Boosting - Chapter 23

Joe rode into the basement-parking garage of Frank's apartment building to find with relief that the black motorcycle was there. It had been parked badly with Frank's helmet hanging abandoned on the handlebars, asking to be stolen – evidence enough that his brother was at home. Joe pulled in next to it and took a little time to reposition both bikes and then headed for the elevator with both sets of helmets.

He rode up to his brother's floor and stepped out, half expecting to come face-to-face with Frank waiting to take the elevator back down. Moving to Frank's front door, he put the helmets down and carefully tried the handle, turning it slowly to prevent any noise. He didn't want to alert his brother to his presence, preferring the element of surprise. It was locked, so he took the keys out his mother had given to him, inserted, twisted and pushed the door open – all in one fluid movement. He stepped silently over the threshold, and locked the door behind him.

Joe headed for the living room, but as soon as he was at the end of the hallway, he was spinning upon hearing and seeing a movement. He evidently hadn't been quite as clandestine as he thought as Frank had been waiting for him to pass before ducking of his bedroom to get to the front door. He was now brandishing his own key, getting the door open to get out.

Joe took the five or so paces at a fast run and, like his mother earlier, got his palms to the door and pounded it shut just as Frank got it open.

"Not this time, man," Joe said determinedly and used his larger weight to barge his older brother aside. Frank didn't let go of the key or the doorknob however and continued trying to open it until Joe brought his forearm down to knock his hold loose. Finally, Joe was able to force himself between the door and his brother, locking it again – all the while Frank shouting angrily and pulling at him, wanting him out. Joe turned to face him.

"Give it back!" Frank ordered. "Give me back my key!"

Joe slapped it into his brother's waiting palm, noting the open suitcase on Frank's bed through the doorway. It was half packed and Joe was certain that if he'd left it much longer he'd have come back to an empty apartment. "You need to give me a chance to explain – you owe me that much at least." He pointed towards the living room and took Frank by the upper arm to turn and make him accompany him. "Dude, let's go and sit down, we need to talk."

"Is that right?" Frank asked, resisting and pulling his arm clear. "Be my guest, knock yourself out, I'm finishing my packing."

Joe folded his arms and leaned back against the door. "If you think I'm giving you the chance to run away again you're gonna be disappointed."

"It's a Mexican standoff then!" Frank said churlishly, and broke eye contact to push his key into his jeans pocket and out of harms way.

Watching Frank, Joe suddenly remembering what had dawned on him when he'd been arguing with 'Sandy Hair' at the cabin the previous night – the fact that Frank was always so in control. Joe considered now was perhaps the time for the control that Frank was hiding behind to be mixed up a little. Force him to face up to a few truths. His mom had told Joe to 'take it gently'..."But treading softly hasn't worked up until now, right?"

Joe made a sudden forward movement, bending and thrusting himself at his brother. He grabbed Frank around the back of the legs, lifted him onto his shoulders and then drove them both forward through the doorway into the living room. He didn't stop until his shins came up against the sofa's arm, the jarring impetus throwing Frank from his shoulders and onto the cushions. The crashing weight resulting in the sofa shifting about a foot across the wooden floor. "I said we're talking!" Joe said, forcibly.

"Dammit Joe!"

"And damn you, Frank!" Joe shouted, storming around to the front and stabbing himself in the chest with his forefinger. "How do you think it made me feel when you said I'd lost the 'privilege' of your trust? What kind of a crappy, cheap comment was that to throw? All I've done is try and help these last few weeks and you've given zilch back! What have I done to you that you couldn't at least give me the benefit of the doubt?"

"You drugged me!" Frank shouted back, and got up off the sofa to get up into his face. "You had nightmares yourself once, you must have known what you were sentencing me too."

"Frank, you told me nadda and it wasn't because I didn't ask. If you'd told me how terrifying yours were, I never would have slipped you those pills in a million years. Mine weren't comparable, my waking nightmares were far worse than my sleeping ones. It wouldn't have been the same for me. And where did you get the notion that I'd taken on the job of slipping you drugs to make you more 'compliant'? That really is crazy talk. I did it to stop you falling asleep on your bike and getting yourself killed."

"Well maybe that would have been the best thing for everyone? At least then you wouldn't have to worry about me any more. You would've done everyone a favor – you'd have been a hero!"

Joe's mouth dropped open, unable to comprehend why his brother would even want to make such a horrendously hurtful and thoughtless comment. Then Joe's lips were shutting into a tight white line as he grew angry, phenomenally angry, uncontrollably, dangerously, splittingly angry. Any residual patience he had for giving leeway to his brother's strange and irrational behaviour sent running for cover. His arms shot out and he gave Frank an almighty shove, near enough lifting him off his feet and propelling him at the sofa again. This time when he hit, the whole thing tipped over and catapulted him off the back and onto the wooden floor beyond, before settling back on its casters, obliterating Joe's view of Frank on the other side.

Joe didn't know the reaction Frank had expected to receive after his intransigent comment, but Joe was willing to bet it wasn't this – maybe he'd expected Joe to leave? If that was the case, Frank was very very mistaken.

Striding purposefully around the leather sofa, Joe stretched to hook on to the scruff of his brother's neck and hoisted him up into his face with one arm. Frank immediately grabbed onto his wrist, but from the angle he was being held, there was little point in struggling, as there was no way he would be freeing himself quickly, especially with his knee injury and with Joe riding high on his anger.

"Pathetic Frank, really pathetic! Do you know what? I'm starting to realise that maybe losing you as a partner isn't such a bad thing – you've gone weak, and I couldn't work with someone I'd have to baby sit twenty-four seven. The way you've been lately – it's making me ashamed to admit I've even got a brother, let alone a partner. So, as far as I'm concerned you can stay here and drown in a pit of your own misery for all I care, I'm done with it. Now why don't you just…get out of my face, I'm sick of looking at you!" And with those stinging words hanging in the air, Joe ridded himself of his brother by dropping him back down to the ground with a firm push.

Instantaneously, Frank was up and was coming back at him, his reflexes so fast that Joe didn't see his fist coming. One moment Joe was on his feet, having half turned to leave the apartment, immobile and beginning to reject and lament what he'd said, and then he was slammed face down into the floor, feeling as though his jaw was broken in about eight places.

And then before he could recover, he was yanked over onto his back and Frank was on him, pushing him down and holding him, both arms pinned by legs, throat gripped by a strangle hold. Joe looked up and saw his brother, a stranger, his eyes livid and glazed over, teeth bared, hand readied and drawn back for a second blow – and from somewhere a large and wickedly heavy paperweight in its palm. The arm began its descent, Frank demonstrating only too clearly that he wasn't holding back any feelings now and that he was full of passion, spirit and fight…too full of fight!

"FRANK…NO!"

Joe saw his brother physically snap. His head jerked back as a thunderbolt of reality seared through the raw fury, sending him crashing into the reality of what he was about to do. His pupils focused, his mouth twitched, and he managed somehow to deviate the downward arc of his makeshift weapon, enough that the hit, instead of coming into direct contact with Joe's head, skimmed his temple and was driven into the floor. Joe felt the vibration of the impact against his head and across his shoulders.

They stayed frozen for a few long shocking seconds in a ghastly tableau, eyes locked and gasping for air. Scarcely believing what had just happened, how out of control everything had gotten, and what had barely been prevented. If Frank had been a hair's-breath quicker, if he hadn't taken time turning his brother over, if Joe's mouth had been so broken that he hadn't been able to shout out, if Frank's throttling hold had been tighter—.

Eventually, Frank closed his eyes, dropped his head and released Joe from under his body to crawl a short distance away, his hands brushing and patting gently as they withdrew. "I'm sorry…I'm sorry…"

Joe sat up stunned and prodded his jaw, it made a creaking sound and he was rewarded a shooting pain up his cheek and across his scalp. He assumed it must have been half dislocated and the pushing action had slotted it back into place. He turned to discuss the possibility that his brother had punched him so hard that he'd knocked his jaw out of whack, when Frank started making a noise that Joe hadn't heard him make in a very long time – in fact, on reflection; he didn't think he'd ever heard this particular sound.

Frank was bawling his head off and it was honest, heartfelt, gut-wrenching and really, really loud!

Joe's instant reaction was: "Holy crap!!!" and a lump the size of his fist travelled painfully up his craw.

He scrambled up and went to put his hands against his brother's shoulders. "I didn't mean it Frank," he said, his voice shaking. But this time, his brother didn't react, simply continued wailing miserably and choking, hot tears streaming. He was on his knees, his arms wrapped under his stomach, rocking slightly. It was clear he was incapable of any sort of counteraction, other than to focus on those feelings that had been dormant for so long, feelings that were now wreaking uncontainable havoc.

Joe left him to run quickly to the kitchen. "Aw man, aw man! I broke him, I broke my own brother! I snapped him into tiny pieces and sent him into meltdown!" Joe's face was hot with remorse and shame as he ran a towel quickly under the faucet and filled a glass with water. "I went too far this time…way too far! Why did I say he was pathetic? – I can't believe I said that he was pathetic…god…the bit about being ashamed to admit he's my brother…what was I thinking!?" he grimaced and groaned at the memory and ran the back of his hand across his forehead. "How the hell am I supposed to fix him now? Jeeze – I am so brainless!"

He returned to Frank, who was now slumped back, his forearm across his face. He'd quieted down somewhat, but was still shuddering. "C'mon Frank," Joe said gently and hunkered down. He placed the glass to one side and eased his brother's arm away so he could wipe his face with the damp towel.

Frank snatched it from him, pressed it to his eyes and hunched over. "I'm sorry, I spew out so much bile. I'm so tired all the time."

"Frank, I didn't mean what I said. I was firing from the hip like I always do. I'm such a dumb-ass."

Frank shook his head and made a choking noise.

"Do you want me to get mom?"

Another quick round of head shaking.

"Dude, do you—"

Frank put his palm out. "—Don't speak." his voice wasn't aggressive or unfriendly. In fact, if anything, it was a mixture of authority with a whole bunch of regret. He was beginning to sound like the old Frank, so Joe sat back and bided his time.

Eventually, Frank removed the cloth and accepted the glass of water in an unsteady hand. He took a couple of shallow sips and gave it back.

"Frank, I—"

"—Don't Joe, I am goin' to explain some stuff, but I need a moment."

"Okay."

Frank covered his face again for another couple of minutes and then lowered the towel and started finally talking.

"You all think I've got no fight in me, don't you, that I've given up?"

Joe nodded.

"I have, it's true, but not because I don't have any anger or fight in me. You've no idea how much I'm restraining myself every single day. I'm so hot it's burning me up, but who can I let it out at – you, Nancy? That wouldn't be right; I mean, look what just happened, I nearly caved your head in! I can't even go to my martial arts training because of my knee so there's no outlet. The people I want to vent at are gone and there isn't anyone to fight." Frank sighed. "And you all think I've been pushing you away as well, don't you?"

Joe nodded again.

"And that's probably the truth too. The real reason that I've been retreating is because…and I feel like such a wimp…I'm scared." He put his hand to his chest. "Not for me though, for all of you. During the whole Pandora thing, those guys used threats of harming or killing you to try and make me give up the memory stick. I was being intimidated for the entire time I had the key, not only when you were taken, but for months before they jacked up their game. Dad figured it out, but I don't think he told you, did he? Didn't you notice I had a new phone every few weeks?"

Joe's eyebrows knitted together. Now that he thought about it, Frank did go through a stage of losing phones and he'd stopped being quite so much fun in the office, preferring instead his own company.

Frank's voice had grown hoarse, so Joe offered him the water again. He accepted the glass back and took another couple of sips before continuing: "Arthur Gray told me you were all protected. He basically lied, he couldn't promise that, not for the entire time I had control of the key. The only protection we had was that poor sap they threw off the cliff. The Network couldn't even look after him, and he was one of their own!"

Joe narrowed his eyes.

"So I made a deal with the leader of the Posse – a deal with the Devil. I made him promise that if I gave up Pandora and let him kill me, he'd leave you all alone. He gave me his word and I believed him. So you hit the nail on the head before when you called it a suicide mission, because that was essentially what it became. And the worst part about the whole thing? By surviving, and not cooperating, I ultimately double-crossed him. One day he'll be back to settle the score, so, I know it sounds crazy, but on one level, I wished you'd never revived me, because then he wouldn't have the excuse to come back at all."

Joe opened his mouth to say something, but Frank interrupted him.

"No, don't say anything, let me get this out." Frank audibly inhaled and continued: "It may be that he'll never seek us out, but that doesn't mean someone else won't take the opportunity to pull the same trick on me. My big weakness is out there; it's a known entity. I've been putting a protective barrier around myself. I was pushing you away so you'd all be safe."

Frank gave a bittersweet smile. "It worked well, huh? Because you find me pitiful and pathetic and you're embarrassed to call me brother and you don't want me as a partner. And I've only got myself to blame because I've been a pain in the ass." His eyes threatened to overspill, so he quickly looked away.

"Can I speak?" Joe asked.

Frank shrugged and ran the heel of his hand across his face before, for an instant, glancing into Joe's eyes. It was for the merest second, but it was long enough for Joe to recognise a very familiar Frank. "At last – there he is, not the Cyborg we've been living with for weeks, but the real Frankster!" At that moment, all Joe wanted to do was leap on him in celebration, but he knew the timing would have been very wrong and so continued with what he was going to say. "Your logic is flawed, dude."

Frank glanced back again and frowned.

"Yeah, you made a pact with the leader, but distancing yourself or running won't stop him from comin' after us, even if he gets the chance to. Besides which…even if you had died that night, you still hadn't given them the memory stick. So we're all potentially doomed whichever direction you look at it. So you might as well play the safety-in-numbers game and run with the herd."

Giving Joe's point due consideration, Frank was forced to nod in agreement.

"When I was on the ground after I'd been shocked and they thought I was unconscious, one of the Posse said something about us 'being close-knit', that we'd give up 'even our lives' for each other. That's true, dude, of all of us, not just you." Joe held up an index finger. "But they made one fundamental, schoolboy error, and that was to refer to it as a 'weakness'. It's not a flaw; it's a powerful thing. We support one another, we fight shoulder-to-shoulder, and most importantly – we never give up. And that's why they ultimately lost. What you're actually achieving by fracturing yourself from us is to create your greatest weakness, not ridding yourself of it."

He reached out and gripped his brother's wrist. "So what if he does come back? What's he gonna do that's any worse than what he did already? It's not like we haven't been down that road before, and next time, you won't be facing the danger alone."

Joe shook his brother's arm. "Don't forget you won in the end – you kicked their asses big time Bro! If someone beat me like you did them, I wouldn't be coming back for second helpings. You outwitted and outgunned them practically single-handed, and now The Network have them under wraps."

Joe shuffled closer "As for the other stuff I said—" he put his hand against the back of Frank's neck, looking him squarely in the eye. "—It was unforgivable and I didn't mean a word of it. You wouldn't believe how evil I feel now, I'd never ever be embarrassed to call you brother and I don't think you're pitiful, quite the opposite. What you did for me, for us all, it was amazing, you know?"

He pulled Frank's face in even closer, practically touching foreheads. "But you've got to promise me one thing: stop internalising. I did that when Iola was killed, and no good came of it. Don't go down that same road, that's where the dark places are. You need to get off the downward spiral you're riding, for your own sake, not ours."

Frank's eyes slid away for an instant before shifting back. "Okay."

"And can you stop referring to yourself as being 'crazy', 'nuts' or 'psycho'? Cause you're not, you're ill and there's a massive difference. The Posse were psychos, you're not. And anyway, a little bit of craziness never hurt anyone. When you say stuff like that, it makes us all feel bad."

"Okay, I'll try not to – but I warn you, that'll be a toughie!"

Joe suddenly smiled. "And can we make a pact?"

"What?"

"Please don't try caving my head in again, cause that was seriously scary and way not cool!"

"If we're on that subject, can I ask that you don't throw me into the air again? Bro, you don't know your own strength! Landing on a wooden floor kills!"

"Agreed," Joe said. "Now give me a man hug, Dude, but don't squeeze my butt this time."

Frank chuckled and they both embraced.

Joe immediately noted that the tension in his brother's shoulder's seemed to have finally lifted and he was loose and relaxed. He pounded his brother's back and grinned broadly, experiencing the natural high of a job well done. Then he grimaced. "I feel like crap."

"Join the club. I've been feeling guilty for weeks."

"I don't mean that, I mean my jaw, I think you broke it. It hurts to smile."

Frank pulled back and looked through tired, blood-shot eyes. "I didn't hit you that hard did I?"

"Are you kidding me? You near as damn took my head clean off."

Frank positioned his thumbs against each side of Joe's jawbone. "Open and close…now side-to-side. Nah, it's not busted, don't be such a wimp."

"Dude, a little sympathy here!" Joe protested good-naturedly and got up. "C'mon." He slipped his hand under his brother's elbow to help him.

"Ouch!" Frank muttered once he was upright, hopping slightly when he tried to put his weight on his injured leg.

"Your knee again?" Joe asked.

"It'll never be right, will it? I'm gonna have to lean on you for a while."