Ford was fairly certain he broke all the laws of traffic in his haste to get to the lake and he didn't really care. He would have broken a few laws of physics if it had gotten him there quicker. The Multibear had managed to squeeze into the Diablo, Ford didn't know how and he wasn't going to question it.

He drifted to a halt in front of the lake, spraying gravel everywhere and nearly taking out a small tree.

He turned off the vehicle and charged full speed to the shed, stopping outside the door and drawing his ray gun. The shack was a shaky looking structure with its door loosely secured by a small chain. The rusted padlock was open and still had a key in it. He kicked the door open and it slammed hard into the wall behind it. Ford charged in and scanned the room, ray gun level. Nothing. It was empty except for a chair and thick coil of rope.

The Multibear stuck his head in the door and recoiled with a snarl.

"There has been a lot of blood in there."

A jolt of fear went through Ford.

"Stan's?" He whispered, breathlessly.

"Yes, but also some others."

Ford gave a shutter as the implications sunk in, only now noticing the rust colored stains on the chair and floor.

"He went this way," The bear said interrupting Ford's thoughts.

He spun and started following, glad to leave the dirty shed behind. The bear loped along a disturbed path of gravel toward the lake. Right before the lake the path ended and was replaced with tire tracks that led…

Straight into the lake!

"Does his scent go in there?"

Ford didn't get an answer. He didn't need one.

The Multibear charged into the lake with a giant splash. Ford chucked off his trench coat and dove in after him.

About ten to twenty feet from shore they found a car on the lake bottom surrounded by milfoil. Ford darted up for a quick breath of air and then dived back down.

He swam around the car shining a small penlight inside, but couldn't make out anyone through the windows. The trunk maybe. He shot up for another breath, dived down and then tried to open it, but it wouldn't budge. The next time he went up for air, Multibear was waiting for him.

"We need to pull it out."

Ford nodded, "but how? We won't get enough leverage underwater…"

Then he remembered.

"The rope!"

Ford swam back to shore as fast as he could and retrieved the rope from the shed. He dove back in and tied it to the bumper. Hopefully it would hold. He and Multibear returned to shore, grabbed the end and started pulling.

At first nothing happened. The car was held in place by thick mud. Then, slowly but surely, it began to move. Once the trunk was fully surfaced Ford dropped the rope and ran towards the vehicle, Multibear lumbering close behind.

As he examined the trunk he realized, with a snarl, that it was welded shut.

"Here let me do it," Multibear said, gently moving him to the side with a large paw.

He hooked two sets of claws on the top edge and two on the bottom. With a mighty growl and a violent shriek of metal, he ripped the trunk open.

Ford ignored the ringing in his ears and pushed forward to get a look.

His brother curled into a tight ball in in about 6 inches of water the center of the trunk. His hands and legs were bound tightly and there was a bloody gag in his mouth. Before Ford could reach for him the Multibear gently lifted Stan out of the trunk, carefully supporting his back and neck. He lumbered back to shore and sat down in the sand.

Ford pulled a knife out of his boot and got to work on the ropes as he examined Stan. His brother was in bad shape, Dark black bruises and cuts littered his body, his nose was twisted to the side, his glasses where cracked and his lips had taken on a blue tone. If it weren't for the fact Ford could see his chest rising and falling unsteadily, he would have thought he was dead.

As Ford removed the last ropes, Stan's eyes weakly fluttered open. One pupil was blown wide and the other was contracted. Concussion.

His eyes jerked around a little before focusing haphazardly on Stanford's face. He squinted.

"Sixer?"

His voice was weak, pained, and uncertain, but there was a hint of hope in it. A lump formed in Ford's throat. Had Stan been waiting for him? He reached out with a shaking hand and gently stroked Stan's hair. He would have liked to hug him, but he was afraid of making his injuries worse.

"Yes. It's me. You're safe now. We've got you," he murmured soothingly, continuing to run his fingers through Stan's hair.

He gently rested his other hand on his brother's. Stan's lips twitched slightly in what could have been a smile and he mumbled, "Knew ya'd come."

His eyes fluttered back shut and he did not respond when Ford tried to rouse him again.

"We need to get him to a hospital now," Ford said cursing under his breath. If he went into a coma…

Ford paced back and forth outside the hospital waiting room. He had wanted to stay with Stan when the emergency crew took care of him, but they had calmly explained that he would get in the way. One of the nurses pointed out that he was wearing clothes that were dripping lake water and had who knows what kind of bacteria in them.

They had asked him to go back home and change, he had refused and now he was wearing some clothes from the hospitals clothing drive as his own got washed.

He wondered when Multibear would arrive. He had to leave him at the lake because there wasn't room in the car, so the bear was returning on foot.

"Stanford Pines?"

A nurse had come out of the room and was signaling for him to come in.

Ford followed her anxiously. Stanley lay on the bed pale and covered in bandages. There was a thick blanket over him and a machine monitoring his vitals.

"How is he?" Ford asked shoving his hands into his pockets.

"He should recover, but it is going to take a lot of time. He appears to have been heavily beaten. Aside from the bruises and cuts, he has three fractured ribs, a broken nose, his right arm is completely broken, and he's sustained some heavy head trauma. On top of all this he has hypothermia."

The nurse paused and regarded him for a second through sympathetic hazel eyes.

"I don't know what exactly happened, but it is highly likely he will have some psychological trauma from this, he's going to need a lot of support when he goes home. I advise that you don't leave him alone for long periods of time."

Ford nodded, mutely watching his brother.

A cold rush of anger ran through him setting his hair and teeth on edge. He clenched his fists, digging his nails into his palms. Jorge was going to suffer for this.