Left By the Wayside
By Criminally Charmed
Disclaimer – see chapter one
You like, you like! ---Happy Dance---
Oh, and I may work in a doctors' office but I have no clue about most medical procedures. So thanks loads to Wikipedia and man do I miss having Little Miss Bump helping out.
Chapter Ten – He's a Tracy
Jeff Tracy looked up as a cup of coffee was placed in front of him. Picking it up, he absently took a sip before looking up to see who had delivered the beverage. Seeing the orderly – Stan? – in front of him, Jeff gave a brief nod and set the cup back down. "Thanks," he muttered.
"No problem, Mr. Tracy," Stan Thomas responded. "Ms. Delgado asked that I stay with you until your sons arrived."
"You don't have to," Jeff said.
"I want to, Mr. Tracy," Stan answered. "I know you have to be worried sick. Oh," he added, placing some papers in front of Jeff. "We have your son's medical records. Someone -" Stan thumbed through the papers before continuing. "An Ann-Marie Thompson sent the records and your insurance information. You just need to sign to confirm the info."
Picking up the pen that had been placed next to the papers, Jeff began to sign. He knew they would be accurate if Ann-Marie, his long-time Personal Assistant, had sent them. There were times he thought that if it wasn't for her, his business and his life would have fallen apart years ago. Catching the note she had placed in the top e-mail, Jeff almost smiled.
"Don't let Jeff drink too much coffee."
The four oldest Tracy brothers easily passed the security guard once they reached the hallway marked "Surgical Waiting Rooms". Approaching the door with the large "D" on it, they all froze. As much as they wanted to know how Alan was, they were equally afraid of that knowledge and the pain it could bring.
Steeling himself, Scott opened the door and spotted their father sitting on a generic couch – he swore all hospitals put in bulk orders – signing off on some papers. At the sound of the door opening, Jeff looked up hopefully and was mildly disappointed to see his sons.
"Hey boys. I was hoping it was someone coming to tell me how Alan was."
"No word yet?" Virgil asked as he settled down next to his father. Jeff shook his head and handed the paperwork back to Stan.
"Someone from the trauma team will be up here as soon as they can give you some answers, Mr. Tracy," Stan told him. Shaking the papers with one hand, he nodded at the brothers before continuing. "I'm just going to bring these to the nurses' station. I'll have someone scan them into Alan's e-chart." Looking them over as he moved towards the door, the orderly glanced back at Jeff. "Allergies to penicillin and walnuts?"
Jeff nodded. "Yes. We found out about the penicillin allergy when Alan was – what? Fifteen months old?"
John murmured a yes, before adding. "Right. When he got that ear infection. Alan, Virgil and I all get Mom's migraines, but Al was the only one to get her medicine allergy."
Gordon was staring into a fish tank in the room while he absently spoke, "The walnut allergy we only found out about at Winter Break back in February."
Sensing that something about that allergy bothered Gordon, Stan simply nodded and left the room.
"So…" Scott murmured. "Nothing yet?"
It was an unnecessary question that Jeff didn't bother to answer.
Just then, the door opened again. Expecting the orderly to be returning, the Tracys were surprised at the sight of a young woman. She stood only a few inches over five feet but stood with a confidence that hid her height. Her dark brown hair was pulled back in a French braid and her chocolate colored eyes emitted compassion.
"Mr. Tracy?" At Jeff's nod, she continued. "I'm Dr. Shana Pierce. Dr. Axtell and I are heading the trauma team for your son, Alan."
Pulling up a hassock, Dr. Pierce sat down, motioning the Tracys, who had all stood up to sit as well. Once they had either returned to or found seats on the two sofas in the room, she began to speak.
"Alright, Mr. Tracy, I'm not one for sugar-coating, so I will tell you that we almost lost Alan again in the trauma room. But," she hurried on once she saw the family's shock, "we were able to quickly get him back this time. I need to go over Alan's injuries with you and what we need to do."
"Wait," Virgil interrupted. "What do you mean you lost Alan again?"
Looking confused, Dr. Pierce glanced at the four brothers before returning her gaze to Jeff.
"My older sons just got here," Jeff explained. "I didn't have a chance to tell them yet."
"Oh," Dr. Pierce sighed. "Well, Alan coded in the medi-vac chopper. Luckily, they were very close and we were able to work on him as soon as they landed."
The brothers looked as if they were going to be ill. John, sitting on the opposite side of Jeff, reached out and grasped his father's arm. As Jeff's unofficial sounding board, John knew how traumatic that had to have been for the older man.
Jeff patted at John's hand, acknowledging the comforting gesture without ever taking his eyes from the doctor.
Allowing the family a moment to absorb what she had already said, Dr. Pierce started anew with her list.
"OK, going from best news first: Alan dislocated his right shoulder which was easy enough to reset. Some gentle exercise should take care of that. He was also suffering from mild hypothermia which, again, was easily addressed."
A small nod from her patient's father had Dr. Pierce continuing. "Next was Alan's left ankle, which was a clean break. We'll be putting that in a light cast and it should be healed in about four weeks. Alan also had some damage to his ribs. Most of them are at least bruised, two are cracked in the back and one was broken in the front of his chest – I am presuming he landed chest first after the initial impact. The broken rib was a displaced rib -"
Dr. Pierce paused, planning to explain before seeing that the family understood the phrase, which allowed her to continue. "The displaced rib caused Alan's most serious injury, a collapsed right lung. This pneumothorax is what led to a hemothorax which is what caused the cardiac arrest."
"Did you place a stent already?" Virgil asked.
"We did," Dr. Pierce responded, mildly surprised that the family comprehended the medical terms, even if they were appalled by Alan's injuries. "But it isn't enough. We need to make sure there are no bone fragments in Alan's chest and while we are there, Dr. Axtell and I will make sure the lung is remaining inflated as well as cleaning up the blood."
"In addition," Dr. Pierce sighed mildly, "there was a small tear in Alan's spleen, which we feel we can repair without having to remove the organ. He could live without the spleen, but it would be better for him not to."
"And the head injury?" Scott asked tersely.
"A mild skull fracture. There was some fluid, we put in a tube to drain it already and our chief neurologist will double check later, but I am fairly certain there will be no lasting damage from that."
"What about his back?" Gordon whispered, tears having gathered in his eyes at the listing of his baby brother's injuries.
Dr. Pierce sighed again. "I'll be honest with you. There is swelling in that area and scans aren't showing any breaks, but there may be nerve damage or hairline fractures of the spinal column that would not show until the swelling goes down. Our best gauge for that may be when Alan wakes up."
Standing, Dr. Pierce looked the family over. "I have to go get ready for the surgery. Mr. Tracy, I'll need you to sign these consent forms." Jeff quickly did and the physician reclaimed the electronic note pad she had handed him.
"Alan will be moved to surgery in ten minutes. Do you remember where the trauma center was, Mr. Tracy?" When Jeff nodded, Dr. Pierce gave a small smile. "You and your sons can go see him. But the second you are told you have to leave, you have to, understand?"
The Tracys all nodded this time and followed Dr. Pierce to the door. Just outside the waiting room, Stan walked up to the group.
"Oh, Stan, wonderful," Dr, Pierce acknowledged the man. "Can you take the Tracys through the staff route to the Trauma Area? They can get there faster. I have to get ready."
"Will do, Doc," Stan grinned. "And Linda said to tell you that she'll grab the labs and final scans for the Ax Man."
Sighing, Dr. Pierce walked off in the opposite direction. "Why can't you call Dr. Axtell by his proper name, Stan?"
"When he's Colonel Axtell I do, mon Capitain!" Stan nodded at the Tracys before motioning at them to follow him. As they walked towards a secured elevator, Stan noticed the odd looks the family was giving him.
"Sorry. I serve in the same Air National Guard unit as the doctors. We all give the Dr. Axtell – or Colonel Axtell once a month – a hard time. But he's the best. As for Dr. Pierce – Captain Pierce – we act just the opposite. Girl's bright as they come, and she was the daughter of the Colonel's best friend. He helped raise her after her folks died in an accident and she spent more time here at the hospital than anywhere else. Guess it's hard to think of her as an adult sometimes, even if she is twenty-six now. But give her a scalpel and there's no one I would trust my life more to. 'Cept maybe Dr. Axtell."
Stan had used a card key to activate the elevator as he explained and when the doors opened, he ushered the group in. As they began to head down, Jeff asked a question that had been bothering him.
"Stan?" The orderly turned to him and Jeff took that as a sign to continue. "When Alan – when they were working on Alan on the flight pad, I thought I saw Dr. Pierce handling the paddles."
"Probably. Why?"
"She said something odd," Jeff explained. "She said "Don't let the bastard win". Who was she talking about?"
"Death," Stan said bluntly. "Dr. Pierce takes it pretty personally. See that accident that killed her folks? Dr. Pierce was in it. They were trapped for almost two days, just off the highway. But no one noticed the accident until a road crew was working in the area because of heavy underbrush. By the time they were found, her folks were dead and she spent almost a month as an inpatient. Everyone has something they do to overcome tragedy. That was the doc's."
As the doors slid open, the Tracys stayed silent. They knew what they had done to overcome the tragedy of Lucy Tracy's death, so they understood perfectly.
Barry sat in a cell, having been given an orange jump suit to change into. "Hey," he snapped at a passing officer. "Don't I get a lawyer?"
The officer glared at him, as everyone had heard what the guy had done. "Yeah, a call was put into the public defenders office. You'll get someone by tomorrow morning."
"I'm only in high school; you can't just leave me here."
Another officer walked up to the cell at that point. "Excuse me, but aren't you eighteen?" When Barry nodded, he continued. "Consider yourself lucky. Once we are done processing, you could have been sent to lock-up. Since the Public Defenders office is backlogged, Detective Matthews suggested you be kept here. Rather nice of him, wouldn't you say?"
"Nice? How many people who get into car accidents get thrown in jail?" Barry sneered.
"Car -" The first officer stared at him before throwing his hands in the air and storming off.
"What?" Barry snapped.
"Car accident? You jerk," the second officer groaned. "You ran a kid down, left him there – hell, you tried to hide him, delaying him being found. If he dies, the DA is gonna wanna push for extenuating circumstances. You better hope he lives. And you might wanna be glad this isn't a death penalty state."
The second officer stalked off, leaving Barry alone. As he leaned against the stone wall, Barry muttered angrily, "If it wasn't Jeff Tracy's kid, nobody would be making this big a fuss. Stupid Tracys. They've ruined my life."
The Tracys followed Stan back to the area Jeff had been escorted from not all that long ago. As they approached the door marked "Trauma Room Three", Jeff felt an icy grip seizing at his heart.
"I want to see Alan," Gordon whispered from the back of the group, "but -"
When Gordon didn't speak further, Virgil put an arm around his brother's shoulders and gave him a one armed hug, wordlessly agreeing on the sentiment.
John worried when Scott said nothing, concerned that the oldest Tracy son was holding too much in for his own good. But he also knew that nothing he could say could help.
Opening the door, the orderly led the Tracys into the room where they got their first sight of Alan since his arrival at the hospital. The teenager lay on a bed, hooked up to a variety of monitors, with IVs feeding the boy medicine and plasma. But most shocking of all was the breathing tube protruding from Alan's mouth.
Jeff stumbled towards the bed, barely aware of John placing a bracing arm around his father's waist as he guided him into a chair that had been pulled up to the bed by Stan. Brushing a shaking hand over his son's hair, Jeff whispered "Oh, Allie. Oh, baby – I am so sorry. I was angry and upset about something and you called..." Jeff sighed, rubbing the back of his hand against Alan's cheek. "I yelled at you and I hurt you. If I hadn't done that, you wouldn't have been out there. I would have picked you up and we would have gone to New York together. Got the tickets to the premier of "Mage of Mars" since I know how much you wanted to see it. I wanted to show you how proud I am of how hard you have been trying."
Scott had squatted down next to Alan on the other side. Bending his head down, he said nothing for a moment. When he raised his head, his brothers were shocked at the tears running down Scott's face. "Allie, please – do you know what Dad said a few months ago? When there was that, um, problem and we didn't think you could handle it without us?"
Looking over at Gordon, he nodded. "Gordo said, "Alan – he's just a kid." You know what Dad said? He just looked at us and said, "He's a Tracy." Nothing else. It was all he had to say. So you need to be a Tracy again. You need to be strong. Because -" Scott sucked in a breath, his body shaking with the stress of keeping his emotions down.
"Because we love you, Sprout," Virgil said softly, bending down next to his oldest brother, joining Scott's hand on Alan's arm.
"And we need you, kiddo," John said from next to Jeff, resting one hand on the chair and the other on Alan's hand, tracing the IV with his thumb.
From the bottom of the bed, Gordon looked at his only younger brother before he placed a hand on Alan's foot. "Hey Al. Do you remember when I had my accident? You wouldn't let me quit. So I am warning you here and now – I am not letting you give up. You are going to live and I plan on seeing you run again, got it? Guess we need you to get another pair of running shoes. Because you are so gonna need them, hear me?"
The Tracys sat in silence, the sounds of the medical equipment the only thing anyone would hear in the room. Suddenly, Stan and Linda came back in.
"Mr. Tracy?" Linda approached the bed. "I'm sorry, but we have to bring Alan up to surgery. Stan will take you back up to the waiting room on the surgical floor." Turning to the orderly, she whispered, "Security is trying to find that blasted reporter, but keep them to the staff elevators."
Jeff reluctantly stood and, with his sons, followed Stan back out into the hall. Holding back for a minute, the Tracys watched as the Trauma Team escorted Alan into the hallway and out of their sight.
Please, Lucy, Jeff thought, be with our baby. We lost you, I don't think we could handle losing Alan as well.
A/N – OK, so the Tracys are all together, Barry is in jail…Maybe this is a good place to leave it.
Alan – Lady, get your butt back here! You have me unconscious, badly hurt and enroute to surgery. You do not get to leave me here.
John – I have to agree with Alan, CC. You can't leave it here.
Alan – John, how did you get here?
CC – Oh, he was the favorite for including in the next conversation. – loud banging noise – So, John – I ever tell you how much Sam1 likes you? Or, um, how much people loved you scaring the pi$$ out of Barry? Did you like the wife and family I created for you in my other stories?
John (sighs) – Yes, CC, I am aware of Sam1. Because of her, I am in a very racy rated M story.
Alan – Really?
John (cuffs the back of his brother's head) – It was with my wife. Not the one CC gave me, the one Sam1 did.
CC – Yeah, it was hot. I can't write blatant, only implied sex.
John – We are seriously off subject. Now - loud banging noise – Wait, what was that noise?
CC (sighs) – It's Scott. He can be scary.
Alan – You locked Scott in a closet? Why?
CC – Why do you think I introduce Kate in the stories? She is the one person who tells him to shush and if he doesn't, she isn't afraid to knock his block off. Besides, regular sex does wonders for big brother. Relieves all that stress and tension.
Alan – Oh, man – so don't want to think about that.
John – Feel sorry for Virgil – he walked in on it. Twice. Two different series.
CC- Well, Gordon walked in on Alan and Tin-Tin…
John – What?
CC – Relax. In that story, Alan was twenty-two and graduated from college.
Alan (mutters) Damn. (Sighs) Well, we still have to let Scott out.
CC – OK, here is the deal. I will keep writing, as long as people keep reading, and I will give you the key to the padlock on the closet. But only if you give me a head start. Like I said, Scott is scary.
The brothers nod. CC hands over the key and runs.
Alan – Hey, she is gone. Can we rewrite the story?
John – Nah, this is a word doc. Fan Fic is giving CC fits again and she can't upload this chapter right now. So she will double check it once she has uploaded it but before it is published. She would remove anything we tamper with.
Alan – Damn.
John – Alan, language!
Alan – John, I have been chewed out unfairly by Dad, run down by a drunk driver, abandoned for HOURS, my heart has stopped twice, I am on a vent, and on my way to surgery. I think some minor cussing is permitted.
John – shrugs – Yeah, I'll give you that one, Sprout. Just don't let Dad or Scott catch you.
Alan – Fair enough. And don't call me Sprout.