The penultimate chapter. Enjoy it while you can, chums. Thank you for all the lovely feedback. Very VERY much appreciated.


CHAPTER 40

Laura froze in the doorway of Frank's hospital room at the sight of Frank trussed up…it seemed to her…to every machine available to the medical team. "My little boy," she whispered. Although Fenton had warned her of what she would find, it didn't prepare her fully for the beeps, whirrs and wheezes of the various machines. Worse of all - the livid rope marks around his neck, a vivid illustration of just how close he'd flown into the jaws of death.

Fenton attempted to reassure her. "Don't worry about the burn marks. There's no damage to his spinal cord. If the Red-Headed Man had dropped him it would've injured the vertebrae or even paralysed him…or worse. Lifting didn't have the same effect. The Red-Headed Man's fixation turned out to be Frank's saving grace."

"I fail to see the positives! I wish he'd not hanged him at all." Laura slid her hand free of her husband and walked the few steps to Frank's bed. She bent to look closely at and smoothed his hair down. Laura barely noticed Nancy's presence, her eyes for Frank alone.

Nancy stayed silent and stepped away to make room.

"Look at you, by brave son," Laura said. "Look what he's done to you." She cupped his cheek and stroked it with her thumb. "I'm sorry he hurt you, I'm sorry I haven't been here."

Frank's arm shot out, reached for something, then slammed down with a clang onto the metal hand rail and gripped hard, knuckles white with tension, tendons taut. Laura and Nancy shrieked and Fenton reached back for the door handle. His fight or flight instincts kicked in - not to run away, but to run toward help. Frank's sudden movement frightened the life out of them all. Fenton's brain finally got up to speed and he ran to Laura.

Frank began to shake the bed and to make stressful breath sounds as he fought the ventilator, his good arm at full strength.

Fenton pulled Laura away and muttered words of encouragement to his distressed wife.

Nancy hit the emergency button, then captured Frank's wrist as his hand redirected to the breathing tube to try and remove what his befuddled brain thought to be an obstruction. "Frank, I'm here, try to relax, help's coming," she said reassuringly, but he either didn't hear or couldn't understand. She wasn't going to be able to stop him, his strength too great. It would be only a matter of time before he attacked the tube and possibly hurt himself. "Fenton, help me!"

Fenton tried, but even between them they found it a fight. "They should have strapped his arm down; they must have known this would likely happen."

"You kidding me? He'd have gone crazy if he'd woken up tied down again and not able to breathe!"

Frank's hand found Nancy's. He gripped firmly and his writhing stopped. His eyes opened to pin her with a pleading look, so she spoke to him. "It's okay, relax, try not to fight the ventilator, it won't let you suffocate. Helps coming. Welcome back, handsome."

Frank briefly touched the side of her face where the large bruise had now reduced to a sickening yellow hue, and then he ran his index finger over her eyelid.

"Yes, my eye's back to its usual color." Nancy said and smiled. "No permanent damage. The Red-Headed Man wasn't as bad-ass as he thought."

Frank switched his hand to hold his dad's. His eyes widened, he needed an answer to something.

"We're all okay." Fenton assured him, hoped he'd answered correctly. "Joe's fine if that's what you're worried about. The Red-Headed Man didn't kill him, didn't get the chance. Con didn't let him. The guy's dead."

Frank squeezed his hand in response. Then his eyes moved and he saw Laura. His face softened and he reached to touch her hair.

Laura smiled, kissed his hand and pulled it to her cheek.

The medical personnel finally piled into the room and took over. Fenton, Nancy and Laura were ejected from the room and they finally began to separate Frank from the machine.

-o0o-

SOME DAYS LATER

"You ready?" Fenton asked his son sat on the bed. He picked up Frank's bag and hoisted it onto his shoulder.

"I guess so, gonna have to leave at some point," Frank said.

A clang reverberated through from outside the hospital room as something collided against the door. Angry mutters followed, as well as out of control female giggles. Fenton grinned. "Joe strikes again." He made his face serious and moved to open the door.

Indeed, Fenton found Joe on the other side next to a wheelchair, his hair standing on end. "Oops." Joe attempted to smooth his wavy hair down.

"You're not pushing me," Frank said. "I'll end up back in here. Dad can do it. You carry the bag."

"An accident!" Joe protested.

James appeared in view, shooting by the doorway on his own charger, his heavily plastered leg out in front as he performed an expert wheelie. He turned on a dime without dropping the front wheels and sailed by the other way.

Fenton watched James and shifted his gaze to Nancy and Vanessa who were still shrieking with laugher at Joe and clutching each other. He narrowed his eyes. "Were you popping wheelies?"

"Erm."

"Not so Spider-man now, eh?" He tossed Joe the bag, snatched the handles of the wheel chair and pulled it into the room. "All aboard," he said to Frank and put the brake on.

Frank glared at it. "It's dumb how they make you ride a wheelchair out, and then watch you in the lot, dodging traffic so as not to get run down."

Joe moved to the bed and put his hand to Frank's elbow.

Frank slapped him away. "Get off. I'm not an invalid!" He slid off the bed and slumped down into the chair. "If I don't see another hospital bed it'll be too soon." He pointed into the distance. "Onward trajectory, Daddio!"

Frank's recovery proved to be a tough personal fight, a fight showing no signs of slowing. He'd been reliant on the ventilator for three days, the machine providing life sustaining oxygen to compensate for his struggling and heavily bruised left lung. His crushed ribs had compromised his chest cavity and prevented the organ from operating effectively. The punches and kicks caused a massive pulmonary contusion. His medical team judged it necessary to keep him in a chemically induced coma to allow time for his damaged lung to heal and begin to fully function.

After the three days, his medical team had made the decision to begin a gradual reduction of the chemicals used to keep him in his comatosed state. It took only a little over twenty-four hours to wean him off the ventilator, a testament to Frank's level of fitness that he woke so quickly, especially as his doctor had warned them all it would take up to seventy two hours.

A heavily bandaged left arm and drainage tubes provided a stark illustration of the operation which had lasted many hours. The tubes weren't removed until the previous day, and only then had he finally been signed off, and told he could go home. A successful operation, but one which would require physiotherapy. The ruined muscle needed rebuilding.

None of it frightened Frank, he thrived on hard work.

Not that he particularly felt bouncy right now, more bruised and physically slow. Mentally he hadn't felt so well in a long time though. Doctor Cox had only visited him once professionally, and had gone away happy. His darkness was still lurking somewhere deep within, he could sense and feel it, but it was much further down and nestled in the remotest corner of his mind.

-o0o-

Soon after Frank returned home - not to his apartment, but to his parent's house so Laura could nurse him - he decided to throw a party to thank everyone for what they'd done. He felt it was the least he could do after the way everyone pulled together to support them. It was a small soiree, but heavy on the entertainment side. He rented several rooms at a hotel in the center of Bayport, one that had pool tables, and sourced a fun casino, a DJ and a caterer with a free bar.

Frank walked by one of the tables and saw Ben Wright racking balls onto the green felt top while Joe stood to one side chalking a cue. "Ben, I wouldn't play Joe, he's an ungracious winner."

Joe lifted one side of his mouth. "Always plenty to celebrate when I play you…if how you play can be described as 'playing'."

"Damn!" Ben snorted. He and his off-duty pals looked from Joe to Frank and waited for Frank's reaction.

Frank shrugged his right shoulder. "Joe's not lying, he plays pool better than me. Mind you, it's one of the few things he is better than me at, like map reading and pulling weights. Three important things. Yep, he's the lynch pin of our detective agency."

"Hey!"

"You started it."

"You said I'm an ungracious winner!"

"You are. I wasn't lying." Frank laughed at Joe's miffed expression. "Give it up, Bro."

Ben took the chalk from Joe's fingers. "You're like a couple of kids." He rubbed the blue chalk on the cue tip aggressively. "Don't worry about me, Frank, I think I can give Joe a game. Play the winner?" he invited.

Frank pointed at his left arm, strapped closely to his body. "Forgetting something? There's not many one armed pool players on the circuit."

"Ah."

Joe laughed loudly. "Well observed Ben. I thought this would be a fair fight, but if you can't even spot that—"

"See Ben? Joe doesn't know the definition of graciousness and he hasn't even won yet." He winked at Joe. "Have you seen Nan?"

"Dancing with Van? They went in that direction, anyway."

Frank turned to Ben. "Dancing…something else I'm better than Joe at." He walked away and just avoided being swiped by the cue Joe wielded with intent like some sort of medieval weapon.

"Sword fighting, Dude. I'm better than you at sword fighting!" Joe yelled at his brother's retreating back.

Frank headed for the room pulsating with lights and music to see if he could find Nancy but she got to him first, intercepting him just outside the door and slipping her arm about his middle. He turned and captured her with his good arm and pulled her in for an extended kiss. "Your look beautiful."

"You don't look so tragic yourself." She smiled. "Ezra told me they arrested Albert Keane. They caught him in New York trying to exchange the diamond bracelet with a fake at the auction. They raided his Bayport residence and found jewellery making equipment. They tracked him down to New York and found the same there."

"Great Nan, well done!" Frank hugged her. "Remember to get your money from the auction house, it's the least you're owed."

They were interrupted by loud groans from the pool room, followed by heckling male voices. Joe quickly came through the door, miffed to the max.

"What happened to you?" Nancy asked.

"I lost. Badly," Joe admitted. "I blame this!" He pointed at the gradually healing scar. "It affected my game."

"Bro, it's above your eye, not on it."

"Whatever. It's gonna improve my game with the ladies though. Way sexy scar! Where'd Van go?" Joe asked Nancy.

"In the bar with The Chief getting her sexy on."

"Nan! Getting sexy with Ezra? Where's your head at? I'll rescue her."

"She doesn't need rescuing, they're fine."

They walked to the quieter bar room at the far end. Sure enough, Vanessa stood with Chief of Police Ezra Collig. He leaned on the bar and their heads were close as they talked quietly. One of her hands rested in one of his, and her other lay on his upper arm. Finding The Chief out of uniform felt weird, unnatural even. Frank couldn't remember Ezra ever dressed in anything other than blue. Collig saw them and waved them over.

"I just told Vanessa the intel she collected with her online friends resulted in us picking up a whole gaggle of perps connected to Pandora. Some of those were the escaped gunmen."

Frank turned impressed eyes on Vanessa. "You did a bang-up job."

"You did you know," Joe agreed and draped his arm about her shoulders.

"So people keep on telling me. I think I might believe it myself, although I had Mark's help remember."

"Van, you did the hard work, take the credit!"

Vanessa went pink.

"Credit where credit's due," Collig said and gently squeezed her hand. "We'll probably never know which of them actually gunned Anderson and Frank down, but we can still charge them with attempted homicide.

"Sir, I've got a theory on who might have shot James," Joe said.

"I can work with a theory. Hit me with it."

"The guy James disarmed when we first got into the building? James threatened to kneecap him if he tried anything like that again. Too convenient James got nailed in the leg just after the dude got ejected from the building."

Collig nodded sagely. "I know the man. I'll have him questioned further, apply some pressure. Good thinking."

Con appeared and pulled Vanessa away a few feet to whisper into her ear. She nodded and smiled.

"They're cute together," Collig muttered as Joe took Vanessa's place at the bar. "I like Vanessa, she a nice young lady. Clever."

"Back off, she's mine. Find your own," Joe said.

Con and Vanessa started to walk off toward James and Andrea, arm-in-arm. As she passed Frank, she twirled her pinky finger into his and pulled his arm along for a little way before letting go. They grinned at each other. It wasn't a surreptitious, romantic gesture, it was done completely openly and born from their shared experience of almost being murdered at the strangling hands of the Red-Headed Man. It had strengthened their bond.

Ezra pulled Frank's attention fully back. "How's the arm, Kid?"

"Oh, you know, crap, but I'm alive and not half insane so I can live with it. Once James and I are free of bandages and plaster we're leaving for Seattle to attend the same facility I attended for my knee. Get us fighting fit." Frank's face opened up, "Oh, while I'm thinking about it—" he pulled an envelope from his inside pocket. "Can you give this to Bach?"

"What is it?"

"A voucher for his family, a vacation - Disneyworld. He can cash it in whenever he likes, when he's up to speed. Spending money's included. He shouldn't need to put his hand in his pocket." Frank handed it to Ezra who took it. "How's he doing by the way?"

Collig answered, "Better. We think they'll sign him out the hospital soon. Healing well, should make a full recovery. Whether he'll want to come back to us is another matter. It's hit him badly." He fanned the envelope. "Generous of you," he said sincerely and slipped it into his shirt pocket.

"If he needs anything else, let me know. Therapy might help, I can recommend someone. I feel real bad about it."

"Son, you weren't responsible. You were as much a victim. It pursued you, not the other way around." Ezra raised his hand, readying himself to slap Frank in the arm.

Frank stepped frantically backward to get out of range of the incoming assault, but trod on Nancy's toe and lost his footing.

"Ouch!" she squealed and started hopping.

"Chief!" Joe shouted. His hand shot out to support and steady his brother. "I don't think you know how painful your friendly pats are."

Collig froze. "They aren't …are they?"

"Yes!" the brothers chorused.

"I don't believe you." Officer Marty Wong walked by so Collig decided to use him to prove his point. "Wong, have I ever smacked you too hard in the shoulder?"

"Tons of times, Chief," Marty said without breaking stride. "It's the silent killer."

Joe looked at Collig pointedly. "You're a man mountain, you don't realize your own strength. Stop doing it, it bruises." Joe turned to the bar to order a drink. "Dude, try rubbin' or tappin' not slammin'."

"Why hasn't anyone told me?" Collig wondered, suitably chastened. "Apologies Frank, Nancy."

"Whoa," Nancy muttered, rubbing her foot. "I'm going to sit down."

Frank went with her, guided her through the crowd toward where his parents were sitting. "I'm real sorry."

"Frank, will you stop apologising? You're spending half your life sorry for something. Ezra caused that, not you." She grabbed his jacket lapels and pulled him down so she could talk quietly. "But while we're on the subject of you worrying about nothing. Don't think I don't catch you looking at me with that face sometimes."

"It's the only one I've got."

"Well, I'm telling you again and listen good this time…the Red-Headed Man didn't do that to me. He roughed me up, yes. He scared the life out of me, hell yeah. But he didn't…do…that…OKAY?" She kissed him firmly on the lips, then pulled back and looked him solidly in the eyes.

He smiled down at her.

"And besides." She gave a cheeky eyebrow wiggle. "Does it seem, from our recent conduct, anything like that happened?"

Frank grinned wider and pulled her tightly to him. "Nah. If anything, massively the opposite." He loved this girl in her blue lacy dress, blue high heels and just a hint of makeup. "You're gorgeous, ever been told that?"

"I think you might've mentioned it a couple of times." She nuzzled the crook of his chin and peppered it with tiny kisses.

It tickled and made him chortle.

"I like how your throat vibrates," She muttered and carried on her assault.

"You know we've a room upstairs…let's slip away."

She stopped her burrowing. "As tempting as that is, you're the host remember."

Frank sighed.

She let him go and dropped into the seat next to Laura. She took her shoe off to inspect the damage to her foot.

Laura looked down curiously as Nancy rubbed her toe. "What happened? Dancing with Joe?"

"Ezra Collig happened."

"Honey, he didn't smack you in the shoulder did he?" Fenton asked.

"He tried to do it to Frank. Frank dodged and trod on me. Joe told him off."

"Why? It wasn't Frank's fault."

"Not Frank, ya ninny-hammer, The Chief!"

Fenton laughed, delighted and surprised. "Did he? Good boy." He turned and half stood to look for someone. "Where's Con, he's gotta hear this—" He spotted him on the other side of the room. "Hey, Con…CON!" he yelled and raised a hand.

Con didn't hear; he'd knelt down on one knee, and a hand scrambled in his pocket.

"What's he doing? Did he drop something?" Realisation dawned and Fenton's eyes widened. He dropped his palm down along with his jaw.