The early afternoon was calm and the rare cloudless sky a uniform shade of stark blue. Frank hoped it was a promise to better days ahead, maybe not for himself but for Joe. Looking up, it seemed as if the seasons had skipped winter and spring all together, fast-forwarding to summer and Heaven celebrated by donning on its azure silk scarf.

She caught him before he knocked on Joe’s door. It was late morning and since he did not have classes for that day, he thought he would call in on Joe early, a little guilty at not contacting Joe at all yesterday save an SMS to ask Joe how he was to which he got no reply.

"Hi, Frank! Care to have a moment with me before you go see your brother?"

"Yes, Emily?" He turned around to face the stately, smiling psychiatrist. There was something about the experienced psychiatrist that overwhelmed him with the sense that someone wise, someone who had seen many trials through her own and others’ eyes, would take good care of Joe.

"Come into my office. We have much to talk about."

It was Thursday, the third day that Joe had been warded into Sanctuary. Now that reality had sunk in, Frank could view the whole situation in a more logical, rational manner but it only disheartened him all the more. Sanctuary, with its pretty architecture and surroundings, was but another euphemism for a mental hospital. Though Joe was not watched over stringently, Emily had hinted that Joe was in a precarious situation where his mental condition was cause for concern. Anyone could have told Frank that yet, when the words were spoken from the lips of a professional, the point was driven home with much more impact.

Yesterday had been uneventful except for the troubling discovery in Brian’s room. Frank did not want to lay any permanent conclusion down yet because he thought the cat-pin seemed too new. He went home after the search and could not do anything- not his research, not catch up on his reading, nothing. He wanted to rush to Sanctuary to visit Joe but was held back at the same time by a sinking sensation in his stomach. What would he tell Joe? And he thought of confronting Brian as well but it was yet another difficult action. Thus Frank decided he would gather as much information as he could before he would either exculpate or condemn an old friend. The issue burned at the back of his mind and he knew he would need to take action fast but detective work was never easy when the suspect was someone close to him. Based on that, he realized he could never achieve impartiality.

The two brothers were sitting underneath a huge maple tree in the middle of the wide open field where Sanctuary was situated. The sun was a bit too glaring and the lack of shades was definitely being felt by Frank’s eyes. At least they had the maple tree to protect them from the sweltering golden rays. Frank shielded his eyes with one hand to look up at the sky and squinted against the molten, bubbling, champagne ball hanging up in the blue heavens, admiring the single hue on a perfect, sunny day with the warmth to melt away his own quandaries.

"Are you done with the apple? I can eat it whole, you know. By the time you’re done, I’ll be spotting gray hairs." Joe grumbled next to him and he faced his brother just in time to see him plucking out a maligned blade of grass which had inadvertently offended him by merely existing in a position which might have tickled his exposed shin. Joe tore the grass into little bits, reminding Frank of what he himself loved to do with paper napkins and tissues when he was bored silly or restless with nothing to do.

"Sorry… here you go…" He handed Joe a slice which he had cut and took up the other half of the fruit from the plate he brought along to slice it up into further segments. Joe brushed away the remains of dead grass from his palms, took the apple and ate it listlessly. The dark circles around Joe’s eyes were worse than Frank remembered- the sapphire orbs swollen from too much crying in the dead of the night.

"Emily says you can go out as often as you want as long as you return at the stipulated time, attend your sessions, and most importantly, that you are escorted by us. This means you can make it for Maggie’s concert and Chet’s birthday party. Callie knows you’re here, I told her. She asked about you and if she could visit."

"Tell the whole world to come. I don’t care." Joe had polished off the slice and was now chewing on his nails. His nails- they used to be well-kept but lately, Frank noticed that they were either too long with dirt trapped between or that they were badly jagged at the edges. More undesirable changes- Joe was a thousand steps away from his heartthrob days.

"They’re still your friends. They do care." Frank chided Joe gently and passed Joe another slice to which his brother shook his head in refusal and huddled his knees close to him, now fiddling with more blades of grass beside him that had grown wild

"I’m sorry, I’m just feeling a little sinister lately. Yes, she can come. Everyone can come and I promise to smile and be happy…" Joe replied flippantly before he started humming London Bridge is Falling Down.

"Joe…" Frank dragged and let out a sigh of resignation when Joe simply snapped the bud off a harmless daffodil.

"Frank…" Joe replied him, mockingly.

Frank twisted his lips but decided to ignore the mocking mimicking. He went back to paring the rest of the large, Fuji apple and ate it all up himself.

Suddenly, he was aware of Joe’s breathing next to him, growing heavier and heavier with each breath. He knew Joe well enough to recognize signs of confession- the same signs that showed when he had to inform Fenton of any tests he had flunked while he was still a freshman in high-school, devoting too much time to sports, leaving the rest for fun and music, and delegating none for schoolwork. Thankfully, that playful, irresponsible phase passed when Joe realized how close he had come to being barred from playing football and pulled up his socks to grab the Bs and occasional As.

"They mixed hot water with sugar. The hot water scalds the skin and when the sugar dissolves, it’s permanent disfigurement." Joe rattled and stopped abruptly as if he was reciting from a memorized script and when the prepared soliloquy ended, he was lost as well.

"Huh?" Frank eyed Joe curiously, a little taken aback but not by the confession. He was speechless by the information and it was not difficult to tell what Joe was referring to.

"Nope, I’ll only say it once." Joe clamed up and rocked back and forth repeatedly. "Once and that’s all…"

"Why did they do that?" Frank asked softly, putting an arm around Joe who shook his head vaguely, his forlorn summer eyes fixed onto the ground.

"Little by little. You’ll get it little by little…" he chanted childishly, like he was performing a nursery rhyme.

"Ok. Little by little…" Frank inhaled deeply and could not help but stare at Joe’s hands. He was not wearing gloves then. Frank could imagine how painful it must have been.

Flesh. The heat eating away the layers… pain… agony.

"So what about the case? You found any dirt on him?" Joe asked, clever at changing topic, or rather, that should be the question he most wanted to ask Frank. Frank removed his hand from Joe’s shoulder and raked his hair, clearing his throat in the process.

"Joe, what did Ness’s cat-pin look like?"

Joe bit his lips and closed his eyes, his brows knitting with some effort at recalling. "The gold-plating’s peeling away at the edges but it still looks good. The eyes are made of sapphire gems, brilliant and beautiful… she said they reminded her of me. And her name’s engraved on the back. I had it done for her. The lady at the jewelry shop said, ‘Vanessa’s too long a name. Can it be shorter?’ I haggled with her but finally, we compromised on ‘Nessa’. It was very well-done in a special font. Cost me more but it was worth it. A simple errand for her but it made her face light up in the brightest smile…" Joe smiled then, a picture of serenity before his lips straightened into a tight line.

Biff’s cat-pin looks new without any engraving at the back.

He heaved a sigh of relief and Joe heard it. Consuming blue eyes gazed at him from beside him and he shivered.

"Is there something you found out?" Joe demanded and gripped Frank’s forearm hard, forgetting about his scars and his fear of touch for that moment. Frank felt the sting shooting up his limb, paralyzing him.

"No… Joe… there’s…" Frank tried to skirt the issue off but it was a feeble attempt.

"There’s something. You’re lying to me! Tell me!" Joe insisted, applying more strength in his grip.

"I found a cat-pin in his Deuter. But it isn’t the same. Her name’s not on the back and it’s new." Frank acquiesced to Joe’s demands, knowing he could never lie to Joe even when he could lie to a polygraph machine.

Joe released his hold and returned to his original position of huddled feet and rocking body. "Maybe he bought a pin for you to find, so you’d find it but wait, look! That’s not the same pin! He knew that you’d believe in his innocence! He has the real pin but you didn’t find it, happy with the one you have!" Nearing the end of his verbalized deduction, Joe nodded his head vehemently, convinced of his hypothesis even though Frank was not.

"Joe, I don’t think that’s the case. I don’t think he’s the one who killed Ne…"

"Who took Ness away…" Joe corrected him and Frank sighed again with frustration.

"Ok. Took Ness away. Whatever it is, I think it’s more likely to be someone else."

"Who?" Joe challenged, facing Frank again, his blue eyes dancing with fire-sparks. Frank shrugged, admitting he had no one else in mind wordlessly. Joe smiled in triumph for a moment but it was soon dissolved.

"You’re right. Maybe he’s not the one and I am terribly prejudiced at this point in time. Let’s not talk about this. Update me. How’s Chet’s party coming along?"

Frank raised a brow, surprised that Joe even cared. "Oh… I haven’t asked him but… I don’t think its coming along quickly…"

Joe smiled then with more sanity, almost like his old self again. "I’d love to help out. I’m sorry about just now… I..." He frowned and furrowed his brows before shrugging lightly. "Like I said, I was just feeling sinister but I really meant it now… I mean… I mean it when… forget it." Joe waved a hand in the air, dismissing himself.

"I understand. I’ll tell Chet. Maybe helping out with the party will keep you occupied enough to get you off my back." Frank jested and locked Joe’s neck in a bogus stranglehold, eliciting feigned gasps from Joe.

"Pesky irritant." He kidded affectionately and Joe let out a small laugh, and elbowed Frank away a little too enthusiastically, knocking Frank’s ribs rather painfully.

"Ouch! I was only joking!" Frank protested, rubbing his ribcage and Joe gave him an apologetic look.

"Sorriez… geez…you’re such a wimp…"

"Thank you very much for your kind compliments." Frank muttered derisively before he broke into a smile himself.

"You should feel lucky that I was awake when you came. Mom and Maggie had to watch me sleep most of the time last night."

The reminder about Joe’s state sobered Frank who sat up straighter and smiled grimly, feeling slightly disorientated by the sudden change in mood- from tenseness to humor that somehow, seemed forced though it brightened his day spiritually for a moment.

"I’m sorry… I didn’t come yesterday."

"Nay, forget it. I’ll be out of here, Frank. I won’t be here long…" Joe gazed at the horizon wistfully. "If I act crazy, just whack me on the head."

"Then you’ll be crazier." Frank ruffled the blond hair and the grimness melted from his smile.

"Or maybe the screws will fall back in place." Joe rounded his eyes and gave Frank a bemused expression before his mien became all somber again.

"I… I have somewhere to go in a couple of days… I’ll request for time-out. Will you just… just come with me and don’t ask any questions for now?"

Frank gave Joe a thoughtful, baffled look. "Where?"

Joe cast his eyes downwards to the ground again before he muttered so softly that Frank almost could not catch.

"Somewhere to decide my fate." 

***

"Joe is severely depressed and really needs medication but I think you know that. He’s delusional and can get violent. Not only that, he is showing signs of being extremely traumatized, either physically, mentally, sexually or a combination of those, being afraid of contact and all. Would you happen to know anything about it?" Emily asked with concern hooding her eyelids.

"He was in prison for a while." Frank admitted what Emily already knew. She nodded and went back to her file on Joe. They were in her office which was decorated with green plants. Soothing classical music suited to his taste played in the background.

"Of course. His hands. When he is better, maybe some surgery would help."

"Whatever surgeries there are in the world, Emily, they can’t stitch him up whole, can they?"

"No…" She pressed her lips together before throwing him a grim smile.

"He must love Vanessa Bender a lot."

Frank closed his eyes for a moment before he exhaled heavily.

"Yes. He does. A lot."