The black smoke wafted up to the sky, obscuring what was left of the starlight. The flames danced hypnotically in the breeze, casting flickering shadows onto the street below. Sirens swelled far off in the distance drowning out Ryan's anguished cries as he ran blindly towards the burning building.

Aidan and Tad caught up with him and muscled him backwards. Roped cords stood out on Ryan's neck as he strained against their iron grips, continually calling out for his brother until his throat was raw. Firemen began to stream past him, setting up their equipment in a choreographed frenzy. The reflectors on their protective coats winked at him tauntingly in the moonlight.

Ryan broke free again momentarily, catching a firefighter by the arm. "Please... my brother's in there. You've got to get him out of there."

He gave him a sympathetic glance. "We'll send some men in as soon as we can." He eyed the collapsed roof with concern before leaving with a cursory, "Stay back" as he went to confer with his colleagues, strategizing on a way to enter the raging inferno it had now become.

Forceful sprays erupted from the hoses around them sending sooty water dripping down from above. The flames dampened and the re-emerged, stubbornly refusing to be snuffed out. The top corner of the building appeared to crumble in on itself as it too was devoured by the ravenous fire.

An invisible band wrapped around Ryan's chest, squeezing his heart painfully and making it difficult to draw breath as the desperation took over. "Why aren't they going in there? Why aren't they helping him?"

Tad placed a hand on Ryan's shoulder to steady him. "They're trying to get the fire under control. Right now if any more men go in there, the whole thing could collapse."

"So I'm just supposed to sit here and do nothing? No, uh-uh - I've got to go in there."

"Ryan, if you go in there you might not come back out. Emma and Spike need you. Annie needs you. And if, God forbid, Jonathan is in there and he's badly hurt, he's going to need you," Tad stated firmly.

This gave Ryan pause. "So I'm just supposed to sit here and do nothing," he repeated.

"Yeah. Let the professionals handle it."

Tad's words were a harbinger. Loaded down with gear, several men charged into what was left of the building. Ryan's body visibly tightened with fear at what they would find. He watched the man on the walkie-talkie intensely, searching his face for any indication of what was transpiring inside.

A new vehicle pulled up behind one of the fire trucks. The lights were pulsating with an ominous red glow. Ryan was so focused on the ambulance that he did not see one of the firemen reemerge from the still-burning building.

Aidan made his way over to him, being careful to keep his back turned to Ryan. "Have you found anything yet?"

"There wasn't much to find. Just this." He slipped off his glove and dug deep into his pocket and handed Aidan two items.

Aidan fingered the badly charred watch. It was still warm to the touch. His heart fell as he opened the wallet. The credit cards were melted together and the other items were badly singed, but the driver's license behind the plastic case was still legible. It was Jonathan's wallet. "Any sign of him?"

Instead of answering, he tilted his head in Ryan's direction. "Is that the brother?"

"Yeah." Aidan was growing impatient. "And he would greatly appreciate knowing if you found his brother."

The other man shrugged uncomfortably. "Like I said, there wasn't much to find. I really think you should get him out of here."

Aidan had seen enough action in the jungles to understand the duplicit meaning. Ryan would not leave without putting up one hell of a fight. He did the only thing he could think of. He came up behind Ryan and tapped him on the shoulder. When Ryan turned around he landed an uppercut square on his jaw, laying him out.

"What was that for," Tad shouted.

"Friendship," Aidan answered simply. He showed the watch and the wallet to Tad. "He shouldn't be here for this."

"Oh no."

Aidan nodded. "We've got to get him out of here before he starts coming to."

Tad worked solemnly with Aidan to maneuver Ryan into the car. They drove away in silence, each locked inside their own minds. Aidan glanced in the rearview mirror. The undulating lights were still visible, but rapidly shrinking into the distance.

He caught Tad's eyes. Both were wondering the same thing - just how in the hell they were going to break it to Ryan that his last blood relative, the brother he was closer to than anyone in the world, was not coming back to him?

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Aidan shut the door softly behind him. He had helped Tad into the hotel room with Ryan and left again to make absolutely sure that there was no way Jonathan could have made it out alive. He couldn't bear the thought of telling Ryan, and there was a part of him that hung onto the hope that it wasn't true. But the awful reality was - it was.

"Ryan's still out?"

"Yeah. He hasn't so much as moved. You must've knocked him a good one." Tad crossed his legs and placed his chin on his closed fist. "Any chance this was all a big mistake?"

Aidan shook his head slowly. "I'm afraid not. There was no other known route out, and the second floor was demolished. There was nothing that could have survived up there."

"What about the wallet and the watch?"

"They were found on the first floor. Jonathan must've dropped them when he was downstairs talking to Ryan."

"There's no way?"

"No. You were there. If Jonathan was in there - and we know he was - he...he couldn't have..."

Ryan moaned and stirred, diverting the two men's attention. He rubbed at his jaw as his bleary eyes tried to focus. The brightness from the bedside lamp caused him to squint. Aidan leaned forward in the chair he was now sitting in, thankfully obstructing the light's path.

"How you doing, mate?"

Ryan thought it an odd question under the circumstances. He still wasn't completely cognizant until he caught the uneasiness in the shifting of Aidan's eyes. Ryan sat bolt upright, the past few hours flooding back unrelentingly. "Jonathan! Oh my God...where is my brother? What happened?"

Tad moved into view, sitting down on the edge of the bed. "Ryan..."

"Why are we sitting in this hotel room? Why aren't we still looking for Jonathan?" His heart failed to believe what his head already knew to be true.

The light flickered as Aidan changed positions. "Ryan. Mate..."

Ryan's head swayed from side to side. "No. No. No, don't say it, Aidan. I'm begging you. Don't say it."

"I'm so sorry, Ryan. Jonathan didn't make it."

His heart literally stopped beating for several long, drawn out seconds. He blew out a shaky breath trying to process the words that reverberated in his head. Ryan gulped and tried to swallow around the thickness in his throat. "Jonathan's...he's..."

Aidan sighed forlornly. He knew Ryan needed to hear the words so there was no doubt, but he was loathe to speak them. Saying them out loud would make it real, bring to it a finality he could not take back. He nearly choked on the words as they left his mouth. "I'm so sorry, Ryan. Jonathan's dead."

Ryan's face crumpled, the lower lip quivering in a fashion reminiscent of his brother. His head slowly lowered into his hands, the only other movement the slight hitching of his chest. After only a few moments he composed himself, the grief replaced with his usual stoicism. "I want to see Jonathan."

"I wish you could, mate, but you can't."

"What do you mean I can't?" Ryan's grief was replaced by indignation. "He's my brother. I have a right to see him. Take me to him."

Tad looked upwards as if searching for a miracle, but there were no miracles here. "There's um...there's nothing to see. I'm not sure how to say this, but the explosion..."

"So there's no body? Then how can you say he's dead?" Ryan was shouting now. "How can you sit there and tell me my brother is dead if no one can find his body? He could have easily gotten out."

"Ryan, the second floor was completely demolished. The windows were nailed shut. The fire escape was unusable, and he didn't come out the front door. There was no other way out. I wish it wasn't the case, but it is."

"So that's what we're basing it on? Jonathan's resourceful. He could've -"

"No, he couldn't." Aidan removed two items from a plastic bag and placed them in front of Ryan. He removed another item from a second bag that was recovered from the alleyway.

Ryan stared at all three, in stark contrast to the bedspread. He picked up the one closest to him. He traced the dial of Jonathan's watch with the tip of his finger. The metal was warped and bent out of shape. Ryan placed the watch down and lifted up the wallet, opening it carefully. He gently touched the singed license, letting his finger linger a moment on the photo on the driver's license. He took a deep breath before reaching for the third object. The pages were blackened and the acrid smell of smoke still lingered, but there was no mistaking Erin's diary. Jonathan would have not left it behind voluntarily. He had nearly fallen off a building to keep from losing the last tie to his sister.

The denial gave way to the shock of disbelief. "He's really gone." Ryan couldn't stop his voice from cracking anymore than he could prevent the hot tears that sprung to the corners of his eyes. A small spark of hope slipped through. "Are you - are they sure?"

"They're sure."

Ryan clasped the diary in both hands and bowed his head, ignoring the ashy smell that emanated from it. He whispered one word, repeating it over and over, it leaving his lips as reverently as a prayer. "Jonathan..."

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"Thank you, Julia. I really appreciate you taking Emma for a couple days." Annie gathered a few bags together and set them by the door. She glanced up the stairs making sure Emma was still out of earshot.

"I just wish I could do more. I still can't believe it."

"Neither can I." Annie struggled to keep here voice even. "I explained it to Emma, but I'm not really sure she entirely understands that he's never coming back."

"Kids can surprise you."

"Yeah. And listen, if she has any problems, please call me. I hate sending her off, but I know Ryan's not in good shape at all."

"Hey, it's no problem. I'm happy to do it. And Kathy will love it. If there's anything else I can do, don't hesitate to call."

"Thanks, Julia." Annie went upstairs to retrieve Emma leaving Julia to take in the Penthouse.

She wondered over to the bookcase, smiling at a picture of Emma and Kathy. The two girls had been inseparable from the moment they laid eyes on one another. The next picture captured a precious family moment, Emma's eyes shining with happiness from her position between Annie and Ryan. In the last picture Emma was simply beaming, clearly at ease in her Uncle Jon's arms. Julia felt a surprising tug at her heart strings. She never thought in a million years she'd develop a friendship with the man who had murdered her brother-in-law.

Years later, as he strove to right all the wrongs and put back together the pieces of his life, she couldn't help but respect and admire him. There was a mixture of pity and sadness for all he had been through, and of pride too on her part, that she may have helped in some small way as he struggled through the brain-damaged mire to rebuild his life.

"That was after our teddy bear picnic."

Julia gasped and nearly dropped the picture. She hadn't heard the pair descend the steps. Julia started to place the photograph in its home, but Emma reached for it.

"Can I take it with me, mommy?"

"Of course, sweetie."

Julia handed her the photograph and Emma hugged it to her. "Mommy says Uncle Jon went to Heaven."

Julia knelt down. "Yes, he did, Emma. I'm so sorry. I know you must miss him."

Emma studied the floor, having broached a subject she clearly wasn't comfortable with. "I wanna see Kathy now."

"Okay." Annie gave her a peck on the cheek and whispered reassuring words before Julia led her to the door. As they passed through the doorway, Emma turned to face her mother. "Does Daddy miss Uncle Jon, too?"

"Yes, sweetie." Annie could no longer keep the tears in check, turning slightly to hide them from Emma. "He misses him very much."

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Ryan hesitated outside the door to his Penthouse, stalling the inevitable onslaught of memories and questions he didn't have the answers to. He took a deep breath and ran his hand over the edge of the doorframe searching for the extra key, his copy lost amidst the chaos of the last forty-eight hours.

The door opened to his home, but it seemed foreign to him. His coat was where he had left it, the furniture hadn't been rearranged, not one thing was out of place, but yet there was one glaring difference. There was a void before him and within him, a gaping hole, that could never be filled again.

Annie rounded the corner, gazing at him with red-rimmed eyes. The edges around her were softened, lending to the surreal, dream-like state he was drifting in. He rubbed a hand along his unshaven jaw, the only concrete thing anchoring him to the present.

His wife crossed the room and embraced him. She held onto him silently. There were no words she could offer that would stem the hurt. They would only be empty platitudes.

"I, um...I told Aidan and Tad not to come up. I just needed some time." Ryan spoke first, answering the unasked question.

"Do you want me to leave you alone?"

"No. No, I just want to hold you right now." Annie nodded against his chest to indicate she wasn't going anywhere. "Does Emma know?"

Annie pulled back a bit. "Yeah. Yeah, I told her." It was her turn to answer an unspoken question. "Julia took her for a sleep over with Kathy. I figured it would do both of you some good."

"You're amazing, you know that?"

"So, are you, Ryan."

"I don't feel so amazing right now." Annie looked at him quizzically. He was in no mood to explain, but he attempted to anyway. "I failed Jonathan again. And this time he's dead because of it."

"Ryan, you are not responsible. How could you have possibly known that this is where everything would lead? You couldn't have prevented it."

"But that's the thing. I did see the signs. Jonathan was spiraling downwards for months. I thought...I don't know...for a while I thought he just needed to grieve for Erin. But then he nearly took a header off the Fusion rooftop." Annie looked mildly surprised at the revelation but didn't interrupt.

"The things he was saying...Then the nightmares started - or got worse. The disappearing acts...I should have done something."

"You are not to blame," Annie said emphatically.

"I know better than anyone that you can't out run your past. It catches up with you and you're powerless to stop it. I should have-"

This time Annie did cut him off. "Ryan, you did a lot for Jonathan. There was nothing that you did or didn't do that could have changed the course of things."

"It wasn't enough." Ryan bit his lip to repress the tears. "I did everything that I could think of, but I couldn't save him. I loved him so much, but it wasn't enough."

Annie didn't know how much more her heart could take. It broke for her husband that could not shake the guilt of a brother left behind to be tormented by their sadistic father, and for her brother-in-law that she cared for so dearly that had ultimately succumbed to the demons of the past. Both had suffered a lifetime of pain, peppered only by short intervals of happiness, ultimately ending in tragedy. She chose her next words carefully, hoping they could bring a little comfort, however naive that thought was. "Jonathan knew how much you loved him."

"That was the last thing I ever said to him, ya know. I begged him to come home with me. I told him I loved him."

"And he loved you too - so much. You have to hang on to that."

Ryan struggled to gain composure. "Those were his last words to me - 'I love you, Ryan'." Ryan replayed those words in his mind as he watched his brother's face being swallowed up by the shadows over and over again. The small, sad smile on Jonathan's lips wasn't enough to mask the pain that he always carried inside.

As the image faded with agonizing slowness from his mind, Ryan sat in his living room answering the memory. "I love you, too, Hockett." Now the tears really did come.

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Amanda stared into the solemn faces of all her housemates. It had been quite some time since they had all been gathered in one room. They were all there - save for one. The feeling of dread grew in the pit of her stomach as no one could look her in the eye.

She was about to make a flippant remark, but the words died on her lips as she caught sight of Julia's blood shot eyes. "You guys are starting to freak me out. What's going on?"

"Amanda..."

Di wordlessly led her over to the chair facing the fireplace. Robotically, she sat, still not comprehending the gravity of the situation. Amanda followed Jamie's gaze to the empty window seat, frequently occupied by Jonathan in past group get-togethers. Her heart thudded sickeningly in her chest. "Can someone please tell me what is going on?"

Di knelt down in front of her. "Amanda...sweetie...," she paused unsure of how to start. She decided to ease into it. "A few days ago Ryan noticed that Jonathan went missing. He didn't show up for work."

Amanda's mouth went dry and her breath caught in her throat. "Did - did he ever find him? Please tell me that Ryan found him."

Di nodded, but again she had trouble looking her in the eye. "Yes."

"What else aren't you saying? What else aren't you saying, Di," Amanda screamed.

"There was a fire...Jonathan didn't make it."

"What!?"

Seeing Di's uncertainty at how to proceed caused Julia to intervene. "There was an explosion. Jonathan was inside. There was no way out. I'm so sorry, Amanda."

"No, that can't be. If there was something like that we would have heard it on the news, or - or-"

"It didn't happen in Pine Valley. It was in Des Moines."

"Des Moines?" Her thoughts were moving in slow motion as if they were covered in a cerebral molasses. It took several moments for her to retrieve the information lodged in the recesses of her mind. "As in where they grew up?"

"The very place," Julia confirmed.

"Oh my God. Not like this, not like this. It's all my fault." Amanda's words ran together in an emotional torrent.

"Amanda, this is no one's fault. Not Jonathan's - and certainly not yours," Di attempted to soothe her.

"It was a terrible, tragic accident," Julia agreed.

The tears continued to collect in her eyes and stream down her cheeks as she shook off their words. "I forced him into something he wasn't ready for. And now he's dead because of it. If only I would have listened to him."

Jaime, who had been largely silent until now, came forward. "This is so not your fault. You could not have predicted any of this." He cupped her chin in his hand, forcing her to look at him. "You are not responsible."

"You don't understand. If I would've just married him like he wanted, he'd still be here. Instead of just accepting his past as a part of him, I insisted he try to find a way to move on. I wanted to start with a clean slate - for the baby." Her last statement elicited a new onslaught of tears as she rubbed the protruding bump of her stomach. "I pushed him into something he wasn't ready for and now - now..."

Julia sighed. "I don't think you pushed him into anything," she speculated. "I think this is something that has been a long time coming."

Amanda glared at her. "Are you saying that this was inevitable? That he somehow-"

Julia cut her off. "Not at all. What I meant was, I think Jonathan's been on a collision course with his past for a long time. He's done everything in his power to move on, but... The past is a part of you, and if you let it, it will define who you are. There's no escape."

"Except death," Amanda finished bitterly. "Why? Why did it have to end like this?" She dissolved into bereft tears mixed with anger. She cried for herself and for the baby, but mostly she cried for the man that never believed how important and needed - how loved - he was. The man that was deaf to all but the voices of the past, condemning him to a life of self-deprecation. And now, all chances for the happiness and the family he was destined for - and deserved - were lost.

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The dreaded day had finally arrived. Ryan had postponed it as long as possible, clinging to that last shred of hope that his brother would be found alive and all the preparations would be superfluous and unnecessary. He could put it off no longer. Two weeks later, at Annie's gentle urging, his brother was finally being laid to rest.

He arrived first, wanting to avoid all the pitying stares directed at him, the bereaved brother. Tender, green shoots carpeted the ground, hushing his footfalls as he stepped near the gravesite. A light, spring breeze caressed him. Despite the warmth of the sun, Ryan felt a coldness inside him like he'd never felt before.

The beauty of the day seemed obscene. Despite the crisp azure of the sky, this was about as far from a "blue sky day" as he could get. He longed for the sanctity of those days - good days spent with his brother. Some of the worst moments of his life involved Jonathan, and this one topped the list. But most of the best moments involved him also. The good and the bad were so intertwined that he couldn't imagine even taking a breath without his brother by his side. Reality had intervened, cruelly ripping them apart, leaving him with a loneliness that was unfathomable.

Ryan sat down in the first row, unable to take his eyes off the coffin that was more symbolic than anything. The spray of roses on top mocked him with the emptiness inside. There was nothing to bury.

The 'what-ifs' and 'could've-beens' assaulted his mind unrelentingly. They were fruitless, but washed over him in waves, nonetheless. An image of Jonathan flitted through his mind. He saw him standing at the now-vacant pulpit, at Erin's funeral, struggling valiantly to complete the eulogy, but failing. He saw himself passing the roses to Annie, rising from the seat he now sat in to embrace his brother and kissing him chastely on the neck when the emotions finally overtook him.

Ryan had told him it was all going to be okay, but nothing was okay. He had let him down again - and in the worst possible way. His eyes drifted over to the grave marker that bore his sister's name. It was only fitting that Jonathan be reunited with Erin. That was the one thing he had gotten right.

The sadness that emanated from Jonathan on that day of their sister's funeral was now understood by Ryan in a way he had never hoped to. He was being devoured from the inside out with his grief until there was nothing left but an empty shell. The world receded as he wallowed in it, ignoring the seats behind him that were now half-full with fellow mourners.

A hand fell lightly on his shoulder. He half-turned and caught sight of Erica.

"Oh, Ryan. Words cannot express to you how sorry we are." Ryan found it too difficult to respond so he merely nodded his acknowledgment.

"Ryan." Jack offered his hand which Ryan accepted. "I wish things had ended differently. I just..." Jack stumbled over his words, a rarity for a man who made a living persuading juries with his verbose diatribes.

Erica came to his rescue. "Lily sends her love. She wanted to be here, but it's really all just too much for her."

Ryan cleared his throat. "I understand. Thank you." He turned his attention to a group of Jonathan's roommates that were now arriving. He accepted the well-meaning condolences numbly, interested only in the appearance of Amanda.

She stood between Di and Julia, more leaning on them than anything. Ryan tried to catch her eye, but she was led into a row before he could manage to do so. Instead, he caught sight of Kendall's tear-streaked face. She gave him a wan smile that he didn't return. As he heard the music swell, he sighed wearily, steeling himself for the rest of it.

Annie sat down next to him with Emma in her lap. The sparkle that normally inhabited her eyes was dimmed by the darkness of the day. Ryan had argued vehemently against her presence wanting to spare her innocence from death, but Annie had persisted. And when Emma had nearly demanded that she get to say goodbye to her Uncle Jon, Ryan had relented, not possessing the energy to fight anyway.

The sickening feeling in his stomach grew with each person that rose to give their speech. He suffered through all the well-meaning sentiments, longing for it to be over. His mask of stoicism was showing the cracks.

Blessedly a line formed to walk past the casket, paying their last respects. Ryan hung back, allowing everyone else their privacy which would assure his own. Annie knew that intuitively and lifted Emma close to her as she went past. As Amanda walked past, Ryan reached out and grabbed her wrist. "Amanda..."

"Ryan, why?" Her tears had not stopped since she had heard the news. And Ryan knew that whatever he said would have a similar effect. He didn't have the answer to that question anyway. So he merely shook his head.

Finally, he was alone at the gravesite. He let a few of the tears he had been holding in slip out. His facade crumbled as he stood and inched closer to the casket, kneeling down beside it. The cloying smell of the roses was obtrusive, but he laid an arm across the top anyway fingering the soft petals.

He sat without speaking, gathering his thoughts. Finally, he broke the silence. "I miss you so much - more than I've ever missed anybody. I never thought I'd have to lose you all over again. I thought...I dunno...I thought we'd run my company together, retire together, and be crotchety old men together." He tried a wry smile, but it felt wrong.

Ryan buried his head in the sleeve of his outstretched arm. "You've been through so much, but you fought your way back time and time again. Why couldn't you fight this time?

"It's not your fault. It's my fault. It's all my fault. I should have fought harder for you. I saw you being torn apart, little by little and I should have done more - done something. Whatever it was, it wasn't enough.

"If I could, I'd switch places with you in a heartbeat. It should have been me. It's not fair. I know you were scared, but you never had the chance to find out what a great father you'd be - and you woulda been. I have no doubt. More than any of us, you deserved the happy family you never had."

"You have - had - such a big heart. I watched it being torn to pieces bit by bit, day after day, and yet I did nothing." Ryan's voice wavered, tightening with overwhelming emotion. "I failed you again. I couldn't save you. I just - I hope that you've finally found the peace in death that you never found in your life. I love you, Hockett."

Ryan kissed his hand and placed it lovingly on the casket. Rationally he knew it was time to leave, but he laid his head down on top of his arm, refusing for the moment to leave his brother alone as he had done so many years previously.

Annie looked on, her arms achingly empty from Emma's weight. She wondered how Ryan would make it through this. She was a smart enough woman to realize that her help wouldn't be enough this time. It would take a lot more than her love and the passing of time to ease Ryan's pain.

She didn't believe in guardian angels until she had been sent Erin to keep her and her daughter safe. And then came the answer to her prayers in the form of Jonathan who not only hid her and Emma to keep them together, but had ensured their safety from then on with an action that would cost him emotionally and psychologically through his last days. She owed him more than she could ever repay, but she called on his help one more time - not for her sake, but for his older brother's.

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Just over two months had passed - two long, virtually sleepless months. When sleep did come, it was plagued with dreams. Dreams that were infused with images of Jonathan. They were a mixture of memories and conversations melded together with a future never to be. The dreams were fleeting and Ryan clung to sleep with a ferocity, unwilling to reenter a world that his brother no longer inhabited.

When he was forced to come back to reality, he was on autopilot, carrying out the bare minimum of interactions, preferring to withdraw into himself. His company had suffered, no one left at the helm to manage it. Ryan was beyond caring. He had only built it as a vehicle to allow him to work alongside his brother, nearly begging Jonathan in the beginning to join him. When he finally did, the company soared and he took pride in ownership and in watching Jonathan find an outlet for his brilliant mind. Now...now the whole thing could implode for all it was worth. The whole reason for it was gone.

His marriage was suffering, too. Annie was an endless well of patience, giving him as much space as he needed, but even she was growing frustrated with the wall he built around himself, shutting out herself and the daughter they shared. The only person he said more than two words to was Amanda. They had something terrible in common, both losing someone they loved more than their own life. Plus, he felt it his brotherly duty to see that his niece or nephew and the mother were taken care of in a manner that Jonathan would have had he been here.

That was a painful subject to dwell on. Jonathan would not be here to see his son or daughter. He would never get to experience holding them and inhaling that sweet baby smell. He would never get to let go of the fear and realize he was not doomed to repeat history.

Ryan sunk down further into the chair, sipping on his drink, trying to put all those thoughts out of his mind. He closed the photo album that had sat open on his lap, and put it to the side as the clock chimed two-thirty in the morning. There was a lot of night before him. He drained the drink in another long swallow, trying to induce another fitful slumber. Eventually sleep did come, and with it, another dream.

Ryan opened his eyes. The living room was still dark, the small fire providing the only illumination. The drink - several, actually - hadn't worked for long. He worked the stiffness out of his neck with a weary sigh.

Footfalls fell lightly on the hardwood floor. Ryan rose, prepared to put Emma back to bed. She had got in the habit of getting up in the night again just like her daddy. But the footfalls weren't coming from behind, but echoing all around him.

The click of the door cut through the silence, a small clattering following as keys were flung onto the table next to the door in the alcove. An eery calm washed over the room. Ryan stood, hesitant, afraid to find the source of the noises.

His fear heightened as a figure emerged from the shadows. His relief was palpable as the firelight fell on the face of his brother, giving him a spectral-like appearance. "Jonathan... you're back."

"Did I leave," came the enigmatic reply.

Ryan didn't know how to answer that. Instead he moved in for a hug. "I'm so glad you're back, man. I missed you."

"What are you doing?"

Ryan stopped in his tracks, frozen by his brother's angry tone. "What do you mean, 'what am I doing'? It's not like I haven't given you a million hugs before. Relax, Hockett."

"Not that." Jonathan rolled his eyes. "I mean that," he said pointing to the nearly empty bottle of alcohol, "and that." Suddenly Ryan was staring at his wife, hugging a pillow in her sleep, his side of the bed unslept in yet again. Emma lay sprawled across the bottom, dried tear tracks on her tiny face.

He had no memory of going up the stairs. It was almost if he had been... transported. His brother's voice sliced through the confusion. "You've left them. You've left them for memories and a ghost. Why would you do that? That's not the Ryan I know."

Jonathan had shown him in one glaringly clear gesture that his self-imposed isolation had left his wife and daughter feeling lonely and abandoned. But he could do very little to change it. "The Ryan you know is dead and gone. He went away the very second you did."

"Who says I'm gone? I'm right here, aren't I?"

"This is a dream. I'll wake up and then you'll be gone again. There's nothing I can do to change that." Ryan shrugged resignedly. "And then I'll wake up and start missing you all over again."

Jonathan's eyes bore into him. "Ryyyan," he drew out his name as he sometimes did when he was making a serious point, "how can you miss someone that's never left?"

Now it was Ryan's turn to show his irritation. "What are you talking about? You're dead, Jon. This is a dream and you're dead. We buried you."

The corners of his younger brother's mouth turned up slightly. "Did you? Did you really?"

"Don't play coy with me little brother. I was there for every agonizing second."

"You can't read me as well as you think you can," Jonathan corrected. "You assume I'm being coy, but maybe I'm just trying to get you to see what you aren't able to through your pain. Did you really bury me or did the past already do the job? The question is, was I able to fight my way back through the ruins of our childhood."

Jonathan began to turn, one hand reaching towards the door. Ryan tried to delay the inevitable. "Don't go, Hockett. Not yet," he quietly begged.

Jonathan shook his head sadly. "I have to. None of this is real - not really. You know that. Think about it."

"Don't go. You can't leave it like this. Please, Hockett...," he called after Jonathan's retreating form. "I don't understand." But Jonathan was already gone - again.

Ryan jerked himself awake, disturbed by the content of his dream. His skin was slick with the sick, cold perspiration usually left over from a nightmare. But this was no nightmare, nor was it the normal poignant, yet bittersweet dream of Jonathan that he'd been experiencing night after night after night.

He tried to work out the meaning as he peeled himself off the chair. Reaching for the glass, his hand stopped short as he remembered Jonathan's admonishment. He glanced upwards, guiltily acknowledging to himself that he had spent every night down here since the funeral as his dream-brother had not so subtly pointed out.

However, it was the last half of the conversation that sent his mind into a dizzying tailspin. Was Jonathan trying to tell him they hadn't buried him? That much he knew. There was no body to recover. But was did the comment about being buried under the ruins of their childhood mean? And fighting his way back?

"What were you trying to tell me, Hockett," Ryan whispered to the empty room.

Ryan tried to unknot the tangled mess of thoughts in his head, but they kept circling around, coming back to the same phrase - "ruins of our childhood." It echoed in his mind like a reverberating hammer. And then it hit him with sudden clarity. Ryan needed to revisit their old home, or what was left of it. That's where he would find Jonathan. The only question was would he really be dead, or would Ryan find him still alive. He didn't dare let his heart hope. Either way, he was bringing his brother home.