeled almost everything I did off of Joe. I knew when I did something that I would regret, he'd notice. It used to be awkward having Joe look up to me so much, but now I used that to make me a better person. Corny as it sounded, Joe kept me in line.

I moved to get off him, worried about hurting his stomach or chest or head or the other hurts I wasn't supposed to know about, but Joe held me. "Frank…" He sounded so scared. "Frank, don't leave me."

I pulled Joe from the chair to a nearby couch and held him, rage building in me once again as I felt him shaking with cold and fear. "I won't leave you, Little Buddy.

I promise."

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