Chapter 23: Open to Interpretation

"Zere you are! I 'oped I would find you 'ere." Andrea Bender said in a hushed voice. She slid into the pew beside Laura Hardy in Bayport Memorial's chapel.

"I just needed a moment to collect my thoughts." Laura replied quietly. Andrea linked her arm with Laura's and patted the petite blonde's shoulder with her other hand.

"I want to zank you for coming as soon as you did today. I was going out of my mind fearing something would 'appen to Vanessa and ze bébé before Joe could get 'ere."

"I couldn't imagine being anywhere else, Vanessa's like a daughter to me." Laura said. "Besides, being here helping you is helping to distract me. All I've been able to think about since yesterday morning is Frank, where his is and if Fenton will find him. Is he hurt, is he being mistreated by whoever took him?" The woman closed her eyes and took a calming breath. It would do no one any good for her to fall apart at a time like this.

"'Ow do you do this Laura? After all zese years of Fenton being in law enforcement, and ze boys 'ave fallen right into his footsteps. 'Ow do you stay sane? Vanessa 'asn't been married a year yet and my 'eart goes up in my throat every time she talks about Joe's job." Andrea wondered.

"I wonder about that sometimes myself. Faith I guess," Laura's fingers instinctively touched the small silver cross on a thin chain around her neck. "It's just a feeling deep down inside that the good Lord is watching over us. Somehow I just get a gut feeling that everything will work out in the end."

"I envy you your optimism."

"If I weren't optimistic I think I would have had a nervous breakdown years ago."

"So what does your gut tell you about ze bébé?"

Laura pondered this for a moment then turned to her fellow grandmother-to-be and covered the woman's hand with her smaller one.

"I think you and I are going to have a very fine time spoiling this baby rotten."

Andrea smiled at Laura and kissed her cheek. The taller woman left the chapel to continue her vigil at Vanessa's bedside until Joe arrived. Alone, Laura looked to the marble statue of the Madonna. Laura sighed and looked away, feeling guilty for having lied to Andrea in such a sacred room.

…

The door opened just enough to allow a sliver of light into the darkened hospital room. Vanessa was sleeping as peacefully as could be expected considering she was flat on her back and her feet were slightly elevated. Joe stepped into the room gingerly, not wanting to wake his wife abruptly. Her face was pale and dark circles marked the tender skin under her eyes. An oxygen cannula and I.V. were familiar sights to Joe, but on his wife they just looked wrong.

He settled into the chair near Vanessa's head and kissed her brow. She mumbled something in her sleep and shifted.

"Joe?" Joe saw Andrea standing in the doorway. He stood as she walked over to him and hugged him. "I'm so glad you're 'ere! But I thought you were going to call Laura to come get you?"

"Jack gave me a ride on his way home from the airfield. Where's Mom?"

"I just left 'er in the chapel. She needed a moment alone."

"What's the latest news?"

"Zey want her off her feet like zis for a few more days. Zey think tilting her pelvis will 'elp shift the placenta. Zey'll do another ultrasound Wednesday if she doesn't bleed anymore."

Joe sighed and rubbed his face, letting the information sink in.

"Joe? You're here!" Joe rushed to Vanessa's side.

"Hey Baby! How are you feeling?" Joe brushed Vanessa's tangled hair from her forehead and kissed her sweetly. She smiled into the kiss and touched his face with her fingertips.

"What are you doing here? Mom and Laura were doing fine keeping me company. You need to be with the others finding Frank."

"I need to be here. You are my life Vanessa. If something happened to you or the baby…"

"Shh… Joe." She ran her hand over his stubbly face.

"You didn't answer my question, how are you feeling?" Joe said after a moment.

"I'm not in any pain, just very tired, a little nauseated, and I'm worried. But during the last sonogram they ran the technician could still pick up a heartbeat. It's amazing Joe," Vanessa's eyes suddenly lit up. "It's too tiny to hear yet, but you can just make out a little flicker on the screen, it looks like a tiny butterbean."

"A butterbean, huh? Did you hear that?" Joe directed the conversation to Vanessa's belly, "You've got your first nickname kid, Butterbean!" Joe and Vanessa laughed.

They didn't notice Andrea slip from the room, but the grandmother-to-be knew this moment was just for them. She remembered sharing moments like that with Luc when she found out she was pregnant with Vanessa. How the brawny Canadian turned into a pile of mush whenever he ran his hands over her growing belly.

"Oh! Andrea! Is everything okay? I was on my way back to spell you for a bit." Laura was surprised to see Andrea in the hall with a lost look on her face.

"Ah, I'm sorry Laura. I was in my own little world, going down memory lane. Joe's 'ere, 'e's in ze room with Vanessa now, thought I'd give them a little privacy."

Laura leaned against the wall of the corridor, a look of relief washed over her face. At least one of her sons was present and accounted for. Now Fenton just needs to find Frank and bring him home safe and sound.

…

His eyes cracked open and a bright white light filled his vision. His ears were ringing and he was disoriented. He was lying on something soft.

"Welcome back to the land of the living!" He didn't recognize the voice, he turned his head and his blurry vision picked up the shape of a tall figure with blonde hair.

"Joe?" He rasped. What was Joe still doing here? He'd left for New York.

"Nah mate, Johan. I'm a friend of Amy's." He blinked a few more times and his vision finally cleared. No, that definitely was not Joe.

"Where am I?"

"I snuck you back into your hotel room. Couldn't take you to the hospital, they would have put you in detox. I found you wandering around Bourbon Street with a white powder on your face, dazed and only wearing your skivvies."

Phil sat up and looked down on his body. Sure enough, he was dressed in only his burgundy Hanes boxer briefs. Memories rushed to the front of his brain and he snapped his head up.

"That Mozelle from the perfume shop jumped me in an alley."

"You let some bird get the drop on you?" Johan laughed.

"Hey, she was as strong as an ox!" Phil defended, still feeling the throbbing pain in his cheekbone where the blonde woman had struck.

"Whatever. Look mate, if you feel up to it, your Frank has been spotted heading east in a black Mercedes. Do you feel up to getting dressed and getting back out there?"

"Yes!" Phil scrambled off the bed, but swayed as his feet hit the floor.

"Easy mate! Maybe you ought to stay here? Amy said you were a bit of an egghead, maybe you can do some sort of voodoo on your computer?" But Phil shook his head vehemently.

"No, gotta get back out there, find Frank!" He searched his drawer for some clothes and ran to the bathroom to wipe the whitish powder off of his face.

"My cell phone, my wallet?" Phil realized if his clothes were missing, so were his other belongings.

"Luckily you had those in your hand, although all your cash was gone." Phil accepted the items from the vampire and looked around in his toiletry kit for one last thing. He withdrew two vials of vampire blood. One he choked back immediately and the other he tucked into a Velcro'd pocket in his cargo pants for an emergency. Johan watched him down the dark red serum warily. Then Phil went to his suitcase and pulled out a pistol and two extra clips. The brilliant gleam of the silver bullets was unmistakable.

"Ah, um, you're not a hunter like your mate Biff are you?"

"You don't have to worry about me. I only kill the ones that try to kill me or the people I care about." Phil snapped impatiently. He tossed two silver-tipped stakes to the blonde vampire who caught them deftly with his hands. Johan looked at the stakes curiously.

"If they're moving Frank, I'll bet you anything this guy's not alone."

…..

Phil couldn't have been more right.

Shortly after leaving the French Quarter Emile instructed Eric to pull off behind a warehouse near the train tracks. There waiting behind the metal structure were two burly looking men.

"Bonne soirée mes frères." Emile greeted as each opened a door in the back and slid in, sandwiching Frank between them. The man to Frank's left had his hair cut in a mullet and was heavily tattooed. The sleeves of his camp shirt were torn off and his black tennis shoes were caked with mud. The man to his right looked like he just left a night club, his appearance was much neater, and he smelled better.

"Eric, you remember my lupine brothers Jacques and Miguel?" Eric nodded to the newcomers. He remembered them alright. They weren't his favorite people by a long shot.

"Louvel finally made you his bitch, eh bloodfucker?" Jacques sneered, snapping the dog collar against Eric's neck. Eric growled lowly at the Were and lunged for the other's neck.

"Eric! Cease and put the car back in drive!" Eric turned his attention back to the steering wheel and pulled back out onto North Peters Street.

"So Emile, this is the cutie you're selling to Delebon? I bet you fetched a pretty price for this one." Miguel said as he ran his hand on the silky inside of Frank's thigh. Frank didn't bother to flinch his leg away.

"Hands off the merchandise Miguel, you know how particular Delebon can be about his new playthings."

"You've sold people to this Delebon before?" Eric asked as he continued driving to the address Emile provided.

"Oui. He has particular tastes however. When dear Mozelle enlightened me to young Frank's… uniqueness, I knew I had another opportunity to do business with him."

"Frank's uniqueness? That he's gay?" Eric heard Jacques chortle and slap his knee.

"Gay? She-et Eric. That's Del's favorite flavor."

"Please Jacques, do not let Monsieur Delebon hear you call him that. For that matter, I would prefer you not open your mouth at all. I only need you to keep your eye on Monsieur Hardy for me so that he does not take flight." Emile turned to Eric.

"I'm sorry Eric, I know you would have liked the opportunity to say goodbye to Frank properly, but I am afraid you may find yourself emotionally compromised and find the separation quite painful. And besides, Delebon and his constituents find vampires… offensive."

Eric could hear the steering wheel under his hands crack a little as his grip tightened. He chanced a glance in the rearview mirror. Frank's eyes met his briefly then he glanced back down at his shackled hands.

"By offensive, you mean they're scared of vampires?" Eric asked. Emile smiled at his servant's perceptiveness.

"You could say that."

…..

They pulled onto a gravel path that led to a derelict, Katrina-damaged shipyard. Emile gave Eric the command to park the car.

"Monsieur Delebon will be arriving via private yacht. The three of us will escort Monsieur Hardy to the docks. I will give you a moment to say farewell. You will remain parked here in this spot until we return and enter the vehicle. Understood?"

"Yes." Eric seethed.

The three werewolves exited the vehicle and turned their backs to the windows to offer Frank and Eric a little privacy. Eric turned around in his seat and grabbed Frank by his shoulders, drawing him into a bone-crushing embrace. Eric finally allowed the tears that he had been holding back during the drive to flow.

"I'm so sorry Frank. I never meant for any of this to happen. All I had wanted was to be with you, to love you. I never thought things would get so messed up. I'll find a way to get away from Emile! I'll get Amy and Joe and your friends and we'll find you. We'll do what it takes!" Frank said nothing, although Eric could feel dampness on his bare shoulder.

"If you do get away and find Joe, tell him I'm sorry I was so hard on him. And that I'm sorry I kept things from him, I just wanted him to be safe so he could be there for Vanessa and their baby. Tell Amy and Ezekiel I said "thank you" for all their help, protection and generosity. And before Biff kills you, tell him I was sorry for judging him so harshly." Eric pulled away and looked at Frank.

"You're going to tell them all those things when we find you!" But Frank simply shook his head.

The back passenger door opened and Emile commanded for Eric to stay put. Jacques grabbed Frank's arm and roughly pulled him out of the car.

"Frank! No please Emile, don't do this!" But his pleas were cut off by the car door slamming shut. He watched as Emile lead the procession to the docks, Frank shuffled between Jacques and Miguel, his head hung low. Eric noticed Frank had a limp in his step. The serum in his system must be petering out. Why didn't he think to let Frank have a few ounces of his blood before they finished up in the basement? He should have made Frank drink while he had the brunette in the shower washing off Phil's blood. He certainly wasn't in any condition to protest then.

Think Eric, think! Go! Get help! Eric started to open the car door but his head instantly began to flare with pain. He started the car engine and nearly blacked out. Eric glared at his master as he and the others walked further away. Emile had not even broken his stride, he just turned his head to smile smugly and tap his temple with the handle of Frank's cane.

Okay, he could not leave the car and he could not leave in the car. He was stuck, they were screwed! Out of the corner of his eye he spied Emile's cell phone sitting in the passenger seat. He picked it up. Nothing happened. Then it occurred to Eric… if Emile could interpret the terms of their agreement to his advantage, why couldn't he? Emile told him to stay in the car. He didn't say a damned thing about using his phone.

…..

Author's Note:

Phil lives! (*cue thunder sound effects and manic-Dr. Frankenstein-laughter*)