Jameson stepped on the acceleration pedal, speeding up even more.

    He was at the race track. If his brothers knew, they would forbid him from even getting into the driver's seat in the state he was in at the moment.

    But this was the first thing he could think of when he wanted to escape. To escape from Avery, to escape from Grayson, to escape from what his grandfather had done.

    He kept going faster and faster. There was no one to stop him. He was the only person at the racetrack.

    His grandfather knew what he was doing. He wanted him to never forget what happened, what he had done. All over the house, his grandfather had written those numbers, that date, to ensure he never forgot.

    Lost in thought, and with the speed he was going, he wasn't paying attention and skidded on a wet patch on the track, losing control of the steering, crashing into the barriers and flipping over.

    Jameson felt excruciating pain all over, his vision was going blurry, and he felt like he couldn't move. His head was pounding with all the blood rushing to it.

   Unable to reach for his phone or the emergency button on the dashboard, he was stuck, with no way out.

    Drip. Drip. Drip.

   Shifting his head as much as he could, the movement making him yelp in pain, his eyes found the source of the noise. It was his own blood dripping onto what was the ceiling of the car.

    He couldn't keep his eyes open any longer and soon he was plunged into pitch-black darkness.

* * *

      "Jameson?"

   Avery waited before she knocked on the door again. "Jameson, please! I need to tell you something," She pleaded.

    No answer.

Checking the door, she found it open and pushed.

     The room was empty.

   Her next target would have been his bedroom if she knew where his bedroom was.

     She instead tried as many rooms as she could, libraries, living room, even the armoury, and there was no sign of Jameson. Feeling defeated, she instead sought out Grayson.

      The second oldest Hawthorne was in his office.

   "Grayson, I found something, the date wasn't the answer," Avery said.

     "Avery, you don't know when to quit, do you," Grayson sighed, "the date is the answer, that's it."

     "It isn't," Avery shook her head, "listen I found -"

    "Avery, the date was - is the answer," Grayson felt a lump in his throat, "there's nothing else. That's the end."

     Avery realised she wasn't going to get through to Grayson, so she went and found Nash.

 The oldest Hawthorne was in one of the kitchens.

    "I see something happened between you and my two younger brothers," Nash commented, leaning against the kitchen island.

     "We found all four numbers," Avery took in a deep breath, "Last night, we found the last one."

  Nash kept quiet, waiting for her to continue.

      "It's my birthday day," Avery said, "And Emily's death date."

   Nash sucked in a sharp breath.

      "I thought the date was the answer, the answer to why I was chosen," Avery said, "but then I found something earlier and the date is not the end."

     "I doubt either of my brothers would want to see you at the moment," Nash sighed, pushing himself off the table. "Grayson has shut himself in his room, and my guesses are that Jameson has hidden himself in a room with some wine."

     "I've already seen Grayson, and he won't do anything, he won't listen," Avery paused, "And I can't find Jameson."

     Nash frowned. "What do you mean you can't find him?" He asked.

     "I mean, he's not in the solarium or any of the libraries, he's not in the bowling alley, he's not in either of the theatres, he's not in the armoury, he's nowhere!" Avery said, frustrated.

     Nash didn't say anything and instead left the kitchen.

Avery, not knowing what else to do, followed him.

     He led her back to Grayson's office.

   Nash entered without bothering to knock. His younger brother was burying himself in a mountain load of work.

     "Avery, there's no point trying to convince me," Grayson started.

  "Grayson," Nash interrupted him, "have you seen Jameson anywhere? Like, at all since last night?"

      Grayson, startled, looked up.

"No, I haven't," He shook his head, frowning, "Can you not find him?"

     "Avery has more or less searched the whole place from top to bottom and she can't find him anywhere," Nash explained.

      This caught the younger one's attention and he stood up abruptly from his desk. Grayson walked over to a phone on a nearby lamp table and dialled a number.

     "Jamie, if you can hear me, answer the phone," Grayson said.

"Mr Hawthorne is not in the kitchen, sir," Mrs Laughlin answered after a pause.

     "Jamie? Answer me," Grayson repeated.

  No answer.

     "Jameson," Grayson began tapping his finger on the table, "This isn't funny, stop ignoring me."

     Nothing.

 Nash began to pace slightly, looking at Grayson from time to time.

     "Jameson Hawthorne, if you're in the house or the garage, answer the phone!" Grayson demanded, "Forget about last night, just answer the phone!"

     "Is everything alright?" Libby had picked up one of the phones.

    "Libby! Have you seen Jameson at all this morning?" Nash nearly pushed Grayson away to speak to her.

     "Um, no, I haven't," Libby said, "Is everything alright?" She asked again.

   "We can't seem to find or get a hold of Jameson," Nash sighed.

   "That boy is always causing trouble wherever he goes." A voice sneered. Zara had picked up a phone.

     "With all due respect, Aunt Zara, shut up and be quiet," Nash said calmly.

    "Jameson Winchester Hawthorne, if you can hear me, stop ignoring me and answer the phone!" Grayson growled.

   "I haven't seen him since he went into the garage late last night," The youngest Hawthorne piped up.

     "What?" Nash asked.

 "I saw Jameson enter the garage last night," Xander said, "I haven't seen him since."

      Grayson slammed the phone down and ran, Nash, Avery and Oren hot on his heels.

  Grayson threw the door to the garage open and began to look around.

      "His car..." Nash said slowly.

  Grayson ran to his side.

      One of Jameson's sports cars was gone.

  "Race track," Grayson breathed, running to another car.

       "What's going on?" Avery asked.

   "Jameson's at the race track," Nash explained, hopping into the passenger seat while Oren jumped behind the wheel.

      The race track?

  When they arrived, they didn't even bother parking properly as they ran in.

      "Mr Hawthorne, sirs!" A guy, obviously the janitor, looked up in alarm.

  "Have you seen Jameson anywhere?" Nash asked.

      "I've only just arrived, sir," The janitor looked apologetic, "I wouldn't know."

    Without waiting any longer, Grayson dashed past and ran towards the arena, the others hot on his heels.

     Avery stopped short.

  A car was lying on its roof on the other side of the track.

      Oren immediately whipped his phone out and began calling various people.

  Nash and Grayson were sprinting towards the car.

     As Avery followed them, she could see the extent of the damage.

    Most of the windows, especially the windscreen, were shattered, littering the ground with sparkling shards. The front of the car was smashed in.

     Grayson yanked at the car's door. It easily gave way.

   "Jamie..." Grayson gasped.

      Nash bent down and tried to unbuckle his younger brother from his seat, which was difficult as he was upside down.

     "Gray, hold him for me," Nash choked, "His seatbelt is jammed."

    Grayson bent down and gripped his younger brother gently while Nash sawed at the seatbelt with a pocket knife.

     "An ambulance will be here shortly," Oren said, "Alisa will be here soon with Libby and Xander."

    "Jameson," Avery breathed as the two brothers hauled their brother out to lie on the tarmac a little bit away from the car.

    Jameson had blood all over his face and hair, and it was dripping down his arms. He was unconscious and deathly pale.

      "Is he... is he breathing?" Avery whispered.

    "His pulse is very faint, who knows how long he's been like this for," Grayson murmured, "He feels cold... Nash, his skin is cold." He choked out.

    The sound of footsteps caught their attention and Alisa appeared with Xander and Libby in tow.

    "Jameson!" Xander exclaimed in alarm, bolting towards his older brothers.

    Libby gasped, her eyes welling up at the scene in front of her. "Oh my gosh..." She whispered, hands flying up to her mouth."

     "The ambulance has just arrived," Alisa informed them.

   "Jameson, Jamie please wake up," Grayson pleaded. "I'm so sorry," He mumbled, "I'm so, so sorry... please, please, please wake up."

     "Sir, please move," A paramedic seemed to have appeared out of nowhere.

   Grayson nearly protested, not wanting to let him go, but decided that the paramedics would be helping, not causing him harm.

      The paramedics immediately jumped into action, placing an oxygen mask over Jameson's face and putting on a neck brace.

     "Bring over the stretcher!" A paramedic yelled.

    Avery watched as the janitor opened up the gates to allow the ambulance to drive onto the track.

     Libby stepped over to Nash's side, placing a comforting hand on his arm. "He'll be all right," She whispered, "He's in good hands now. He'll be fine."

       Nash just nodded, numbly.

    "Mr Hawthorne, one person has to go with your brother in the ambulance, who will it be?" The paramedic inquired, addressing Nash.

     Nash took one look around the group and didn't need to think twice before making a decision.

      "Grayson will go," He said, "The rest of us will follow in the car."

   Grayson shot a grateful look towards him before hopping into the back of the ambulance.

      "Let's go," Oren said, leading the way towards the car.

  Nash and Xander took one last look at the departing ambulance before following.

* * *

      Grayson just stared at the still form lying on the hospital bed.

    He had been unnervingly close to losing a brother yesterday. The paramedics had said that if they hadn't found him when they did, about an hour too late and Jameson would have been gone.

    Grayson reached over and brushed a loose strand of hair away from Jameson's face. His younger brother's head was wrapped with bandages, and his left wrist was in a cast. He was still wearing a neck brace.

     The door to the private room opened slowly and in walked Nash and Avery.

    "He's not awake yet?" Avery asked, or more likely, stated as she sat down in one of the seats on the other side of the bed.

      Grayson just shook his head in response. Instead, he asked, "Where's Xan?"

    "Back at the house," Nash replied quietly, "He didn't sleep at all last night, so I told him to stay behind. I'm guessing that you haven't slept at all either."

       Again, Grayson shook his head.

    "Gray, you need to rest," Nash sighed, murmuring as he laid a hand on his shoulder, "You haven't slept since the night before last."

     "I-I can't," Grayson felt a lump in his throat, "I can't leave him."

     "Gray, he's not going anywhere," Nash said gently, "He's fine, he's alive. Avery and I will stay with him. Go home and get some rest."

      Grayson shook his head. 

   "Gray, you need to rest, freshen up," Nash sighed, "You look like a corpse."

      Grayson flinched at the word 'corpse' and quickly turned to look back at his Jameson.

  "Grayson," Nash said more firmly, but still gentle, "He's fine. He won't be going anywhere, Avery and I will stay to keep an eye on him. He's in good hands, I promise."

    Grayson hesitated, taking one last look at his younger brother. He then nodded. "Okay, okay..." He sighed.

     "Alisa is waiting with the car to take you home," Nash said, handing Grayson the suit jacket that he had discarded to the side.

     Grayson left, leaving Nash and Avery in the room.

"Grayson and Jameson..." Avery looked at the oldest Hawthorne brother.

     "Have their differences," Nash knew what she was trying to ask, "but they care for each other. It's normal for siblings to butt heads, but still look out for each other."

     Avery looked down at Jameson's still form.

    "What happened between the two of them and Emily..." Nash shook his head, "it drove something between them. Each blamed themselves for her death."

     Avery nodded. She knew about that.

    "Grayson has always been taught to put family first," Nash continued, "Despite being a workaholic, he would drop anything and everything for one of us. So despite what's happened, both in the past and recently, Grayson cares too much."

     Avery could understand that. In fact, she's seen it first hand. Grayson's protectiveness over his brothers, wanting them to stay safe, trying to keep them away from anything or anyone that could hurt them.

    "Gray is shaken up at the moment. We nearly lost Jamie, and I have a feeling that he is blaming himself," Nash said, "If we had been too late, if we had lost Jamie... I don't know what Grayson would do."

    Avery stayed silently. She didn't know what to say. She had never seen Grayson lose his composure like this and that was saying something. To her, she had always seen how Grayson handled things, how he always kept his cool in all circumstance. 

     And then, before her eyes, she had witnessed Grayson break down.

  Break down at the thought of losing his brother. 

* * *

     Four days later and Jameson still hadn't woken up yet. When news reporters found out that Avery was making visits to the hospital, it wasn't too long before newspapers and tabloids bore the news that one Hawthorne brother was in the hospital and even less time for them to figure out which one.

      They were taking it in turns sitting with Jameson in his private room. Mainly so that they could get Grayson to take a break now and then and to go home and rest. 

       It was Grayson's turn again today.

    He shut the television off in annoyance. He turned his head to look at Jameson.

  "Is this your way of punishing me?" Grayson mumbled.

     Jameson just lay there, the same as how he had been for the last six days.

    "I guarantee you, once you've woken up and have healed properly, I'm going to kick your ass for making me go through this," Grayson chuckled dryly, shaking his head.

     The silence in the room was deafening. What Grayson wouldn't give to hear his younger brother's voice annoy him. 

       The tablet on his lap displayed another tabloid about how Jameson was in the hospital, coming up with a number of conspiracies about what happened. 

     Grayson frowned at it. 

   The things news reporters and journalists came up with to gain attention was just ridiculous. 

      "G-Gray...?" A voice croaked out.

Grayson's head snapped up. Jameson's half-lidded eyes met his.

     "Jamie," Grayson breathed, "Jamie, you're actually awake."

   "H-Hawthorne men have nine l-lives, don't they," Jameson attempted to grin, "You can't g-get rid of me that easily."

     Grayson made a choking noise as he got up and sat on the bed, pulling his younger brother into a hug.

  "I'm so sorry," Grayson mumbled, "I'm so, so sorry, for everything."

     Jameson weakly hugged his older brother back.

    "Why could you not have been more careful? Why did you go to the race track that night, of all the things you could have done..." Grayson hugged him tighter, as if letting go was going to cause Jameson to return to a coma.

     "I'm sorry," Jameson mumbled, "I skidded on a wet patch and lost control of the steering."

"Oh Jamie," Grayson sighed, "what am I going to do with you?"

      Jameson just smiled as he leaned his head against his older brother's shoulder.

  "We nearly lost you," Grayson choked out, "An hour too late and we would have lost you."

      "Like I said, you can't get rid of me that easily," Jameson chuckled before falling into a coughing fit. 

     Grayson reached over to the bedside table and poured a glass of water. 

   "Drink," He instructed, holding the glass up for Jameson. 

  Jameson rolled his eyes. "Can I have the normal Grayson back?" He asked, "Worried, having-a-mental-breakdown, uncomposed Grayson is scary." He grinned.

    Grayson scowled. "If you weren't injured I would whack you on the back of your head," He threatened playfully, pulling Jameson into another hug. 

    "Huggy Grayson is scary too," Jameson murmured, to which the other rolled his eyes, smiling slightly. 

   At that point that Nash, Xander, Libby and Avery arrived, entering the room.

      "Jameson!" Xander and Nash rushed to the side of the bed.

   Grayson let Jameson go, only for the latter to be engulfed in another hug by the oldest Hawthorne. 

       "You reckless idiot," Nash murmured, "never do that ever again or I'll kick your ass."

    "Sorry," Jameson said, sheepishly. 

         "Are you all right?" Xander asked, perching on the end of the bed.

     "Good as new," Jameson grinned.

         Avery snorted. 

     "Good morning, Heiress," Jameson looked at her once Nash released him. 

    "You'll be the death of your brothers one day," Avery shook her head, amused. 

          "You can say that again," Grayson ran a hand through his hair, "I'm sleep deprived because of you."

      "I'm going to have grey hairs before I'm even thirty, because of the three of you" Nash shook his head.

    Avery watched with a smile as the four brothers began to banter and argue playfully.

  Everything was fine. For now.

* * *