Growing Down - Chapter Nine
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Chapter 9
They were both showered and dressed by the time Harris showed up around noon with food for all three of them, and they dug in, neither realizing just how hungry they were until those deli sandwiches were in front of them. Clean clothing and food did a lot for the duo, and soon all three men were sitting in the hotel room and Joe had a pair of scissors as he reluctantly began chopping off those curls. He couldn’t bear to cut them all off, though, not the short cut he knew Nick wanted but definitely shorter than it was. Enough to run his fingers through, at the very least, and curls just long enough for him to be able to play with them. Suddenly he found himself doing just that and he realized Nick’s point. Regrettably, he brought the scissors back up with a sigh, hands leaving those dark tresses to begin cutting once more.
“Joe, I’m sure that’s fine,” he heard and looked up hopefully, feeling Nick’s hand brush against his as his brother took the scissors. Joe couldn’t help but smile as he took a sip from the water bottle in front of him then another bite of the sandwich, linking his free hand with Nick’s under the table and Nick actually let him.
“Alright, so we didn’t find a trace of the people who, ah, blew up your house,” Harris said with an apologetic and somewhat ashamed expression on his face. “Some of our best men have been at the site since it was declared safe enough to examine.” Joe sighed; his house was now ground zero, so to speak. He blinked, realizing he should call Gloria and tell her she didn’t have to come in for a while, then shook his head as he recalled how all over the news it must be by now. “Naturally, all your appointments for the day have been cancelled they, er, completely understand security must be your first priority.”
This was good, Harris was doing his job and telling Joe everything he needed to hear in this debriefing before trying to force answers out of the two present Jonai. “Thank you,” Joe said a bit awkwardly then added, “It was nice to have some time this morning but I need to get back to work.” That, it seemed, took the other two by surprise and he shrugged. “If people are to take my announcement seriously, then I need to keep going, and I also want to stand by my other statement that I’m not going to cower-“
”Your house was blown up!” Nick said incredulously, eyes bulging and both men stared at Joe who only blushed slightly before clearing his throat. Suddenly, coming back to himself with his random outburst over, Nick turned so he was fully facing his brother. “You’re pretty brave, you know? And you’re smart; and really, really good. I’m proud to-“ Nick paused awkwardly, and to anyone aside from Joe it wouldn’t be obvious that the words coming out of his mouth next weren’t what he’d originally planned to say, “be your brother.”
“Nah, I’m just stupid,” Joe said, shaking his head and looking at his feet, knowing the disapproving look that would be on Nick’s face if he let himself look up. He heard an unhappy sigh from next to him but was glad that the subject was being changed back to the topic as he cleared his throat again. “So I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to take too much time off because of this. Maybe just today,” he gave a compromising, side-long glance in Nick’s direction who nodded, “But I’d like to get back to living my life although it might be a while before I find a new place.”
“Very well,” Harris said and then took a deep breath. “Now that that is in order, I think it would be wise if you cleared a few things up, Mr. President.” This time, Joe let himself stare at Nick, since it was a bit appropriate at the moment even though he took it as an excuse to admire that strong profile. Their hands were still touching under the table, pinky and ring fingers lightly grasping at each other’s even through their irritation with the other.
“I, uhm,” Nick looked at Joe as if asking to be saved from telling this story, hand gripping his older brother’s more firmly. He could feel Nick’s hand was slick, sweaty, and he gave that hand a gentle, reassuring squeeze. “I don’t really know where I’ve been,” Nick started slowly, “And there have been a lot of security concerns lately from before I vanished.” Instinctually, Joe wrapped an arm around Nick’s shoulders, moving his chair closer and rubbing at Nick’s arm as he attempted to comfort his baby boy. Turning into the embrace slightly, but definitely doing nothing to turn away, both of them knew any acceptable reason to touch was worth it as Nick took a deep, steadying breath. “I had to get out, I knew too much and did things I’m not proud of, but I can’t take them back and I wouldn’t,” he did pull back then, staring at Joe as if the older man should know what Nick was talking about.
“Nicky?” he asked, seeing wet shine in those brown eyes before they blinked a few times and he pulled Joe into a tight hug, shivering as some memory Joe didn’t know about was reconstructed in his mind. It was painful to know that Nick had gone through such a horrid time without him. It hurt him almost physically that there were things in such a long period of time that Joe didn’t know about, would never truly understand, and it really hurt. This was a distance between them that had never existed before, the pain each had felt while the other was nowhere around.
“I went under the water, I was supposed to be picked up later by my team but instead there was a small sub hidden in some coral and plant life, and men in scuba gear grabbed me, stuffing one of their masks over my mouth.” His voice was soft but fast as if, maybe if he said it faster it would be less scary, but Joe knew otherwise. “I didn’t see any faces, not then, not ever and they blindfolded me and drugged me with some sort of sedative. When I wasn’t blindfolded, they were wearing these ski masks. They kept talking about their plans for my country,” Joe was holding his breath as he listened but couldn’t help the small smile when Nick called America his, and also couldn’t suppress the shiver at the words ‘ski mask.’ “They had our money, not real of course, but they had tons of it and were talking about how they already own more land and airspace in America than any of us. They beat me regularly, trying to get information, giving me insulin only when I really needed it. I had a few seizures.”
Joe’s eyes bulged at that, although it was something he should have been expecting, and he kissed the top of those curls firmly. “Nothing too bad and they must have had a doctor or someone with a lot of knowledge in the medical field there regarding Diabetes, because I was more or less taken care of. But sometimes they would hold off giving me the insulin, sometimes they would purposefully wait so long that I had a seizure as some sort of punishment for not cooperating with them. If they hadn’t had orders to keep me alive, I’m fairly certain all of them wished they could kill me. I never told them anything.”
“Of course not,” Joe said, running his fingers through Nick’s hair, along his back, trying anything just to chase away the shattered look in Nick’s eyes. Now he thought he understood that while Nick had always had that fear of the dark and, unless Joe was with him, had always refused to sleep without some small source of light well it would probably be worse after what his brother had been through. Hell and back, from what it sounded like, killing something in Joe during the process.
“Joe I swear, I never said anything to them, but some days I really, really wanted to.” Pulling back enough to look Nick in the eyes, Joe pressed their foreheads together, noses rubbing against each other’s gently as Nick took deep, steadying breaths again. He understood that Nick wasn’t just talking about politics, now, and he pulled away after a few too-short seconds because decency didn’t really allow for much else. Their relationship blurred so many lines and they were close, especially for siblings, and they didn’t do much to hide the fact. Famously close, some would put it, infamously or notoriously were words others would use, and there were still more that Joe refused to let himself think about.
Their hands stayed linked under the table, a small concession that neither was really ready to let go just yet, even if it meant raising suspicion a bit higher. Nick cleared his throat, business-like, and continued speaking. “They gave me drugs, anything they could think of,” he cast a look in Joe’s direction, “I asked for you a lot, there were times when I was hallucinating, thought I was back or thought I was with you or someone else.” Jaw clenched tightly against interrupting and demanding Nick to tell him things he had already said he didn’t know, Joe kept his silence although he was finding it increasingly difficult. “I don’t know what they gave me but some of it’s probably still in my system. I could get tested, but I’d much rather wait until this is all over with.”
Suddenly, Nick sucked his bottom lip inward before realizing the tell for what it was and released it. Joe let go of his hand and pulled back a bit, wary for some reason as he asked, “What else did they do to you?” The look Nick gave him was a sordid mix of sadness, regret and devastation that Joe was only made all the more cautious; even Harris seemed to sense something was up as he leaned forward in his chair. He’d wanted to take notes but Nick had forbidden it, just in case.
Nick looked as if he didn’t want to answer, as if the answers would make Joe mad, but finally he said, “When pain failed to get them answers, and drugs failed, they tried, uhm, sexual stimulation?” He felt as though his heart stopped and he took in shaky breaths, standing up and knocking his chair to the floor as he did so. “They used toys,” Nick added, his eyes never leaving Joe as the older man paced back and forth. That wasn’t as bad as Joe had been imagining, not really, but fuck! Nick was his, that was just how it was and he picked his chair up, sitting again but unable to help the slight tremble in his hands.
“I’ll kill them,” he muttered, face and voice dead serious as he looked at Nick, a wild look in his eyes. In that moment, Joe meant it. A lot of people would say he’d never hurt a fly, and maybe it had been true once, but this changed something in him and he knew that if he ever came face to face with one of the people who had done this to Nick he would kill them. He’d wanted to kill them before, wanted them to rot in jail for the rest of their natural lives, but now he didn’t want them to have a fair trial, anymore. No, if he saw them, he would kill them. It was that simple.
“I don’t want you ever to become a killer because of me,” Nick shivered, “Although I understand what you are feeling.” And at this, Nick trembled slightly, the only part of him not shaking was the knee gently pressed against Joe’s.
“Alright, why don’t you try and tell me anything you can remember about them, and also about what was supposed to happen? You mentioned things didn’t go as planned?” Joe and Nick both stared at Harris as if they’d quite forgotten he was there, and Harris added, “Anything to help narrow our search that you can think of?”
Nick sighed and said, “I really can’t say, but they all had different accents.” He paused, seemed to think about it, and then corrected himself. “I don’t mean that each person’s accent was different, only that the accents I heard were in a great variety.” Harris nodded as though this were important, but Joe hadn’t the foggiest as to how pertinent this information was and then he gaped, recalling the encounter he’d had in Paris with those two thugs. Also, a lot of accents might mean multiple countries cooperating with each other against the U.S.
“Uh, I think I should tell you something,” he said a bit sheepishly, then launched into the story about his run in with Vlad and Marc, but he left out the bits about their taunting him but he doubted it had fooled Nick. He felt his brother take his hand again below the table and he felt a little bit better, a little less murderous, because he was pretty sure Harris was pissed at him now.
“And you didn’t think these details important to tell us at the time?” he asked simply and Joe shook his head. He’d just gotten into a fight, and while he knew they hadn’t been minor details, and he could have mentioned the fight at all, but he hadn’t and it was water under the bridge. “Very well, Nick?” he asked, dropping the formality like he used to do, obviously nearing his last leg of patience.
“Right, well, I coordinated with some Secret Service, whose names I will not divulge, and they were to help me plan an escape. It just went wrong, though, one of them must have given me up to that group and I don’t want to believe that.” It was then Joe noticed that his brother’s hand was sweaty again and he massaged it gently with his fingers, thumb digging lightly into the man’s palm in soothing circles and Nick gave his hand a gentle, grateful squeeze in return. “Like I said, it was all sort of a blur after that, but one of the foreigners helped me escape, gave me enough food I could survive a day or two on my own and I managed to get back to Joe’s.” Their eyes met and they exchanged a look and Joe knew, just knew, that everything would somehow work out.
Later that day when he was going through the motions of work, meeting with this person and that person, he kept that look in mind as well as keeping his eyes open in case he noticed anything out of the ordinary. Although he had other houses, none were in DC, and at Nick’s go ahead he accepted the offer to move into the White House at last, wondering if they were perhaps somehow connected to what happened to his house. When he’d mentioned the possibility to Nick, his brother had only smiled in a proud sort of way, as if Joe were piecing together some sort of puzzle. As much as he understood why Nick was making him do this, he would have believed any and all information Nick had been willing to divulge.
The National Guard kept searching, but it dwindled from twice a week to once, and he let it. Nick was safe in a nice hotel, and they kept switching what hotel he stayed at every few days just in case. It was almost two weeks and he thought he’d heard the worst of it, and he was alone in his new room when his cell phone rang and it was from an Unknown Caller. Debating whether or not to let it go to voicemail, he picked it up, checking the time and how it was almost midnight. “’Lo?” he asked curiously, lazily. But the voice on the other end was fake, mechanical, and it sent chills down his spine.
“Joseph Jonas,” the voice said and he suddenly wished he weren’t alone. “I’ll make this very simple for you. If you cooperate with us and hand yourself over with no fuss, we’ll let your brother live when this is all over.” He didn’t need to ask which brother they were referring to, for some reason he didn’t think they gave a damn about Kevin or Frankie. As if trying to seal the deal with intimidation the voice said, “Unless you’d rather he end up like that guy washed up on the Pacific Coast you had to pay a visit to.”
He sat up, fighting the urge to vomit as he remembered being in that morgue, coughing and blinking to rid himself of that feeling, tears stinging in his eyes as he imagined it had been Nick. “Why - why are you coming to me? Why are you calling me? Just leave me alone you murderous bastard!”
Mechanical laughter filtered through, tinny and bone-numbingly chilling. “Tut-tut, before you go aiming those words at me, you should ask your precious brother if he’s done anything to earn that title lately. As for why you? I’d have thought that would be obvious. Because out of everything in his life, you are what he treasures most.” This stopped Joe completely and he held his breath, waiting for the other person to continue. Nick a murderer? He shook his head, not wanting to believe it at all. “Did you know that ever since the beginning you’ve had more protection than he did?” Joe’s silence, apparently, said it all, “I thought not.”
He was a tornado of confusion, of emotions and feelings, and under it all he couldn’t believe Nick had taken that risk and put more security on him than on himself. “He screamed for you, begged for you, whether he was aware of it or not.” His breath caught; gut wrenching in a painful way as he cried silently.
“What do you want?” he asked, not bothering to hide the distraught in his voice, the stuffy sniffle as he tried to stop crying.
“That’s easy,” the voice said. “I want you and your brother to suffer. It’s payback now for what he did to me. It’s not fair you two can have it all the way you do.”
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