Virgil blinked awake slowly, feeling sleepy. He guessed that the man had drugged him, somehow. He wasn't really sure what the man's deal was. He had seen Alan briefly, so he knew he was alive, but he didn't know about the fate of his younger brothers.
It was as if he had regained all of his senses at once. He blinked twice, feeling the soft, grassy ground. Something was wrong... something was wrong. He pulled himself up, ignoring the pounding headache in his head as he tried to figure out where he was. It didn't take long; the answer was clearly "in the middle of nowhere." He groaned as he got up, his head aching.
There was no Alan, there was no kidnapper. At least, if nothing else, he'd gotten a firm look at the man, so it hadn't been a totally wasted trip. He hoped against hope that his brothers were free.
Still, hope wouldn't do him much good. There were just a lot of woods. He felt the dirt underneath him on the ground and sighed as he ran the dirt through his hand, allowing himself a brief minute of pity and comfort. It was only then that he noticed that the woods themselves were dark, pitch black even.
Dark woods. He was alone in dark woods. Wonderful. That never met anything good in movies, did it?
Dammit.
So not cool.
Virgil pushed himself up. He felt rested, like he hadn't for weeks. That was good. He knew that he would need to conserve his strength to figure out how to get himself out of here.
And away from all the nice animals.
Scott and Gordon had been both committed to the hospital. Scott, who was over eighteen and had been conscious, had signed for Gordon's leg surgery because his father wouldn't be able to get there in less than four hours. He had been happy to find his brothers. Or at least John thought that he had. John sighed, sitting back down again.
He hated hospitals. He swallowed hard, wondering when his father would be here. He had managed to call both his father and the FBI, as well as the ambulance, which had taken him straight there.
Usually, when he was at a hospital, he had the ability to rely on one of his brothers. John forced a deep breath. He couldn't think like that. He was over eighteen. It was time for him to stop acting like a wimp. When their father had been depressed, right after their mother's death, Scott had to grow up really quick, and he'd had to "become a man" almost overnight. Now it was John's turn to become a man.
He sighed, checking his watch for what seemed like the thousandth time. Where was his father? Shouldn't he be here by now? Shouldn't someone from the FBI be there by now? He just wanted to talk to anyone he knew...
With that, his father appeared, a worried look on his face. "John!" he said, breathing a sigh of relief. "I'm so glad you're okay."
He allowed himself a minute of comfort, embracing himself in his father's hug. "Scott and Gordon are in surgery, and they're looking for Virgil and Alan. I'm sorry, Dad."
Jeff sighed as he looked at his son. "I'm glad that you found Scott and Gordon, son. I just wish you'd told somebody – anybody – that you were going! Why didn't you tell me? I would have helped!"
John lowered his eyes, and said all in a breath, "We just weren't sure, and..." he then gave a detailed explanation of what happened, holding his breath when he was finished.
"Wait a minute," his father stopped him. "You tied Virgil up?"
"What was I supposed to do, Dad? He had a gun pointed at me and at Virgil! It wasn't exactly like I had another choice!" John allowed his face to flush. He knew that this was going to happen... He closed his eyes.
"If you had called the FBI, or told me, you wold have had another choice! Alan and Virgil would probably be here right now. I can't believe you, John. I thought you were more responsible than that!" Jeff saw the doctor and rose. "I'm going to talk to the doctor. Stay here and don't move. You've already caused enough trouble."
John allowed a tear to slip down his face as he hugged his chest to his knees. He hoped that eventually his father would forgive him. Right now, though, John couldn't forgive himself.
Alan struggled against the man who was holding him. He hated him. The man smelled bad. And he had hurt Virgil really, really bad. He had been allowed to hug Virgil for a minute before the man had ripped Virgil out of his hands. Alan hadn't known what the man had done with Virgil, but he knew it wasn't good.
He frowned when they approached the airport. Having been locked up in a house with the man, Scott and Gordon for the past – he didn't know how long – and the people unnerved him. What if they were all bad men like this man? He knew that logically they weren't. He pushed against the man as he attempted to carry him.
"I can walk," he said, his voice surly. He was going to let the man know exactly how mad he was with him. Exactly how mad. Alan swallowed hard as they approached the airport terminal. He knew what that meant. There would be people there. People meant a chance at escaping. A chance to see his family again.
Flashback
"Gordon, tell me a story," Alan begged. He was sitting on his bed, wearing a blue hooded sweatshirt. He was freezing. The room had no heat. Gordon was probably cold, too; he had
on a black hooded sweatshirt. The man hadn't complained about buying clothes for Alan but had grumbled when he had come back from Gordon. Gordon had three total outfits and only one thin, almost-threadbare sweater. At least Alan's sweater felt somewhat warm.
"About what, Squirt?" Gordon asked. It would take someone totally clueless to see that his brother looked extremely tired.
Ala remembered that once upon a time, he had protested that nickname. Now, though, the nickname reminded him of home, and anything that reminded him of home was good. "Anything."
Gordon grinned. "Okay. I'll tell you a story. I think you were about seven. Dad was flying us somewhere. I don't remember where. I think that's 'cuz we ended up driving. .. or was that a different trip? Anyway, you were terrified of planes."
"I was?"
"You got over it," Gordon clarified. He continued. "We had just gotten to the airport and Dad was all ready to fly. You weren't, especially when you learned that we were going to the doctor's for a check-up. I mean, we had other stuff planned, but... yeah. So we're going through the airport and you start freaking out. Scott was with us, too, not Dad. That makes this story even better... I don't know why, but suddenly you started screaming 'You're not my daddy' so loud the entire plane area... I swear that everyone who could looked at you."
Alan raised his eyebrow and sniffled. "Really?" he asked.
"Yes, really."
End flashback
Alan widened his eyes. If everyone had stared at him when he had been screaming "you're not my daddy" with Scott, maybe it would work here, too! It wasn't like he wanted to get on the plane with the man... Instantly, his struggle against the man increased.
"You aren't my father!" he screamed, fighting back against the man. "I hate you! Let me go! Let me go!"
It was at this time that the Behavioral Analysis Unit team were awaiting their private jet. Normally, it was all filed up and ready to go; not this time. Derek Morgan and Spencer Reid, who had gotten there to the airport early, were lounging around the lone airport gift store when Spencer Reid noticed something that caught both his eye and his memory. It was a screaming kid who looked to be... well, probably seven.
"What?" Derek asked, noticing that his friend's gaze was distracted.
"Does that kid look familiar to you?" Spencer asked. He knew he was right. He knew who the kid was – Alan Tracy. He knew Alan Tracy had been kidnapped out of his hotel room and had been missing for a few weeks. This was one of those times when Spencer Reid wished he couldn't remember everything that he saw.
He glanced the tabloids, trying to think of a very fast way to prove his point to Derek. "See this?" he asked, grabbing the paper. He could hear the kid's wails about how the man wasn't his father and had to get to him. "It's Alan Tracy. See that kid over there? That's Alan Tracy. We've found him. And that's not his father."
"Shit," Derek muttered, grabbing his gun. "Can we borrow this?" he asked to the bubble-gum-chewing-news clerk.
"You really need to pay for it first," she started, but was cut off by Spencer Reid, who flashed his badge at her.
"FBI. Good faith."
With that, they grabbed the magazine and raced out of the building, following the man who had the kidnapped tean.
So... Who thinks Jeff put his foot in his mouth, big-time?
Who recognizes our guest stars from Criminal Minds?
Thanks for your review!
Oh... One last question. Who's going to force Jeff to apologize first, Gordon or Scott? o.0
