Scott's hotel

"Scott," Jeff said after his oldest answered the phone, "We are leaving in five minutes."

"Alright," Scott responded, "The local police will close down the strip of road near the school in two hours. That strip is about the length of two carrier ships, so put the brakes on quickly."

"Thanks for the advice. We will be there in little over three hours, so most likely you will be getting the call to find Alan."

"How are you going to place the bid while you're flying?" Scott wondered.

"Brains is going to place the bid," Jeff informed, "And no, I will not tell you what the amount is. Only Brains and I know."

"Fine, I won't ask," Scott grumbled, "Is he also going to be monitoring the feed?"

"That's right, so he will also most likely be the one to get the call from the kidnapper…He will then call you with the directions. We should land half an hour after that."

"We really have this timed out," Scott thought aloud with a smile, "What happens if you are late?"

"I expect to only be early," Jeff laughed, "So there is no late option. You get Alan and we will meet you at the hotel. Then we will stay in Vermont if we have to or fly straight back here."

"F.A.B.," Scott replied, "In under three hours I will have Alan and then will be locking him in his room never to see the light of day again!"

"I think your brothers, and possibly me, will gladly help with that. Now it is time for us to leave, see you in a few hours."

Scott sat heavily as he hung up. Looking at the clock, he noticed that it was seven thirty. "Nine o'clock and the bid goes in. Ten o'clock and I find were Alan is. Ten oh one and Alan is safely back in my arms," Scott said to himself. Though he knew one minute to get Alan was an extreme exaggeration, but hey, sounded better than ten twenty…

Alan's room

Alan was lying on his back on the bed, not sleeping, but more comfortable than sitting tied to a chair. He went to bend his knees, but his right one stopped short, stupid cuff, he thought.

Billy was moving around a lot; in the room than out, by the computer than by the bed. The best guess Alan had as to what Billy was actually doing was packing. As Billy came back into the room, Alan called out, "How much longer?"

Billy snorted, "You really are impatient," Alan shrugged and plucked at the blanket he had over is still bare chest, "There is an hour until the blind bid."

"And what are you doing?"

"Nothing you need to worry about," Billy called over his shoulder as he left again.

Propping himself up on his elbows, Alan waited for Billy to came back again, "I could help," he offered.

"No," Billy said, moving things around, "You really can't. You're back in the bed, why don't you sleep?"

"Because you effectively woke me up," Alan grumbled flopping back down, "Now I am so bored that sleeping just seems more boring!"

Billy stopped what he was doing and moved towards the bed, looking down at the blonde, "I don't know what to tell you," he finally said, "First you want to sleep, now you can't sleep; seems these next two hours are going to suck for you."

"Thanks for bringing that to my attention," Alan sighed, "And I can please have a shirt!"

Billy smiled and went back to work, "No, you can't," he responded, "Because that is how you were last seen, so that is how you are going to be picked up."

Alan groaned, because we can't disappoint, now can we? Yes we can! I am going home; there is no need to keep me shirtless…

Billy entered the room again and sat on the bed to the right of Alan. Alan jumped from the sudden presence and unconsciously pulled away. "Let's look at your hand again," Billy said picking up said hand.

"Let's not and say we did," Alan tried to pull away.

"Why are you so difficult about your hand being looked at?" Billy wondered while keeping a steady grip on the hand, "You are more difficult with this than you were with losing your shirt."

"I've never liked hospitals," Alan groused with a frown, "And with you insisting on looking at it, makes me feel like I'm at the doctors."

"Hmmm," Billy hummed, taking off the dirty bandage, "Well, it's a good thing I keep looking," he stated.

"And why is that?"

"Because your hand is getting infected, and will most likely need stitches" Billy said, gently prodding one of the lacerations, "Now tell me honestly, how much does it hurt."

Alan grimaced at the prodding, and sighed, "On a scale of one to ten, it's about a six," he admitted, "But I have had worse, so it really doesn't hurt."

"High pain tolerance or not," Billy said, "Six is still high, and this infection isn't going to get better on its own. The antibiotic I have can only do so much."

"And you can't take me to a hospital," Alan guessed, "So I will have to deal with the pain and possible side effects from the infection…for two hours…"

"Maybe more," Billy warned as he put a fresh bandage on, "There is no guarantee that whoever buys you will take you to get treated right away. Though the infection does mean you will eventually get some help."

"Oh goody," Alan muttered taking his hand back, "I won't be left for dead…instead I get treated and made better for who knows what." Except my Dad is going to win, and I will be back to 100% in no time! Alan thought to himself.

Billy chuckled and stood up. Walking to where he had left the computer, he saw there was ten minutes left on the timer until the blind bid. "Good news Alan," he called, sitting down and prepping the bid, "Ten minutes to the bid. You see, wrapping your hand again had another purpose: killing time."

"Yay," Alan said emotionlessly and not moving. One more hour…then this nightmare is over! Just one more hour…