"There you go bud. Did you need anything else?" John gently scratched Alan's scalp.
"No, but thanks Johnny." Alan replied softly, waiting until John gave him his space to write to his previous foster parents. He missed them, but he stayed in contact with them. They traded weekly emails and occasional phone calls with each other over this past month. John would occasionally send emails to the Woods family also giving updates on Alan.
"Okay, please be sure to log me out when you're done writing to Pastor and Mrs. Woods, I don't want Gordo to be able to hack into my account." John squeezed Alan's shoulder and smiled down at the younger boy.
"Sure thing Johnny." Alan nodded at John before turning back to the computer.
Nodding to himself, John stepped out of his bedroom; leaving Alan sitting in front of his laptop. Pulling his door shut, he came literally face to face with Virgil. The teenager had his arms crossed over his chest and a single eyebrow rose in question at his older brother.
"So…how did the talk with Scott and Gordo go?" Virgil was perceptive. He knew that by seeing John as calm as he was now than when he'd left earlier practically with steam pouring out of his ears that John had found a way to release said frustration. How he'd successfully gotten rid of the anger enough for Alan to not be able to sense it was impressive. Either Virgil didn't know John very well or John had in fact laid it on his older and younger brothers about how angry he was and hurt that the two brothers could so easily forget Alan's presence.
"Good, I think we've come to an understanding." John replied softly. Turning back to look at his closed bedroom door, John gestured with his head for Virgil to follow him – away from the bedroom door where Alan could possibly hear.
Virgil nodded before leading John a couple doors down to his own bedroom. The two brothers stepped just in the door and pulled it to in order to talk in privacy.
… … … … … … …
Alan sat in front of the laptop and he started off his customary email message to his previous foster parents.
To Pastor and Ms. Woods,
Hi, it's just me again. Wanted to let you know how I'm doing.
I'm doing okay, I miss seeing you all. My dad and brothers are cool. I went to the doctor the other day for one of my follow-up appointments, doctor told me I'm good. I like her okay, but I liked the doctor Sir had for me more, he was funny.
I ran away earlier today. I upset one of my brothers and he left and my oldest brother ran after him, leaving me alone on a hill that I was unable to get down from on my own. I thought I could get home on my own by following a small trail and got lost in the jungle. I think I got Scott and Gordon in trouble, I didn't mean it I swear.
I miss you guys. I want to come visit, but I don't know when I'd be able to.
Love you all
Alan
Reading through the email, Alan shook his head before deleting a line or two and retyping the sentence to fit more what he really felt. Smiling sadly, Alan hit the send button and waited for the little ding to sound off before he logged off his brother's laptop and closing the lid. Standing on unsteady feet, Alan took a step onto his bad ankle and felt his leg give. Tumbling to the floor, Alan groaned. His chin hurt, so did his tongue. Pushing up to sit on his knees, Alan drew his arm over his mouth. Taking a quick glance down at his arm, he panicked slightly at seeing there was a smear of blood. Wiping his arm on the underside of his t-shirt, Alan stood up before hobbling towards the door slowly.
Reaching the door, Alan heaved a sigh. He felt exhausted, not hungry like he had been earlier when he'd been lost in the jungle. Deciding dinner could wait, Alan shuffled across the hall and into his own bedroom. Closing the door quietly, Alan returned to his bed and clambered up inside. Pulling the blankets up over his shoulders, Alan didn't even bother turning out the lights. Alan was soon fast asleep.
Almost a half hour passed before a quiet knock sounded on the door. The door swung open slowly with a creek and a blonde head poked into the room, followed by a brown haired individual.
"Alan? Psst! Are you awake?" John whispered from the door.
Alan didn't stir, he gave a snort to signify that he stirred in his sleep but nothing else. John crept forward, closely followed by Virgil until both brothers stood beside Alan's bed like they'd been doing the hours prior.
"They're so cute when they're sleeping." Virgil commented as he reached out tentatively and brushed a lock of sandy blonde hair from Alan's face. Alan slept on, his mouth open slightly as he snored softly. His face was relaxed in his sleep and Alan hugged a body pillow John had given him from his own bed. Alan felt the need to cuddle sometimes in his sleep and if he didn't have anyone or anything to cuddle with he'd usually awaken and remain awake until exhaustion took home the trophy. Thus the reason John gave Alan his favorite body pillow.
John would admit it, he was cuddly in his sleep too. His dad and brothers could attest to that from watching him grow up. If something soft and squishy came within range, John could usually sense it and if he was having a restless night sleep, he'd usually latch onto that soft and squishy thing whether that be his dad, brothers, slipper or pillow and cuddle.
John grabbed the blankets and pulled them up from Alan's waist to meet his shoulders. Leaning down, John brushed a soft kiss across Alan's forehead before pulling away and practically dragging Virgil with him. The two older brothers crept from Alan's bedroom and pulled the door closed, John turned the lights down slightly so that Alan's room was still illuminated but not so bright that it'd disturb his sleep.
"That was your pillow wasn't it John?" Virgil inquired, he hadn't been made aware that John had given up his pillow to his baby brother.
"Yeah, but it's Alan's pillow now." John replied as he returned to his own bedroom.
"Why is it Alan's pillow now?" Virgil tilted his head in question.
"Because it is." John didn't want to go into detail that he'd given Alan his body pillow to make adjusting to life on Tracy Island easier, especially those rare times that John went out on a rescue close to or during Alan's bedtime and wouldn't be able to tuck Alan in or give him a hug goodnight.
"Did Alan just snitch it from your bed?" Virgil was genuinely curious, John was usually very possessive of his things – including his pillows.
"No, I gave it to him. He was having trouble sleeping so he came to my room. I let him sleep in my bed and he took the pillow almost immediately and snuggled with it until the next morning. I figured if the pillow brought him enough comfort to sleep through the night that it'd be worth it to part with it." John stated. He didn't comment that the body pillow kept away the nightmares for the most part, but John knew they did. He assumed it was because the pillow smelled like him and Alan had commented once when he was running the fever in the hospital after the landslide that he thought John smelled nice. He'd heard theories that comfort items – things that reminded somebody of a smell or person often brought comfort, John's body pillow must have done that for Alan. Lord knows John had that pillow since he was Gordon's age.
Virgil nodded his head slowly as if in agreement. "So how have you been sleeping since you don't have your favorite pillow anymore?"
"I've been sleeping fine. Besides, I can get a new one." John turned in his doorway to look at Virgil. "Listen, I appreciate all that you did for me today, helping me look for Alan and helping me doctor him up; but I should probably be heading to bed myself. I'm exhausted."
"Okay grandpa Tracy, have a good sleep." Virgil winked at John teasingly.
"Hardy har har Virge. I'll show you grandpa Tracy, but maybe another time." John shook his head slowly before stepping behind his door and pulling it closed. "Night."
Virgil stood in the hall and waited a few moments before he turned to walk down to the living room. Despite it having been a busy day - an extremely busy day, Virgil wasn't tired just quite yet. Glancing quickly at his watch, Virgil sighed softly to himself. It wasn't even nine in the evening yet.
… … … … … … …
"Where is that damn boy?" Holding his breath, Alan leaned back against the wall in the hidden closet. His new daddy came home smelling like an alcohol distillery and little Alan could smell it from where he'd hidden in Devon's trick closet door. "Damn it! I said where is he?!"
"Hidden, not that you'll ever find him!"
"What'd you say to me boy?!" The deep timbre of the voice sent chills up little Alan's spine.
"I said, he's hidden! You aren't going to find him!"
'Devon, please don't make daddy mad anymore!' Little Alan pulled his knees to his chest. He could feel his heart racing in his chest and it was pounding hard enough to make little Alan's chest hurt.
"Well you'd better bring the little bastard out of hiding! He needs his medicine." The 'snick' of leather made itself known and little Alan stifled a sob. He hated getting his medicine. It consisted of being hit twenty times with his daddy's belt, while Devon was made to watch. When little Alan finished receiving his medicine, then it was Devon's turn. Only Devon was required to receive five more than Alan.
How did Alan know how many times he and Devon were smacked with their daddy's belt? Simple…Ray made them count aloud. If they messed up in counting, they'd need to start all over again until they reached twenty, however that was a problem for little Alan because he kept getting numbers mixed up because the highest he'd ever learned to count was to six.
"Never! You aren't going to lay another hand on him! He's not some target for target practice!" Devon defended Alan for he knew where Alan was hidden. He was the one who told Alan to hide when he heard the drunk ramblings of their new daddy as he made his way up the footpath to their front door. Their new mommy had gone out with another guy while Ray was gone and hadn't returned yet – leaving Alan and Devon alone.
"Bring him out NOW!" Ray bellowed.
"NO!" Devon matched Ray's bellow with one of his own and he guarded his closet. Despite his obvious protective stance in front of the closet door, Ray was so unbelievably drunk he could barely stand on his own two feet. How he managed to drive back from the bar without killing someone, himself, driving off the road or getting lost was an unfortunate miracle. Devon had been preparing to take Alan and scamper off into the night when Ray arrived back home.
"Damn it boy! Move!" Ray physically shoved Devon away having figured out where Alan was hiding despite his being so intoxicated. A loud thump made Alan jump and he pressed himself back further into the corner, trying to hide and wish himself invisible.
The door to the closet opened and there was Ray. His alcohol glazed eyes stared dangerously down at Alan who was curled tightly in a ball. Reaching out, Ray tangled his fingers in Alan's hair and yanked the boy up from the floor. Alan yelped and reached up to try to relieve the sharp pain from his scalp, but gave another yelp of pain as Ray tightened his grip and shook Alan's head in order to get his message across to the five year old.
"I'm sorry daddy! I'm sorry! I'll be good!" Alan cried out as he begged his new daddy to spare him his nightly medicine.
"No!" Ray unceremoniously threw Alan onto the floor before he raised the fist which had the belt wrapped tightly around his fist. Bringing his arm down, quick and like a striking snake Ray heard the satisfying sound of his belt connecting with little Alan's back.
Alan bit his tongue so as to not scream. Instead he tried to begin counting.
"One…t-two…t-t-three!" Alan's voice was soft, but it broke after each hit.
"I can't hear you! Start over!" Ray brought down another hit and this time Alan yelled as he counted.
"One! T-two!" Alan balled up his fists and tried to stop the tears from streaming down his face as he was hit several more times. He'd had to restart counting three more times when he'd gotten twelve and fourteen mixed up. When Ray finished giving Alan his medicine, he left the boy to lie on the floor. Turning away from Devon, he ran his belt back through the loops in his jeans.
"Wait, what about my medicine?" Devon inquired as Ray turned to leave.
"Alan got your dose. Clean him up and if the neighbors come by let them know he was just throwing a tantrum about his bedtime." Ray had sobered surprisingly fast, no doubt having used the alcohol as fuel to abuse the kids. Slamming the door, Devon was left kneeling on the floor beside Alan's beaten body. Glaring out his window, Devon watched as Ray climbed back into the cab of his truck, no doubt off in search for Judy.
"Alan?" Devon spoke in a hushed voice to the beaten boy. The five year old didn't respond. "Come on buddy, talk to me? Please?"
"I want to go home." Alan whimpered as he tried to move, but screamed out as pain lanced through his back.
"I know you do kiddo. I do to." Devon retrieved a pair of scissors and cut through the fabric of Alan's tee-shirt. There were rips in the fabric in places that received more abuse than others from Ray's belt. Devon hissed as he peeled Alan's tee-shirt from his body. There was a crisscross pattern of belt markings. Scabs from past beatings had opened, new ones had formed.
Doctoring up the beat markings to the best of his ability, Devon tucked Alan into bed. Alan was forced to sleep on his stomach, despite him being a back and side sleeper. Devon cleaned up the medical supplies and put everything away. If Alan wasn't in so much pain, Devon might just take him and flee into the night…but just moving Alan from the floor to the bed had put Alan in extreme agony and it took Devon almost an hour to get Alan to go to sleep.
"I'm so sorry kiddo…someday I'll get you out of here. I promise." Devon lay beside Alan and snuggled the boy close, whist being mindful of the boy's injuries.'
… … … … … … …
Gordon made his way through the hall as he was making his way to his own bedroom. He was still kicking himself. He hadn't been mad at Alan. Jealous, maybe that Alan and Scott seemed to be having such fun together, but he wasn't mad. Gordon came to a screeching halt as he heard a choked sob.
Looking around, Gordon tried to pinpoint where the sob had come from.
Another sob, louder this time attracted Gordon's attention to Alan's bedroom. The big brother instincts came alive and he wanted to know what exactly was wrong with his little brother. Why he was crying? Stepping lightly, Gordon opened Alan's bedroom door and peeked in at his little brother. Alan was twisted around in his blankets, his face was sweat slicked and Gordon instantly felt like he was in over his head. Leaving Alan's bedroom door opened, Gordon hurriedly entered John's room without knocking and strode over to awaken his older brother.
A distressed Alan was more John's forte and Gordon knew that Alan might not take kindly to having someone who was not John handling him.
"John…John wake up!" Gordon shook John's shoulder desperately.
"Hmm? Wha…?" John came awake instantly. He was the type that woke almost instantly the moment he was touched by anyone and Gordon continually shook John's shoulder.
"Alan's crying and having a nightmare. I don't know what to do." Gordon didn't bother whispering since he wasn't likely to bother anyone. Virgil, Scott and their dad were all still awake leaving John and Alan to be asleep and Gordon was heading to bed when his dad told him it was time to go to sleep.
"What?" John came awake instantly and he threw his blankets away as he scrambled out of bed. Gordon followed John across the hall and into Alan's bedroom. John slowed his pace before reaching Alan and he sank slowly onto the boy's bed. "Hey, hey…wake up Alan."
Alan gave another sob and Gordon watched with heartbroken eyes as Alan's chest heaved with his sob.
"Come on kiddo, wake up. It's okay…ssh." John murmured quietly and he rubbed Alan's back gently but jerked away when Alan cried out. "Hey buddy, it's just me…it's Johnny. Come on kiddo wake up."
Alan began to stir and his eyes opened ever so slightly and he gazed at John through the tears welling in his eyes.
"What's the matter buddy?" John leaned in close to whisper to his little brother.
"My back hurts." Tears trailed down Alan's cheek as he stuck his bottom lip out.
"Do you mind if I take a look?" John inquired softly, but took Alan's shake of the head as permission to lift Alan's tee-shirt and take a look at his back.
Gordon felt sick at what he saw when John lifted Alan's shirt up. There were marks littering Alan's back and there wasn't an untouched place on the pale skin that didn't have nicks here and there.
"Does this feel better kiddo?" John gently rubbed his hand over the marks and scars on Alan's back and noticed his little brother relax some.
Alan sighed. His back was starting to feel better. Ms. Woods used to rub lotion on his back whenever he felt the white hot pain of the belt connecting with his back. At all his other foster homes, he was just told to deal with it and he'd begun to suck his thumb whenever the pain got really bad. It was his way of not crying out, to occupy his mouth and mind with something that didn't involve crying. He'd often get yelled at by his other foster parents whenever he cried around them, so he learned to suck it up…but Pastor and Ms. Woods, even John told him it wasn't healthy to internalize his anguish and to just cry when he needed to.
