A/N: Wow! Thank you to all of you that reviewed! I am blown away by the volume of reviews I received on this first chapter. Here is the anticipated second chapter and you'll notice there is a bit of discombobulation. I intended there to be a bit of confusion present with this second chapter. I did try to clarify, but just in case any of you are confused...it was intended. The only thing is, if any of you readers are familiar with planes and notice things might be askew...just know that I have zero knowledge surrounding planes. I've never even flown before, so forgive any glaring errors concerning planes or mentions of plane related gear.

Now that we've gotten that cleared up...on with the story!


Alan gazed out the window, looking away from Virgil when he waved to the younger. He was still angry over being sent away to military school and he was convinced that he'd stay mad at his family for a long time coming.

"Wave good-bye to your brother." Frank said, trying to be playful to make Alan happy or get him to relax, but Alan remained stoic. "Tough crowd today."

Alan did see Virgil wave as the plane took off down the runway, but he couldn't let go of his hurt and anger long enough to wave to the only brother that voted in his favor. He looked down, feigning extreme interest in his sneakers and the grody plane floor. Once the plane lifted off, Alan gave a cursory glance around the plane and took in the fading stickers, the aged upholstery on the seats and he wrinkled his nose in distaste. Of course, his dad would rather send him in this heap of junk, as opposed to the style and comfort of Tracy One.

Once they'd gotten leveled out in the air, Frank told Alan that he was welcome to take off his seat belt for a few minutes. Alan ignored Frank's attempts to talk to him, pretending conveniently not to hear him. Every question Frank asked Alan about his favorite activities, movies, games and hobbies was pointedly ignored and after about an hour with what Alan estimated to be about one hundred questions, Frank finally quit asking questions. The next few hours passed by totally void of communication.

When Alan did feel like speaking, he remarked about the poor conditions of the plane.

"This plane is disgusting, you really need to consider trashing it and getting something better." Alan's nose stayed wrinkled as he detected a faint sour smell.

Frank chuckled at what Alan said but glanced over his shoulder to smile at Alan.

"I know I should probably retire ol'Betsy here, but she's my girl and she's going to keep flying with me until she can't anymore. Besides, you need money to get a new plane and that's something I don't have a lot of. I barely have the money to pay my storage fees at the airstrip." Frank couldn't help but to chuckle once more at what Alan said. He didn't take any offense to Alan's comment. He knew this plane had seen better years. But wear and tear was common when using his own personal plane as the training plane, air taxi and scenic flight tour plane. "Besides, I'm trying to keep her going until you learn to fly. What do you have, another year before I can take you up in the air and teach you to fly?"

"If I'm lucky, I'll learn to fly using a different plane. This thing is old, and I don't want to learn to fly using an old plane." Alan replied, glancing out the window at the land beneath them.

Frank and Alan had been in the air for no more than four hours when the plane started experiencing what pilot and passenger assumed to be turbulence. The cabin shook violently, making Alan brace himself against the wall of the plane and the armrest with his hands. The first time the plane shuddered could be ignored, but when it began audibly hiccupping and shaking the longer they stayed in the air, Alan grew more concerned. He felt his heart thumping in his chest and he directed his gaze at the pilot's quarters where Frank was flicking buttons.

"Frank what's going on?" Alan asked, speaking voluntarily once more since he'd boarded the plane. Something didn't feel right, and Alan knew it. The cabin was shaking too much and when he looked out the front windscreen, he could see the propeller stalling before it'd start spinning again. "Frank?!"

"I don't know Alan, she was working just fine this morning." Frank said as he checked the gauges and flipping switches to try to figure out the problem. Suddenly the propeller stopped completely, and an alarm started blaring in the cabin. "Damn. Come on, Betsy!"

Frank picked up the quick reference handbook and started following the steps as they were listed to attempt to jumpstart the engine. The more he had to troubleshoot, the louder the alarms seemed to get. Alan felt his heart clenching in his chest as he noticed once more that the propeller was failing to rotate. Soon all that Alan heard was the cacophony of blaring alarms, Frank's muttered expletives, his own racing pulse and nothing all at once. One glance out the little window next to him seemed to kick start his brain.

"Frank what's happening?!" Alan screamed as he gazed out the window to see that they were beginning to lose altitude.

"Just some technical difficulties!" Frank replied making Alan mutter under his breath.

"Thank you Captain Obvious." Alan felt his pocket, wishing now that he had his cell phone. He'd call his dad or one of his brothers to let them know their plane was going down, not that they'd have believed him come to think of it. His dad had confiscated his cell phone when the school he was going to specified that they would prefer students not have cell phones.

One more glance out the window told Alan that they were not only going down, but they were going down fast. He could do nothing to help Frank, he knew next to nothing about piloting a plane except for what he'd watched his dad and brothers do. He wasn't going to be able to get his learner's permit for both flying or driving until he was sixteen and he was a year away from that. And to top it off, they weren't just gliding…they were in a dive and the ground was coming up fast. If Frank, who was an experienced pilot for over 25 years was having difficulty, then how would Alan; an inexperienced teenage pilot wannabe be able to provide help to Frank?

When the flight started dropping lower, Alan found himself speechless. He thought back to the last time he'd interacted with his dad and brothers. He refused to hug Scott goodbye, he'd told Virgil that he'd hated them all…he'd called John and Gordon traitors when they'd begrudgingly agreed with their dad to send him off to military school and he scoffed at his dad when he'd told him he loved him. As the plane cabin gave another violent shake, Alan felt an icy cold hand grip his heart tight in his chest and he knew that if he survived this he'd be a better person. He wasn't ready to die.

"God, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for what I said. Please, God…let me live. I'll be better." Alan begged in a ragged whisper when he bowed his head, preparing for impact. The last time he'd looked out the window, the ground looked so much closer and Alan knew that impact would occur imminently. He didn't know what else he could ask for except to simply survive, just so he could apologize to his dad in person and tell his brothers he loved them one more time.

"Brace yourself Alan, we're going down!" Frank yelled over the alarm blaring in the plane as they'd reached a critical in loss of altitude. He tried to send a mayday over the radio, but he failed to get an immediate response.

When they got closer to the ground, a proximity alarm began sounding off. Soon Frank's voice mingled with a male voice warning "Too Low, Terrain, Pull Up" which looped to repeat after every cycle followed by a warning bell.

Alan clamped his eyes closed tightly, bracing himself as he curled up. He clasped his hands over the back of his head and started whispering a prayer his grandmother had taught him. "Though I walk in the shadow of the valley of death, no evil would I fear, for you are with me. Dad, I'm so sorry. Grandma, mom, watch over them all for me."

Anyone in the surrounding area if they'd seen the plane before it crashed, they'd have been screaming at the pilot to pull up for they were going down over a heavily wooded mountain range. Instead, nobody in the immediate location noticed the plane and so nobody saw when the plane dropped down, the tops of trees grazing into the bottom of the plane. Inside the cabin and cockpit however, Frank was trying to keep control of the plane to prevent it breaking apart or worse yet, bursting to flames. Thankfully he'd dropped the fuel he had to lighten their load, but it did nothing to slow their descent.

Alan was braced, knees to his chest as he felt the shaking of the plane grow more violent. He might have screamed but he couldn't hear anything beyond his racing pulse in his ears. If there was ever a time where he wished he could do things over, this was one of those moments; as the shaking of the plane was soon combined with the screeching of metal and the loud pops of breaking trees. Alan prayed that he survived and got a second chance. He would swear that during the events of the plane going down, that he saw his life flash before his eyes.

Unfortunately for Alan, the memories that stuck out the most were the things he'd done to defy his father or disobeying one of his older brother's orders. Such as taking Scott's car out after he'd strictly said no to taking Alan out for a spin in his new car. Alan waited for Scott to go to bed first, which the younger knew would happen. Scott followed the 'early to bed, early to rise' mantra religiously and he'd predictably been the first in their household to turn in, followed closely by each of his brothers. Alan pretended to turn in for bed and waited for his father to turn in as well. When his dad went to bed a little after eleven, Alan picked up his tennis shoes and snatched Scott's key before sneaking from their family dwelling to the garage downstairs. From there, Alan donned his tennis shoes and disabled the security lock before getting in the car and marveling at the bells and whistles associated with a new car.

He'd been excited with the thrill of taking his brother's car for a spin and he'd done what he'd seen his brothers and father do dozens of times. The thought that he didn't have a learner's permit nor a licensed driver in the car with him didn't occur to him until he accidently ran a red light. Fortunately, there hadn't been anybody else at the intersection. Unfortunately for him, a cop did see him run a red light and immediately pursued him. Alan in a panic got the accelerator and the brakes mixed up and gunned the engine, which also increasingly unfortunate caused Alan to speed through another intersection thankfully with a green light and into a corner mailbox, fire hydrant and lastly a stoplight.

The airbag deployed immediately, and Alan saw the red and blue lights behind him belatedly realizing that he'd wrecked his brother's new car. The police officer that tried to pull him over took him into custody immediately following the crash after Alan said he was fine. Scott got the call first since it was his car that had been stolen while their dad got the call that Alan was in custody. Scott had been stark raving mad over his new car, completely unsympathetic to his little brother having a developing black eye. Jeff on the other hand had refused to come to the police station, telling Alan that he'd gotten himself in this mess; he could afford to stay the night in jail.

It sucked, but now that Alan was reflecting on it all – he knew he was to blame for all of this. He wished he hadn't followed his naïve thought that he was invincible and that nothing would happen to him. Obviously, this was karma coming back to bite him in the ass and he hadn't anybody to blame but himself.

Alan was aware of the cabin shaking more, Frank was cursing a blue streak in the cockpit and Alan bringing his head up marginally to look out the main windscreen told Alan that not only were they seriously crashing their flight, but they were amongst the trees. Alan quickly brought his head back down, covering his head and trying to curl into a smaller ball so that he had hope of surviving. He'd hate it if his dad and brothers voted to send him away to military school for his own good and they wound up burying him like they'd originally stated was their greatest fear regarding Alan's recklessness.

… … … … … … … … … … …

Jeff drummed his fingers on his desk as he waited for his friend David to call to say that he'd retrieved Alan. It'd been almost fourteen hours since Alan left, and Jeff knew that Frank would stop periodically to give them time to refuel and stretch their legs. Frank didn't promise they'd call, but Jeff hoped they would, so he was waiting anxiously to hear from David that Alan had arrived safely. The estimated time that Frank provided told Jeff that he and Alan should have gotten there hours ago. But Jeff was giving them the benefit of the doubt that there were delays in travel time due to stopping to have a bite of lunch along the way or Alan giving Frank trouble.

He waited for another hour before he called David to find out why he hadn't called yet. Jeff knew David was going to keep Alan at his house over the weekend before he took him to the school to get him situated. When the phone call was answered, David answered with a question taking Jeff by surprise.

"Jeff, did Alan's flight leave as scheduled?"

"Yes, Virgil was the one to see his flight off and they left ahead of schedule. At least five minutes ahead." Jeff said, confused about what David was talking about.

"Well, Frank and Alan haven't arrived yet and Frank hasn't called me to say there's been a delay. I'm just wondering where they are." David said before he walked around the air space where he was supposed to meet Alan and Frank. "Have you heard from them?"

"No, I haven't heard from them since Virgil left here with Alan to drop him off with Frank. I don't know where they could be." Jeff commented, feeling dread settle in his stomach like a ten-ton boulder. "I thought you hadn't called because maybe you were experiencing trouble with Alan."

"No." David commented before he started pacing. "Why don't you call the air traffic controllers and see if they can get a lock on their location? There should be somebody that can recognize a Cessna 152 on the radar. Maybe they stopped to refuel and Alan's giving Frank trouble."

"That's my hope too David." Jeff replied before he hung up with David and went to call the airport that Frank flew out of to see if any of them had heard from Frank since he left. He'd like to believe that if Alan and Frank had had trouble with the plane that they'd have called him to report.

… … … … … … … … … … …

Ten hours earlier

Opening his eyes, Alan was aware of his body throbbing in time with his heart. He hoped it was just a bad dream. He was preparing himself to go out to the living room, sit at the table and laugh with his brothers over how stupid this nightmare had been. But his body hurt so much. Alan sobbed out a groan as he slowly sat up. He could taste copper in his mouth, knowing he'd either bit his lip, tongue or cheek and he spat a mouthful of blood that had accumulated in his mouth before he was pushing debris that fell on him with impact off to find Frank. He looked around to see the plane had indeed crashed. It wasn't a bad dream like he'd hoped, and Frank was sitting in the cockpit calling "mayday" over the radio trying to get a signal out. Frank turned his head painfully to look hard at Alan, despite their visibility being next to nothing when the younger groaned aloud again.

"Are you okay Alan?" Frank asked, glad both he and Alan had survived their descent and inevitable crash. He did wonder how they were going to get out of there. He didn't know where they were, and he hadn't been able to look at the compass before he'd lost all power to his dashboard.

"I think so…what about you?" Alan asked even as he felt like the tin-man from Wizard of Oz before getting his joints greased. He moved slowly and stiffly. Alan noticed he was shaking when he reached down to undo his safety belt. The next time he moved, Alan couldn't help but to hiss aloud at the pain. He felt like he'd been hit by a wrecking ball. He couldn't believe how sore he was. It hadn't been but maybe an hour since the initial plane wreck and already Alan's whole body was throbbing in time with his heartbeat.

"I'll live…but we're in trouble." Frank said before he released his safety harness, so he could stand, however that proved a challenge when he muttered under his breath and quickly sat back down.

"What's wrong?" Alan asked as he finally unbuckled his safety belt and slid from his seat, finding that except for some cuts, bumps and bruises, he was okay. The problem however was that Frank was hurt.

"I dislocated my shoulder and our radio is out." Frank said as he shook his head in the negative. "I couldn't get in touch with Air Traffic Control to let them know we were going down. As far as anyone is concerned, nobody knows we're out here." Frank said watching the look on Alan's face change rapidly from fear to desolation. "You don't happen to have your cell phone on you, do you?"

"No, dad took it away from me before we left. He said the school I was enrolled in frowned on cell phones, so he disconnected it for now." Alan said, anguish apparent. "What are we going to do?"

"I don't know Alan, best I can say is we stay put for now and hopefully help will arrive soon." Frank said before he leaned back in his seat.

"Okay." Alan didn't know what else he could say either. They were stuck for now and there was no way he could go out in search of help…especially since he didn't know where they were.

… … … … … … … … … … …

Jeff shuffled his feet nervously as he waited for someone from search and rescue to call him back. He'd reported his son and longtime friend missing after nearly twenty hours without contact. He'd already told Virgil and Gordon who were at home when he'd gotten a phone call from David. He'd called the air traffic control on his side and received news that the last known location of the Cessna 152 was Virginia. Jeff had called John and Scott who had gone out to a club with some friends and told them that Alan's flight was missing. He was waiting to hear back from them and he was also waiting to hear back from search and rescue. They were organizing a search party to begin looking for the two missing individuals.

Jeff was sick to his stomach with worry and he noticed Virgil and Gordon loitering near his office every time the phone rang. They like himself were waiting to hear that Alan and Frank had been found and that they were both okay, but something in the pit of Jeff's stomach told him that things were worse than believed. Now he wished he'd listened to Virgil when the middle son said he didn't agree with sending Alan to military school.

… … … … … … … … … … …

Alan shivered as he laid back to back with Frank against the floor of the plane. They'd been down for over twenty-three hours now and Alan wondered where they were. Judging by the woods, they were out in the middle of nowhere and Alan didn't know in what state or county or district they were lost in. Alan, through Frank's instruction had to push hard on Frank's shoulder to pop the dislocated joint back in its socket. Suffice it to say Alan was squeamish, and he'd felt sick to his stomach after completing that task.

Frank had been a good sport about it and he'd instructed Alan step by step until it was time to wrap his shoulder to control the swelling. Alan helped Frank unbutton his shirt, so he could stick his arm in across his chest so that his arm was supported by a crude sling instead of hanging limply by his side. After night fell, Alan and Frank were forced to turn in due to lack of light. The flashlight they had was somewhere in the plane but with how sore Alan and Frank were from the crash, neither really felt compelled to look for it.

The two of them had settled in for the night, Frank advising Alan to sleep closer to him to conserve body heat. The plan according to Frank had been to take a closer look at the antennae come first light and the black box to see if it was transmitting their location. They had only settled a few hours ago and it wasn't what Alan wanted to do again anytime soon. He was cold, hungry and he couldn't sleep worth a tinker's toot.

Frank groaned in his sleep, making Alan stir from his light slumber to check on him. Grabbing their first aid kit, Alan tipped a couple ibuprofen into his hand before he shook Frank to wake him for his dose of pain medications. It was the best they had until they could get rescued. Once Frank had taken the pain medications that Alan supplied him with, they both laid back down and tried to sleep.

Too soon for his liking, the sun was up, and Alan and Frank were woken up by a wild bird morning song. Both sat up stiffly, and Alan stood after a couple good stretches. He lifted his shirt when he felt his muscle pull across his stomach and gasped at the belt burn from his safety belt. Figuring a belt burn came with the experience, Alan dropped his shirt back in place without saying anything to Frank about it. He helped Frank up and together they stepped out of the Cessna and surveyed their surroundings. There wasn't a house or any sound of a highway for possibly miles.

"Well, I don't think we're in Kansas anymore Toto." Alan commented to Frank who gave him a look that told him he didn't appreciate the humor of their situation. Alan didn't bat an eye at the poorly timed joke, simply waited for Frank's instruction on how to proceed.

"Okay Alan, first things first…we need to try to rustle up some grub." Frank said before he wandered over to a bush to look for any vegetation that could reasonably be considered food. Deciding he'd best look for food also, Alan told Frank he was going for a walk before he wandered into the woods behind the downed plane. While he was gone, Alan figured he'd answer the call of nature and found a small copse of trees to use for cover. When he'd finished, Alan resumed his walk and went about checking trees, bushes, turning logs over in hopes that he'd find some bugs at least. It wasn't what he'd figure a satisfying meal to be, but one couldn't afford to be picky when food wasn't readily available. When he failed to find anything that could be deemed as edible, Alan turned around and returned to Frank.

"I couldn't find anything that was edible." Alan said before he sat down with his back against the plane.

"That's okay, I just found some rations that I forgot I packed that we can eat. It's not much, but it'll keep us going for the time being. It won't last us forever, but it'll keep us from going hungry." Frank said before he passed some prepackaged food to the younger boy. Alan saw eight packages of dried ramen. Alan grimaced at the dried noodles from the ramen pack Frank handed to him. They didn't have any way to boil water, so Alan ate the dry noodles as they were and he made a face at the taste of unflavored ramen. After chewing the crunchy noodles to the best of his ability, Alan got up to walk around some more. "Once I'm done eating, we should see what we can do to fix the antennae, so we can get a signal out."

"Yes Frank." Alan said softly before he did a walk around of the plane to assess the damage. They were resting on a ton of foliage that had been ripped from the trees in the surrounding area during their crash landing. If nothing else, Alan figured he could take some of the foliage and start a fire which they could use to signal a plane, though with the tree cover the chances of a plane flying overhead and noticing the fire were unlikely. The next few hours consisted of Frank instructing Alan on how to dismantle the dashboard to check the connections as well as the nosecone of the plane. The hours flitted by quickly until the sun began to lower in the sky. Alan tried to ignore the nippy bite to the air. His fingers were numb as were his ears and nose. He realized with a quick glance at Frank how improperly dressed he was for the weather. He'd dressed for California weather knowing that'd be his destination. It'd been unusually cold on the Eastern Seaboard and Alan was seriously regretting shrugging his father's suggestion that he wear at least a windbreaker for the flight. That would have provided at least some cover for Alan during the night and now he was regretting his stupid stubborn pride.