You guys are all awesome.

…

The hospital hadn't changed at all since he had last seen it. Kyle made a face as he flopped down on one of the chairs in the hallway, waiting for Nate to call him in.

That smell… Wrinkling his nose, he averted his face, trying to think of something else.

Heath had called earlier, something about a stuffed up delivery at the restaurant, and Kyle couldn't wait to go over there and help his middle brother out. But Brax had insisted he go see Nate first.

Because of the stupid episode from a night ago…

"Oi! Kyle."

"What?"

Turning his head, he saw his oldest brother squint at him, a question in his face. Then he wiped a hand over his eyes, shaking his head.

"Yeh, never mind. I was gonna say I'll leave you to it and pick you up later, but looks like it's a better idea I stay."

"What, no! I'm fine, Brax. Don't treat me like a bloody kid. I can go to the doc alone."

"Yeh? Coz, frankly, it doesn't look like it. The minute I leave, you'll bail."

"Brax-"

With a grin, his brother waved him off.

"Nah. Ya can't fool me. I've seen that face. On more than one brother. I'll go in with you."

Rolling his eyes, Kyle sighed. But he was too smart to argue. His brother would have none of it anyway. Before he could so much as get out a "Do what you have to", the door to Nate's office opened and the doc poked his head out.

"Ah, Kyle. Come in. - Brax."

"I'm going in with him, Doc. No discussion."

Nate shrugged, turning his attention to Kyle.

"Only if you're okay with that, Kyle."

The way the doc looked at him, all kind and caring, gave Kyle a weird pang. The man was giving him a chance to keep Brax away, and he was strangely grateful for that. Still, he wasn't going to take him up on the offer.

"It's fine, doc. No secrets in this family." He grinned a lopsided grin, then followed Nate into the office, his stomach turning into an uncomfortable pit.

He really didn't want to be here. Didn't want to talk about himself, his health, his nightmares…

Why couldn't he have kept it together at night? Then they'd be down by the beach now, surfing, playing the guitar.

He'd have liked to hear the sound of the ocean-

"Kyle?"

"Huh?"

Nate frowned at him, and out of the corner of his eye, he could feel more than see Brax shoot him a look.

"The test results all came back fine. Your lungs are okay so far. Still, last night has me a bit worried. You doing okay with everything? Head giving you trouble?"

"Nah, doc. I'm fine. Haven't even had a headache in forever."

"What about nightmares. You had those a lot at the beginning, right?"

Kyle bit his lip, awfully aware of Brax right next to him. Putting on a fake grin, he waved Nate off.

"That's in the past. - Honestly, can't we all just pretend yesterday never happened? I just… I'm really fine. It's a cold, that's all. I'm getting a cold."

Nate shot him a glance, then Brax.

"Your throat does look a bit inflamed," he allowed, jotting something down on a paper in front of him. Kyle curled his hands into fists, forcing himself to stay calm. When Nate looked back up, he nodded, smiling. "Alright. I'll prescribe you some cold medicine, and a week of rest at home. No work-"

"What?! Doc-" Kyle jumped up, upset now, but Brax pulled him back by the arm.

"Sit," he ordered and Kyle glared at him, but followed the order anyways, slumping heavily back into the chair.

Nate eyed them both warily.

"You seem stressed, Kyle. And something is obviously going on. I want you to go back to Dr. Morgenstern sometime within the next few days. - And Brax? Make sure he does stay home. If it's just a cold, good. Some rest will help with that, too. But if it's something else, post traumatic stress flaring up again, we want to stay on top of that."

"Right."

Dr. Morgenstern. Kyle rolled his eyes. He was done with the stupid shrink. He hadn't needed to go in months. Months! Why would he have to go back now?

"Kyle."

What a bloody awful morning. He was so done with all this. Maybe he should do what Casey had done, just get the hell out of Summer Bay. The place was beginning to suffocate him.

"Oi! Kyle!"

"What?"

Brax frowned at him - like so often lately, then patted him on the shoulder.

"Time to go home, mate. Come on."

Glaring at his brother, then Nate, Kyle clenched his teeth, unsure of what to think or say, or even do. Then he sighed, just allowing his oldest brother to bring him back home.

Maybe he could just go to bed, conk out, sleep this god-awful day away, and then, tomorrow morning, they could start with their usual routine and all would be okay again.

Yeah, that sounded like a good plan...

…

The calendar on the wall kept glaring at Andy whenever he lifted his head. It showed a nice beachy scene - something that should have been soothing and pretty, but all he could see in it was a sick reminder of the fact that it had been a year now since Josh had died.

Today marked the day - exactly one year - and yet the world kept on spinning and the happy beach on the calendar was mocking him every chance it got.

Screw that.

Jumping off the kitchen chair, he almost toppled his bowl of now soggy cereal over, catching it at the last second. That would have just been his luck.

It wasn't even eight yet, but already he knew this wasn't going to be a good day.

He picked up the bowl and put it in the sink with a little too much verve, making it clang and then… break.

Awesome.

Gritting his teeth, he decided to leave the stupid thing where it was, then rushed for the door, grabbing his surfboard along the way.

They hadn't been out surfing in the early hours this morning, for the first time in a very long time, thanks to Kyle's panic attack in the middle of the night, and while he couldn't - and didn't - blame the poor bloke, he was still strangely upset over that.

He could have used the distraction, today more than on any other day, but it hadn't been meant to be.

With a sigh, he went on his way down to the beach, hoping that the surf was good and he'd be able to think of nothing but the next wave for a bit.

When his cell phone chimed, he briefly checked the display, seeing Hannah's name light up, and for a second, his finger twitched, but then he slid the cell back into his pocket. She didn't need this, his crabby mood and bad temper. It would be better for both of them if he just called her back later.

Yeah…

…

"Ugh!"

Heath tossed the ledger down on the table at Angelo's, throwing in the towel. Nothing was going according to plan today. First the liquor guy had stuffed up the delivery and they were low on gin and champagne, not to mention the Scotch, and now the numbers didn't want to add up either.

"Uh, Heath…"

He looked up to see Matt poke his head in from over by the kitchen, and he could tell that he wasn't going to like what the kid had to say.

"What now?"

"Cook told me to tell you… um…"

"Spit it out already."

"Stove isn't working."

Huffing, Heath rolled his eyes, cursing loudly as he got up to go check for himself.

"What the bloody hell is going on today?" he asked no one in particular, and poor Matt shrugged at him with an awkward grin.

"Not your morning, huh?"

"You could say that again."

Pressing his lips together, he stalked toward the kitchen, ready to check out the mess.

"So, what's the bloody problem here?" he asked, squinting over at the stove, and the cook in front of it, but when the man turned around, he creased his brow. "Who're you?"

"Joe. Darryl hired me. It's my first day."

Heath rolled his eyes to himself.

"Did he, now?"

Brax sucked at communicating pertinent info, that wasn't new. Still, it irked him, more than he liked to admit to himself.

"Well, Joe. Let's check this thing out. We don't want your first day to end in a disaster…"

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Matt lingering by the door and turned to glare at the kid.

"What?"

"You still need me?" Matt pointed behind him. "It's fine if you do. I just gotta…"

"Yeah, just go. I'll text you later, see whether you even need to come in. Without the bloody stove we might not even be able to open today. - Crap! What a bloody mess. I'll have to call Brax, too…"

Matt nodded, then rushed out the door, leaving Heath with the new bloke and too much time and too little patience to deal with the broken equipment.

No, this really wasn't his morning…

…

The smell of coffee woke Denny, and with a smile, she stretched one last time in the comfy bed in their cute little place in the Bulgarian countryside before she made her way over to the small kitchen.

Her smile widened when she saw Casey sitting in one of the two wooden chairs, staring out the window, two pots of steaming coffee on the table before him.

"Hey babe…"

Denny slung her arms around Casey's neck from behind, ready to snuggle for a moment, the coffee smell tickling her nostrils seductively, but before she had a chance to thank him for it, she found herself getting tackled to the ground in a blur of movement.

Shocked and a little out of breath, she stared up at her equally shocked husband, who was standing above her, the muscles in his arms dancing as he pushed himself up.

"What the hell was that?" she managed as Casey moved to help her up, his expression one of true horror.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry. Denny, are you alright?"

Frowning, she nodded, taking his proffered hands and allowing him to pull her up.

"Are you, though? Alright, that is? I mean, that was some action movie stunt..."

He scoffed.

"I'm… I don't know what happened. You startled me."

His grin didn't reach his eyes, and she tilted her head, squinting at him.

"Startled you? Casey…"

"Don't say it, okay?" he suddenly said, raising his arms in defeat, turning away from her, shoulders sagging, and his whole defeated stance made her heart ache for him.

"It's not over, is it?" she asked softly, carefully inching closer to him until she could step in front of him. "Just like the nightmares…"

He hissed in air between his teeth, grimacing.

"You know about those?"

A mild smile crept onto her features, and she gently placed a hand against his cheek.

"I'm your wife, babe. We've spent a year touring the world now, spending almost every moment together. Do you honestly think you could keep it from me?"

"Denny…"

"I wanna help you, Casey. Please. Let me help you. - Or… how about we go back for a bit. It's probably time. To see your brothers. Kyle…"

He took a deep breath, shuddering on the exhale, and she took another step forward, her arms coming around him.

"I don't know. The boys are…"

"They need you too, babe."

He chuckled, the sound a little too lost and insincere for her liking, and she looked up into his face, detecting sadness there, and something else.

"I don't think I can go back there - even if I wanted to."

"What do you mean?"

Leaning his forehead against hers, he sighed, staying silent so long that she thought he wasn't going to answer anymore. But then he said,

"I thought I was over it, you know? The whole damn thing. But… they never even found the guy who took over from Jake and I… I keep seeing it in my head, how they're coming for all of us. For Brax, Heath, Kyle… for you, too. Denny…"

"Babe, that's-"

"Shhh," he made, shaking his head, placing a finger over her lips. "I know it's stupid. But… I can't. Not yet."

"Okay," she said, "okay. But promise me you'll at least talk to them, yeah? It's been a while."

Casey scoffed, waving her off.

"They've all moved on. The boys will think I'm a nutcase - and I can't blame them."

"Casey."

"No. I'm fine. I promise. It's just not my morning. I didn't drink my coffee yet. - Speaking of… you want some?" A grin was back on his face, almost sincere now, and she sighed, eyeing him carefully. He was trying to deflect, that much was obvious, she just wasn't sure she should let him.

"Call Kyle."

"It's the middle of the night over there. Plus, I think he's finally over it. I don't want to bring all this back to him. I'm good, okay? - Come on, let's have something to eat…"

He turned around, walking over to the fridge so quickly that she was a little flustered. When he turned around, balancing a carton of eggs and asking, "Omelettes?" with a big smile on his face, she sighed, finally giving in.

She'd try again later, though. He needed it. But for the moment, she'd allow him to pretend all was well.

…

Gnawing on his finger, Brax sat at the kitchen table, gaze blurring as he stared out the window.

The restaurant was in serious trouble, the books off, stove not working okay, Heath was on his case about feeling excluded in the big decisions. He hadn't heard from Casey in months. Andy had left a mess in the kitchen and was nowhere to be found. Baby Case was teething, Ricky understandably cranky after yet another sleepless night, and now Kyle was worrying him again, too, with his late-night panic attack and his "cold" - and it was simply all a bit much.

Nate had given the kid some medicine, had suggested he return to see the shrink, but Brax knew he wasn't going to do either unless he stayed on his case.

The sound of his phone ringing pulled him out of his thoughts and he stared at it for a second, Heath's name lighting up on the display.

With a sigh, he picked it up, ready for yet another lecture.

"What now?"

"Who the hell sent you?"

"What are you on about?"

Frowning, Brax waited for his brother to try and make sense of his words.

"Whoa, put that thing down."

Brax sat up straighter, instantly alert. He wanted to call his brother's name, but knew better. Something was seriously off, and whoever was with his brother couldn't be tipped off to the fact that Brax was listening.

"Hey Brax, can you hold Case for a-"

Whirling around, he put a hand up, stopping Ricky, who had just walked into the kitchen, mid-sentence. She shot him a glare, ready to snap at him, but then she must have seen something in his expression and her frown switched to a concerned one.

"What's going on?" she mouthed, but he shook his head, his hand still up in the air as he kept listening, more alarmed by the second.

"Put it down, mate. It's not worth it. - Alright, alright, I'm coming. - I said I'm coming. No need to-"

There was a harsh sound, then the line went dead all too abruptly and Brax could feel his heart beat all the way up to his throat.

"Brax. You're scaring me…"

He swallowed, turning to look at Ricky and the baby.

"They have Heath," he choked out, letting his hand drop finally, his stare boring into her.

"What? Who has him?"

"I don't bloody know. - Crap!" he hissed, punching the table with such force that he left a dent.

Someone had taken one of his brothers. It was starting all over again...