Frank limped to his brother and slowly lowered himself to the ground with a bump and a hiss. He was very much feeling every ache and pain in his body at that moment. The adrenaline which had kept him moving for most of the day had finally had the chance to disperse. The trade off was knowing the precise location of each and every cut and bruise he had obtained. He licked at the drying blood on his split lip and hissed once again.

The moment he had alerted the Chief to Dante's disappearing act, the rooftop had become a whirlwind of movement. Ezra finally felt enough control to get every reserve member of the force onto the scene to contain it. They had combed the area but in the time it had taken to get the rest of the officers onto the roof, Dante had managed to use the distraction of the team's hero shot to melt away. Presumably off into the sunset.

Frank glanced over the rooftop which had now calmed to a slow simmer of activity. He noted the blanket being placed around the still seated form of Maria by a medical personal who then knelt to deal with the still angry looking burn on her cheek. She turned her head towards the brothers, a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth as she tried to communicate a thanks without words, the effect ruined slightly by the tears still leaking from her eyes. From the corner of his eye, Frank saw Joe nodding a thanks in return. Maria had helped him get back onto his feet and her bravery would not be forgotten for a long while.

Frank pulled an arm across his aching ribs in an attempt to sooth them as he shifted his position, trying to find a way to sit which didn't hurt. An apparently impossible task. He took a moment to look over Joe who's face was tense with obvious pain, purplish marks of exhaustion standing out against his pale, dirt and blood streaked face like bruises under his eyes. He shifted again, just enough to be able to press a leg against his brother's, instinctively knowing that Joe would appreciate even such a small level of contact. In truth he needed it too. The feelings of despair he had felt over that long day in regards to Joe may have felt like a distant memory in that moment, but they were still raw in his mind.

"Looks like family is cheaper than freedom huh?" Frank said to his brother as they watched paramedics treating Tony, Nick and Pietro with officers stood by waiting for the moment they could wheel them off to the big house. Abbie had been rounded up with little fuss, only pausing to shoot an ice cold stare in the direction of Joe before her head had dropped in defeat.

"Problem is," Joe replied, his voice thick with weariness, "he cut off his own had just to get his chance at freedom. Imagine the lengths he's going to go to to get this lot out from behind bars."

Frank considered his brother's words for a moment, fear squeezing his heart as the truth rang in them. "I imagine security around them is going to be a bit tighter than it was for him after all this."

All this. Two small words which suddenly seemed heavy with the weight of just how many people they'd lost that day at the hands of the ruthless family. Frank saw Joe's head drop from the corner of his eye as the same feelings overwhelmed him. He threw what was meant to be a comforting arm around Joe's shoulders until he felt the muscles spasm beneath his touch.

Joe grit his teeth as his back protested but he still leaned into the half hug. The memory of Mary hitting the ground playing in a stark replay through his mind. He felt his eyes begin to close by themselves as the continued beatings his body had taken over the course of the day crashed down in a wave of pain and fatigue which he'd successfully held back until that moment with sheer stubbornness of will. He swooned, suddenly leaning heavily now into Frank. He was thoroughly burnt out.

"Hey little brother, keep those peepers open," Frank said, a look of concern flashing across his face.

"M'tired," Joe half slurred back. He attempted to shake himself alert at the worry he heard in Frank's voice, but the rooftop had taken on a sudden dream like quality as his broken body felt like it was floating, his vision tunneling.

Frank looked around, relaxing somewhat as he saw two EMTs heading their direction carrying their on site response bags. As one knelt alongside him, he attempted to wave off her ministrations in favour of seeing to Joe first.

"My buddy over there has got your brother sir, and if you don't mind me saying so, you look like crap," she said, putting a hand firmly onto his waving arm.

Frank froze at her touch, seeing she was right and Joe, who had now lain down onto his back with an arm across his eyes, was getting a thorough examination by her colleague. She was right about another thing too. He felt dead on his feet. Finally, he succumbed to her gently probing fingers and swallowed his protest. He suppressed a snort at the thought that they would both in all likelihood be due a visit to a hospital shortly. The last place he wanted to see was the inside of a hospital ever again.

Joe heaved a deep breath, taking a moment to enjoy being by himself. Since he and Frank had been treated in the aftermath of the hostage drama, at Bayport hospital's nearest sister site, it felt like they'd not had a moment alone. Granted it wasn't so long since they'd been almost killed on their last case, but as he'd continued to point out, at least neither of them had been shot this time round. A fact which had neither pleased nor mollified his mother who'd henpecked the brothers to within an inch of their lives. Not that he wasn't grateful for her attentions, or Vanessa's who'd been equally distraught and worried to hear of their latest adventure. But it was getting a tad stifling.

Now four days on from the concluding rooftop drama, he found himself outside of a door leading to yet another ward. It was beginning to feel like he would forever be walking the hallways of hospitals. He tapped on it quietly so as to not startle the occupant before heading inside at the breathy "come in?"

Joe opened the door and entered the darkened room, the smile lighting up his face at the sight of Doctor Edwards dispelling most of the gloom. The good doctor looked like hell it was true. But Joe was entirely pleased to see that he was very much alive if not very awake.

"Joe!" Doctor Edwards said as he clapped eyes on the young man entering the room.

"Hey doc, I heard you were up and at them again so I figured I'd come drop in and say hi," Joe said, carefully stepping around what looked to be a mountain of cards, gifts and flowers from well wishers which littered the ward.

"From my family," the doctor said breathlessly, motioning with his head at the gigantic pile, "and the nurses, and just about anyone else who works in the hospital."

He was currently propped up in a bed in the ward where he had been flown to on the day of the stand off. The main hospital was now back up and running, though the third floor was very much off limits due to ongoing investigations, but it had been deemed too soon to be moving him back to a local bed for a good while yet to come.

"Well what do you expect dude, you're a hero," Joe said with a sad grin. The doctor was a genuinely good guy and it had pained him to see him take a bullet.

"Nah not me," he replied shaking his head slowly so as not to jolt his wounds, "I think that title entirely rests with you and your brother."

He took a moment then to really look at the downtrodden young man before him. Joe's face was pretty beat up although a couple of butterfly bandages seemed to be just about holding him together. His arm was in a sling and strapped across his chest in an attempt to limit function and give his shoulder time to recuperate. But it was in his eyes that the Doctor saw the rawest wound. Dark circles spoke of little sleep and they shone a little too bright in the low light of the room.

"Not sleeping huh?" he asked.

"Oh you know me Doc, I'm fine," Joe replied with a grin which masked the sadness he'd let slip into his expression.

"Joe."

With that one quiet word the doctor broke through that mask, and Joe's head fell as he tried to compose himself.

"It's just hard you know," he said so quietly the doctor had to lean towards him slightly to hear. "So many deaths."

The police headquarters had been a sombre place to visit over the last few days as he and his brother had had gone back and forth to give statements and tie up loose ends. The pain he was feeling was reflected on each of the men and women in the station and in the eyes of his own brother. But the worst was in Ezra. The Chief had taken each and every death entirely to heart and it was going to take a long time and a lot of therapy to help him through those bleak twenty four hours. Joe shook himself, bringing his focus back to the room and suppressing the dark thoughts. He would address them at some point but right now was a time for celebrating the fact that his doctor and friend had pulled through.

He raised his head again, surprising the doctor with the strength of the smile that broke through.

"Plenty of time for that later," he said pointing at his restricted arm. "You and me are going to be going on a lot more dates over the next few months if your current stand in is right about my stupid shoulder."

The doctor shook his head slightly as he marvelled at his charge. He knew Joe was going to have to confront what had happened at some point but he had no doubt that both his mind and his body would heal over time. The fact that the progress of his shoulder's therapy being knocked back a few months didn't seem to faze him was testament enough to that. He knew it was going to be a long and probably very bumpy road ahead of them, after the abuse it had suffered the wound was probably back at square one, but he was more than willing to push as hard as Joe obviously was. Just as soon as he was done healing himself.

The smile on his face grew a little smaller as a gust of fatigue blew over him. He was still prone to falling asleep mid conversation being so fresh out of the operating theatre. Joe seeing this stood and offered his hand before making to leave.

"I'll leave you in peace for now Doc. You gotta get back onto your feet soon though. Your replacement is a real butthole," he said as the doctor grasped his good hand and shook it.

"Don't worry about me Joseph," he replied sleepily, his eyes closing slowly in the gloom, "I'm Iron Man."

So we're mostly done! I was dissatisfied with the story finishing at 19 chapters, it just seemed uncouth to not knock it up to twenty. So I wrote an epilogue (one which I didn't actually know I needed until it was down on paper).

Thanks so much for the continued support. As always, all comments and critiques are very much welcome.