It has been a lifetime since I last updated this story so for that I am very sorry. I wanted to have a few more chapters ready before I posted again. I am not really happy with this chapter but I thought I would post it anyway so I could move on with the story. Enjoy! :)

Chapter Nineteen: The Farm

The sun had only just begun to appear over the rolling hills when Brax arrived at his uncle's farm. He was exhausted and covered in scrapes and bruises from the many tumbles he had made on the dark journey, but the sight of the farm made all the aches fade away.

Brax slowly walked into the silent farmhouse. The floorboards groaned as Brax made his way down the hallway. "Heath?" he called. Nothing. "Heath?" he tried again. Brax walked into the lounge room and he saw his uncle passed out on the couch, a near empty bottle of gin clutched in his hand. Brax sighed. It was not unfamiliar or unexpected but his fears began to grow for the welfare of his brother. Brax walked over to his uncle and grabbed the bottle out of his hand, slamming it loudly onto the nearby table. "Uncle Bryan," Brax shook the man but he did not stir. "Uncle," Brax yelled this time, giving a big shove. His uncle jumped up, startled.

"Who's there?" the man bellowed, looking around, clearly disorientated.

"Me," Brax moved to stand in front of his uncle.

"Oh it's you," the man slumped back down onto the couch. "What are you doin' 'ere Darryl? I thought I told em I couldn't take ya in?"

Brax ignored the question. "I need to see Heath."

"Good! I might finally get some peace around 'ere. 'e's been crying for you since the damn minute 'e got 'ere. Brax this, Brax that…. Go and shut 'im up will ya?"

"Where is he?"

"Dunno," the man reached over and grabbed the gin and took a swig from the bottle.

Brax sighed. "Thanks," he snapped and turned back towards the hallway. It was early, so he headed to the spare bedroom. Heath didn't usually like to sleep in but there was no sign of him running around the house so Brax hoped he was still asleep.

He quickly opened the door of the room, anxious to see his brother. The scene in front of him simultaneously filled him with relief and panic. Relief because Heath was indeed in the bedroom, but panic because something was clearly wrong. Heath was lying on the bed covered in sweat and the white sheets were splattered with blood.

Brax sprinted over and knelt beside his brother. "Heath?" he tried to nudge him awake. "Heath wake up!"

Heath began to stir and let out a groan.

"Heath, are you OK? What happened?" Brax put his hand on Heath's forehead. His skin was alarmingly hot and clammy.

"I want Braxxxx," the boy quietly sobbed.

"Yeah, it's me Heath. It's Brax. I'm here," Brax hopped up onto the bed and gently grabbed hold of Heath's arms. "I'm here mate."

"Where's Brax? I want Brax," Heath wept.

"I'm here Heath, I'm here," Brax exclaimed. Heath's glassy eyes stared at Brax but he wasn't taking anything in. Brax started to panic. Something was seriously wrong with his brother. Brax pulled back the sheet to try and find the source of the blood. It was clear immediately. Heath's ankle was wrapped in an old tatty tea towel that was completely soaked in blood. Brax removed the tea towel as gently as he could but Heath cried out in pain. Brax gasped in horror at what he saw. Heath's foot was swollen and red and caked in blood from a jagged wound that wrapped around his entire ankle. Parts of the skin had not closed up and were weeping with pus.

"Oh Heath," Brax whispered feeling worried and full of guilt. He stood up and squeezed Heath's hand. "Hold on, I'm going to get help. It's going to be OK."

Brax rushed back out to his uncle. He had fallen back asleep and Brax slapped him awake.

"Oi," the man grunted. "Whatta think you're doin'?" Bryan sat up.

"I could ask you the same thing. What happened to Heath's foot? And why haven't you taken him to get it fixed?" Brax questioned.

"It's just a little cut. 'e's alright."

"Just a little cut? Whatever it was has nearly sliced his whole foot off. And now it's infected," Brax hollered in anger. "He's not alright! He needs to go to the hospital."

Bryan stood up. He was a tall man and he stared commandingly down at Brax. "No! No doctors and no 'ospital."

"Why not?" Brax stood his ground, refusing to let his uncle intimidate him.

"Cos I said so."

"What happened to Heath's foot?"

"The drongo stepped in one of me steel jaw rabbit traps. I warned 'im to stay off that paddock but 'e didn't listen."

"What? How long was he trapped?" Brax quietly inquired, unable to hide his horror.

"Not long, I couldn't stand the noise. He squealed louder than any wounded animal I've ever 'eard."

Brax gave his uncle a forceful shove. "How could you leave him to suffer like this? He needs a doctor."

Bryan grabbed his nephew by the throat and pinned him against the wall. "Now you listen 'ere boy," Brax struggled to escape his uncle's grip but it was too tight. "You don't call the shots in this 'ouse, I do. I won't be takin' orders from the likes of you. You've always been too big for ya boots Darryl and that's why I didn't want ya 'ere. That useless father of yours 'as taught ya nothin' about respect." Bryan gripped Brax's throat even tighter as he moved his face closer to his nephew. "Now listen carefully. I'm on me last warnin' from the coppers about havin' illegal traps on me property. If I get caught again, they'll throw me in the slammer. Any doctor is goin' go straight to the pigs the second they see Heath's foot. I'm not doin' time cos your stupid brother is whining like a girl about a cut to the foot. He's goin' have to suck it up. Do I make myself clear?" Brax couldn't speak, he was gasping for air. "Do I make myself clear?" Bryan bellowed.

Brax nodded and Bryan released his grip. Brax coughed and clutched his throat as he quickly rushed away from his uncle and made his way to the bathroom of the farmhouse. Brax searched the cupboards for anything that would help him get Heath cleaned up and ease some of the pain. As soon as he found what he needed he made his way back to the bedroom.

Heath was now slightly more alert and he was softly sobbing to himself. Brax walked over and sat on the edge of the bed. "Hey mate, I'm here," he said gently touching Heath's arm.

"Where's Brax?" Heath quietly cried.

"It's me Brax, I'm here now."

"Brax?" Heath sat up and looked Brax in the eyes.

"Yes mate, it's me."

"Brax," Heath cried and threw his arms around his big brother, tears flowing down his face. Brax hugged Heath back, rubbing his brother's back as he continued to cry. Heath didn't let go and Brax continued to hold him. Heath was never really one for hugs but the separation from Brax, being taken from his home and the horrendous trap injury had taken their toll and the emotion came pouring out. Heath never wanted to let go of his brother. When things were bad his only comfort was having Brax by his side and without him everything was too much to deal with.

Brax finally managed to loosen Heath's grip on him. "Heath I need to look at your foot."

Heath shook his head. "No! It hurts Brax."

"I know mate, but I need to clean it and make it better." Brax tipped some Dettol on a cloth and lent down to clean Heath's wound but he pulled away.

"No, don't touch it," Heath pleaded.

"Stay still, I need to fix it up," Brax said sternly as he held Heath's leg still and started to softly wipe the cut. Heath sobbed even though Brax was being as gentle as he could. When Brax was finished cleaning the wound he used a cold cloth to wipe some the sweat from Heath's face and gave him some water to drink. When Heath was finished.

Brax stood up to get him some more water but Heath reached out and grabbed him. "No! Stay here."

"I'm just going to get you some more water," Brax explained.

"No, stay here." Heath begged.

Brax sat back down. "I'm not going anywhere."

-x-

Heath continued to slip in and out of consciousness throughout the morning. Brax sat helplessly by his side, holding his hand. The infection was taking hold and Brax knew if he didn't get his brother to a doctor soon it would be too late. "Heath, I'm going to get help. Hold on," Brax whispered. Brax quietly left the room and listened for signs of his uncle. The house was silent. He walked silently over to the phone and picked up the receiver. He heard the click of the rifle before he saw it.

"Drop that phone!" Bryan bellowed.

Brax let go of the receiver and slowly turned to face his uncle, who had the barrel of his gun pointed directly at Brax's head. "If you disobey me again, I'll shoot you and ya brother. Do you understand?"

Brax nodded.

"Do you understand?" Bryan yelled as he shoved the gun into Brax's head.

"Yes."

Bryan dropped the gun. "Good. Now get outta me face!"

Brax walked back to the bedroom and Bryan slammed the door shut behind him. Heath stirred. "Where's Brax?" he croaked.

"I'm here Heath, I'm here." Brax slumped down on the floor feeling defeated. He knew he was fast running out of time and options.