To Fluffykitty 12. Thanks for helping w the end. And for endless patience teaching me how to get this off my phone n posted.

And thx to God

Pls review

Pov Frank

I push open the recovery room door. Joe lies still and pale. An image of my brother in an open coffin flashes through my mind. The beeping of the heart monitor calms me. Joe is still here. But for how long?

I have so much to tell Joe but I can't get a single word out. Will Joe ever open his blue eyes again? Will I be an only child in a few hours?

I hold Joe's letter in one hand. With my other hand I brush Joe's hair off his bruised forehead. His face, arms and chest are covered in cuts and bruises. How did I let this happen to Joe? I have no words.

A man in green scrubs walks in the room. I look at him. He pulls out a gun with a silencer.

"I'm here to finish what I started. My client is paying me to kill both of you," the thug says.

I stand up. No way is this guy getting near Joe. I take a step toward the guy.

"Who are you?" I ask. My goal is to keep him talking and make him forget about Joe. I take another step toward him.

"My name doesn't matter," he says and takes a step back. He aims his gun at Joe. I am helpless.

"Walk over to the chair or I will kill him," the man says.

I force myself to walk away from Joe. I have no choice. But I hate it.

"Very good. I couldn't believe you both survived," the man says. "Of course a five percent chance isn't really surviving."

"Why?" I ask.

"I have $50 million reasons. As soon as the newspapers report you dead, my money will go in a Swiss account."

"Who?" I ask as I try to stall for time.

"Your dad has made a lot of enemies. Pick one," the man says. He pulls Joe's hair back and wraps his arm around Joe's throat.

"Get your hands off him!" I shout.

"You are in no position to make demands," the thug says. He smiles as he tightens his grip around Joe's neck. Joe grimaces in pain. "You decide. Do I kill him first or you?"

Pov Joe

Pain. My head explodes with pain. Where am I?

"Get your hands off him!" Frank shouts.

He sounds angry. Beneath the anger I hear fear in Frank's voice. I struggle to open my eyes. Most of my view is blocked by a hand the guy holds over my mouth.

The guy holding me says something and tightens his grip around my throat. I can't breathe. He loosens his arm and says, "Do I kill him first or you?"

Not a choice I want Frank to make.

"Me," Frank says.

"Ok. I'll kill you first," the guy says.

I don't know where I am or what happened. But I do know one thing - no one hurts Frank as long as I'm breathing. Feet and arms won't move. I have double vision. How can I help Frank when I can't move?

"Goodbye Frank," the man says.

I am out of time. God, I need you. I open my mouth, slide my jaws over the guy's horizontal index finger, and bite.

I feel his skin between my jaws. He jerks his hand but I won't let go. Frank dives on the guy. They crash on the floor. Frank and the guy trade punches. I squint my eyes to focus. Where is the gun?

I see it on the floor. I roll out of bed and land on the gun. I fumble trying to make my hand close around the gun.

Frank punches the thug in the face. The guy collapses on the floor. Frank falls to his knees.

"You ok?" Frank asks as he collapses.

Frank's barely conscious. No way can I tie up the bad guy.

"I'll get backup," I whisper as the room starts to spin.

"How? You're in worse shape than me," Frank whispers.

"Got a plan," I say.

"No plans," Frank whispers.

"Trust me. I got this," I say. I aim the gun at the upper corner of the window with shades drawn. I I pull the trigger. The glass shatters.

Dad and Sam run in as my world fades to black.

Pov Frank

A week later, I found myself sharing a hospital room with Joe. I had a few broken ribs and a concussion. Dad and Sam hired a security firm to guard our room. They also tracked down who put out a contract on us. Dad flew halfway around the world to capture them while Sam stayed with us. Joe was out of danger but he still wasn't acting like himself. I was worried.

Sam walked in smiling.

"Your dad got his man," Sam said.

"He ok?" Joe mumbled.

"Not a scratch on him," Sam said.

"Nice of you to join us, Sleeping Beauty," I said.

"Not sleeping," Joe said. "Thinking. And don't call me Sleeping Beauty."

"Ok. Rottweiler, did you know you snore when you think?" I asked

"Rottweiler?" Sam asked

"Joe's nickname in kindergarten," I said.

"Kind of unusual nickname," Sam said.

I watch Joe's face turn red. This is going to be fun.

"Joe's an unusual guy. Want to hear the story?" I asked.

"No!" Joe said. "Sam doesn't have time."

"I'd love to hear it," Sam said and sat down.

"Had a bully in my class. Mike got held back a year so he was bigger than all the other first graders. Mike made my life miserable. When the teacher wasn't looking he'd kick me, trip me or knock my stuff on the floor. He said if I told anybody he would burn down my house with me in it."

"One day during recess, I made the mistake of being alone on the playground by the slide. Mike punched me and jumped on me. He had his fist back to punch me again when I heard those words I'll never forget. 'Get off my brother, you piece of dog poop!'"

"Crap," Joe said from his hospital bed.

"No, you said 'piece of dog poop,'"I said and smiled.

"I was five," Joe said.

"What happened to the piece of dog poop?" Sam asked.

"Joe ran like a torpedo and knocked Mike over," I said.

"How did Joe do that if he was smaller?" Sam asked.

"His elbow hit Mike's family jewels," I said.

Sam laughed out loud. Joe's cheeks got redder.

"When Mike went down, Joe jumped on him and bit his arm. Mike's screams got everybody's attention," I said.

Joe pulled the bed sheet over his face.

Sam laughed so hard, he couldn't catch his breath.

"Took two teachers to get Joe's teeth off Mike's arm," I said. "We got sent to the principal's office. Mike went to the nurse's office."

"Joe, there's nothing embarrassing about that story," Sam said.

"Wait for it," Joe's said from under the sheet.

"Joe heard the principal ate the kids who got sent to his office. He was so scared he hid under the principal's desk and peed himself," I said. "I don't think they ever got the stain out of the carpet. And that's why we call him the Rottweiler. Joe, you want to add anything?"

"You're a piece of dog poop," Joe muttered.

I smiled. My brother was back.