Frank woke up to the dull pain in his neck. He tried to raise a hand to rub the soreness away, but found it holding onto something. Eyes still shut, he tilted his head only to feel the pain get worse. Finally he blinked his eyelids half-open and frowned at the picture in front of him: two clasped hands with a plastic tube above them. Strange.
It took him a few moments to notice the soft and warm feeling under his cheek and then it hit. Joe. Frank raised his head from his brother's abdomen and rubbed his aching neck with a free hand for the other one was circled around Joe's motionless palm. For a few moments, Frank watched his respiratored breathing, still afraid to believe this was not a dream.
Even if it was, it was not a good one. Half a year gone, the woman was on the loose and without Joe awake they couldn't find her. But Joe was asleep for months with little chances of waking up. The circle closed up.
Still, Frank smiled at the peaceful face of his brother and patted his hand. "Morning, kiddo," he said quietly with a yawn and glanced at his watch. "Ready to face Mom and Dad soon?"
In the middle of the night, he had left the room for ten minutes to make a phone call to his father. Probably, "hi Dad, it's Frank, I'm calling from Cleveland hospital" wasn't the best way to start the conversation, after all.
"Hospital? What happened?"
"No, I'm fine, really-"
"And what are you doing in Cleveland? Aren't you in London?"
"I'm fine and I'm not in London. I found him, Dad," Frank said.
There was a pause. "Found who?"
"Joe. He's here, in Cleveland," when Fenton said nothing to that, Frank added, "I'm serious, Dad. I found him. He's in a coma, has been for half a year."
"Frank, tell me this is not a joke or mistake, because this has been too much."
"This is not a joke or mistake. When you come, I'll explain everything, okay?"
"I-I'm coming. But wait- how?"
"I'll explain," Frank repeated.
He was so not looking forward to giving the explanation. On his way back to Joe's room Frank saw Dr. Stanley filling out papers at the reception and exchanged waned smiles with him.
"Sometimes I envy my comatose patients, they can sleep off like nobody's business," the doctor rubbed his neck tiredly.
"The feeling passes when you think you may never wake up, I guess?" Frank asked.
"There comes a day for all of us when we don't wake up, Frank. But hopefully it's when we're old and not as young as your brother."
"He's always been a sleepyhead, but half a year's his personal record," Frank replied with a sigh. "I thought he would- thought there would be some kind of an indication he knows I'm here. I know it's crazy to think so, but I really thought he would react somehow."
"Give it time. It's not what they show in the movies, when someone suddenly opens his eyes and basically starts to move like after a good night's sleep. If it's going to happen, it'll be real slow."
"If…" Frank noted him saying.
"I don't want to be cruel, Frank, but it's an 'if'. I really want to say 'when' and tell you he'll be fine and there'll be no complications. But technically, his level of coma indicates significant brain damage- it cannot control the body and perform the simplest functions, like breathing. I have to be honest with you that even if he wakes up, no one can predict what he will be like," Dr. Stanley said with sympathy. "But there're always chances for recovery. Always. But you'll need to have patience."
When Frank returned to be by Joe's side, he gave a prayer to every god in heaven to just bring his brother back, whatever he will be like. He took Joe's hand back in his and looked at the beeping and blinking devices. The machines, which monitored Joe's life signals, gave no indication he was aware of the visitor. It made Frank feel betrayed, but could he blame Joe for being non-responsive? After all, it was him who ran away across the ocean, leaving his brother totally alone in his fight for life.
"I won't mind if you wake up just to tell me you hate me for failing you like that," Frank said. "For stopping to look for you. For leaving you alone through this. Wake up and I'll listen to everything rude you have to say about me, I promise…. Wake up, Joe. Even if you'll hate me…. Wake up."
He talked for what seemed like hours. He recalled the whole accident case. He told him why he had moved away to London. He told a few stories from his English life, about the University, the accents, the sandwiches, the mind the gaps, the getting used to it all. But none of this seemed to be of interest to Joe. Frank looked helplessly at him, not knowing what else to say to get a reaction.
"Remember a year and something ago?" he asked. "When I was in ICU after that bank robberies case? When I woke up and there you were, looking like shit –hair a mess, eyes bloodshot, face unshaven? Remember?
"You said then, that if I died you'd never go back to normal life. And I said you were stupid to think so and that if I did die and there was afterlife so I could still watch you, I'd want to see you move on and to see you happy – have a nice job, a lovely house, a beautiful wife and wonderful kids. It would flatter me to know you'd remember your big brother from time to time, but I'd want you to have a great life. Remember?
"And then you looked at me and asked me to promise that it would be exactly what I'd do if you died. Remember? I hated you then, the way you played it out to your advantage. But I promised- because I never thought I'd have to keep the promise. And soon you died – or so we thought…. I-I swear I tried to keep my promise, kiddo…." Frank whispered. "But it just- it's just it's hard to have a great life without you around…. I love you so much. Please, wake up."
It was around nine in the morning when there was a soft knock on the door and a nurse walked in to make the regular check on the patient. Frank reluctantly walked outside and suddenly his body reminded him of its own needs, as his stomach both threatened to explode and demanded for some food.
He was pouring a cup of tea from a coffee-machine when a female voice called his name. He turned around to see his tearful mother run to him, followed by his father. Laura wordlessly wrapped her arms around her elder son. Frank patted her shoulder while giving a brief explanation on Joe's condition and looked at his father, whose face was a mix of happiness and puzzlement. There was a major talk coming, Frank knew, but did it really matter how he'd come to find Kenneth?
He desperately wanted to be back by Joe's side, but urged his parents to go see their son and went to the cafeteria to get some breakfast.
Two weeks later, they transferred Joe to Bayport Hospital, causing all their friends to give up on their winter activities and rush to see him. For the first time in months, Frank genuinely smiled at them as shook their heads at the unbelievable outcome.
"You are a walking miracle, Frank," Chet said over coffee in the waiting room while Phil and Biff went to see Joe. "I mean, there was nothing out there that could possibly indicate Joe was alive – and you still find him. Just-just how?"
Frank wondered if he could tell him about the clairvoyant quoting Iola, but decided against it. Maybe someday. But it reminded him of one important thing he had to do.
Frank laid a bouquet of white roses upon Iola's grave, looked at the grey cloudy skies and smiled.
"I owe you so much," he said. "You gave your life to save his. And you were there to hint about the house by the lake- or whatever that was. I will never thank you enough, Iola. But- thank you. Thank you so much more that words will ever say."
He sat silently for another few minutes, mastering all the courage to say what he'd come to say.
"Melanie, back in London. Remember what she said? That Joe had two angel-guards – one in heaven and the other here on Earth. You and me. You've-you have done an incredible job out there. But…. you can let him go back," he said with a smile, having an eerie feeling that someone was smiling at him, though he was alone in this part of the cemetery. "He'll be in good hands, I promise... I promise to be just as good as you've been."
For a brief second, there was a ray of sunlight between the snowy clouds. Frank knew he had been heard and there was a warm feeling in his heart. "Good to have you as a teammate," he laughed softly and sent a silent prayer for the girl.