Disclaimer: I don't own the Tracys or International Rescue.
A/N: Sorry for the long delay in updating but real life has been a pain. Thanks to Sam1 for beta'ing once again for me.
CHAPTER 21
Scott slowly became more aware of his surroundings. He heard an incessant beeping noise beside him, but he couldn't seem to move his head to see what it was. There was also a clicking noise that seemed to be what was pushing air into him from the tube down his throat. It was very disconcerting, but for some reason it didn't frighten him now, nearly as much as the people that were standing above him.
Well, that is, except for the blond haired man sitting beside him. He was still trying to figure out his name and where he knew him from. It was like there were these pictures in the back of his mind but every time he reached for one it would fade into the background and the memory just wouldn't come.
He tried to lift his arms but they just wouldn't cooperate no matter how hard he tried. It was like his brain couldn't access anything below his chest, and that worried him. The more he tried to move the more his panic rose as he struggled to get his body to do what he wanted it to do. What really worried him was that he couldn't feel anything. It was as if his whole body was numb. "Oh God," Scott prayed as he closed his eyes against the tears of frustration that formed and began to slowly slide from his blue eyes. "What's going on? Why can't I move and remember where I am?"
John reached over and gently placed his hands on each side of Scott's face. The panic in his big brother's eyes tore at his heart. He could see the confusion and fear in those cobalt depths worsen as Doc took his penlight and moved to check Scott's pupil reactions.
Pain exploded behind his eyes and through his head. It felt as though someone was trying to bash his head in, the pain was so intense. Scott clenched his eyes closed, trying to block the light and a whimper escaped from him. It felt as if his brain short-circuited, forcing his eyes to roll back into his head as images flashed rapidly through his brain.
"Oh, God," someone yelled. "He's seizing."
Scott felt a sense of flying. Soaring through the air at incredible speeds. The feel of the controls in his hands of the machine he was flying. Then the pictures in his head changed and he could hear people screaming. Faces flashed through his mind's eye of people who were dead or injured. Floods, earthquakes, rumbling avalanches, fires, explosions. All of the pictures flooded through his mind…men, women, and children broken and bleeding.
A collage of scenes featuring the men who had been standing or sitting near him suddenly played in his head. The dark haired one painting and sitting at a piano, playing as if his heart was breaking. The older dark haired man sitting behind a desk gazing at a picture of a woman with a sad smile on his face. A picture of the redhead in a hospital hooked to machines looking sad, but then walking from a pool with a smile on his face. The blond kid doing homework, then of the young blond asleep in a bed tossing from a bad dream along with a feeling of how soft that hair was as he gently stroked a hand through it trying to soothe the crying boy.
The most vivid images were of the other blond. The one that had sat next to him and told him just moments before that he was okay and safe. The blond sitting at a control panel eating a chocolate bar as he smiled at something that was said. Seeing the blond through the visor of a helmet, lying among smoking and fiery debris with one hand still on the control panel and blood trickling down the side of his face from a head wound. That same blond young man fighting a creature, then lifting Scott into his arms and holding him. Then Scott reaching up and telling the young man that he needed to let him go.
Suddenly, the images faded and a sense of loss ran through him along with a blazing pain that seemed to flood through his veins. Scott could hear voices telling him, "Easy," and "It's okay, Scotty. You're going to be okay just roll with it." He didn't know where the voices were coming from, but in some part of his brain he knew they were coming from the men that had been standing beside the bed. They were actually soothing in a way, but Scott wasn't sure why. All he knew was that his head felt as though it were going to explode. His body felt strangely disconnected. Only the rapid and painful beating of his heart seemed real as it pumped fiery blood through his veins. Scott was certain that he had been screaming his head off because of the pain, but no sound emerged because of the thing in his throat. It only made him feel as if he were choking as his throat worked around it trying to make a scream.
Scott kept his eyes tightly clenched shut, and it took a few moments to realize that the whimpering that he heard was actually coming from him. Everything seemed too distant and vague. He wasn't sure what had happened, but he knew it wasn't good. It was as if he couldn't hold onto one thought. There was a flurry of images still playing in his head and he was unable to make sense of any of them.
After a while, he finally decided to open his eyes. He was alarmed when it took him a while before he could focus. Everything was blurry and he realized it was tears, only when the blond man beside him gently brushed one away with a finger tip. The pain seemed to leave slowly as the blond's hand stroked through his hair. Scott felt the need to rub against that hand in his hair, but whatever the thing that was attached to his head prevented him from doing it. So looking up at the blond, Scott hoped that the he could see that he didn't want him to stop. The blond reassured him that he was safe and okay as Scott felt weariness overtake him and he closed his eyes and drifted to sleep.
"Shh, Scotty," John said gently as he reached and stroked a hand through Scott's hair. "It's okay now. Doc won't do that again anytime soon, so you just relax. I'm right here. We all are and we're not going anywhere. Everything is going to be okay. Promise."
Doc continued to monitor Scott's vitals. The severity of the seizure worried him. The head trauma from the explosion and lack of oxygen made for a grim recovery prognosis. What worried Doc was that there was still no sign of recognition, nor any indication of movement since he awoke. Once Scott relaxed into sleep, Doc turned towards Jeff who had been standing beside him throughout the ordeal. He needed to let Jeff know that Scott's third round of tests were coming back and they all showed signs of severe damage to his brain and to other organs in his body. The amount of time that his body had been deprived of oxygen when he coded had caused permanent and irreversible damage. The thought of having to explain this to Jeff was killing Doc, but he knew that Jeff needed to know that his Scotty was never going to be the same. What hurt and surprised him the most was the feeling that maybe it would have been best if Scott had never woke. That he should have stayed in the coma and then faded away, beyond the reach of his stubborn brothers, so that they all could be spared the inevitable outcome. Now, there was no going back. The damage was done and all Doc or anyone could do was make Scott as comfortable as possible and give him what life they could.
Looking over at his friend, Doc reached over and placed a comforting hand on Jeff's shoulder, but Jeff never took his eyes from Scott. Doc could see from the play of emotions fleeting across Jeff's face that he was struggling to hold his composure. They had spoken a few days earlier about what the repercussions would be if Scott were able to pull through and wake up. Jeff had watched as Doc and his team of specialists and nurses preformed the tests. He never left Scott's side for longer than it took to get something to eat, drink or to take a quick bathroom break or shower. Jeff was trying his best to be strong for everyone but Doc knew that he was holding it together only by a thread. It was going to be a big transition for all of them to get used to. Doc wasn't so sure that Jeff and the boys were going to adjust so well to the medical realities of Scott's condition. He prayed they did, but there is a point where you just have to go with what your given.
After a few more moments, Jeff turned to face Doc. The pain of knowledge was in his eyes as he reached up and placed his hand over Doc's on his shoulder, then nodded towards the door.
"I need to speak with you outside, Doc," Jeff said as he made his way slowly to the door. "I'll be back in a moment boys." He glanced back towards the bed for a moment before pulling the door open. Then he walked from the room with Doc following close behind.
Once outside the door, he walked down the hall until he came to a window that overlooked the hospital courtyard outside. The sun was just beginning to lower and the sky was filled with hues of pink, purple and orange. It was as if the sky didn't know exactly what color it wanted to be so it mixed them all together making everything look beautiful as if a backdrop in a painting. Like the sky, Jeff's emotions were mixed and swirling. Placing his hands on either side of the window pane, he leaned his forehead against the cool glass of the window and sighed heavily. He clenched his hands and fought the tears that threatened to fall. He could feel his pain, grief, and anger clawing at his throat in a desperate attempt to yell at the powers that be for putting him and his family through this hell. For making his Scotty suffer when all he had tried to do was save someone's life. His heart beating faster and faster with every breath that now felt like the worst kind of agony as tried to fight back the panic attack he knew was coming.
"We *breath* should *breath* have let *breath* him go," Jeff forced out quietly between gulps of air before he collapsed to his hands and knees. "Oh God, we should have just let him go."
Doc didn't say a word as he pulled his friend around and sat him against the wall before pushing his head down between his knees. What could he say? Those same thoughts had just run through his mind as well not even five minutes before. It just hurt seeing his friend hurting so much and how hard it was for Jeff to actually admit something like that to himself. The guilt alone of even that very thought, now had his friend in the throes of a major panic attack. That and the pain of knowing that your son who was once this strong, athletic, smart young man would possibly never be that way again.
Jeff's gasping soon turned to heart wrenching sobs as he wrapped his arms around himself and let Doc embrace him while the rollercoaster of emotions erupted after being held in for so long. He didn't know how long he sobbed against his friends shoulder, but he was glad that Doc hadn't said anything. His friend just sat there and held him until the tears and sobbing gasps calmed to a silent gentle glide down his flushed cheeks. Jeff became aware at some point, of two nurses making their way towards them with concern in their eyes, but Doc had motioned them away with a shake of his head. The two nurses hesitated only a moment, but then walked back down the hall. Jeff didn't move and Doc just continued to hold him to his side until Jeff was finally able to lift his head and take the first deep breath in a long while.
Pulling away, Jeff sat up placed his elbows on his knees, and ran his hands through his dark hair. "So now what?" Jeff asked without looking up. "What are our options? What do we have to do to make things better for my Scotty?"
Doc sighed heavily and looked over at his friend before he spoke. "We need to just concentrate on getting him healed as much as possible right now, Jeff. He's still not out of the woods yet. The leg injury alone could be one of our biggest problems if we don't watch it closely. The injury to the femoral in his leg was quite bad. That and the seizures he seems to be having more frequently could be a deadly combination.
The tests results came back and show there is substantial damage to the cervical spine in his neck. Dr. Thompson said that the swelling in the area was constricting the blood flow and that the longer the swelling remains the worse the damage. If the swelling goes down in the next day or so, then there is a chance, albeit a small one, that at some point Scott will regain the feeling and movement in his body below the injury. If the swelling doesn't go down, then Dr Thompson said that the damage would be irreversible, paralyzing him for the rest of his life. If that happens, his breathing on his own could eventually become impossible and he'd be on a respirator and feeding tube until the day he leaves us.
There's damage to the liver, spleen, and lungs that we have to keep a watch on also. Being without oxygen for so long didn't help and caused irreparable damage to them all. As for the head injury -", Doc said, only to be interrupted by Jeff's pained voice.
"No, you don't have to tell me that," Jeff interrupted. "I can see for myself that the brain damage is extensive. It's as if I'm looking at a shell of my son. There's nothing inside his eyes except pain and confusion. There is no recognition at all and the only reason he lets John anywhere close is because my Johnny was there and made him feel safe."
Sighing heavily Jeff continued, "My God, am I a horrible father for wishing that my son had stayed dead? Am I a bastard because I want my son to be like he was and I don't want me and my other boys to have to sit and watch him suffering? Then, on the other hand, am I selfish because I don't give a shit what is wrong with him just so long as I can see him alive and breathing? Tell me, Doc," Jeff pleaded as he looked over at his friend. "Tell me what I'm supposed to feel, so I don't feel so damn guilty. Guilty for wishing, one moment that my Scotty would just stop breathing so I don't have to deal with all this and make these hard decisions, and then in the very next moment just being grateful that he's alive. I'm so damn afraid of losing him, but I guess that I've already lost him in a way because of the brain damage."
"Oh God, I'm so confused, " Jeff said as he continued to rake his hands through his hair. "I don't know how I'm feeling and I can't even keep a clear thought in my head. How the hell am I supposed to make decisions when I can't even think or understand what it is that I'm feeling?
I know that I handle life and death situations all the time, but DAMN IT. "This is my son. My beautiful Scott. My second-in-command. The one voice of reason when I can't see any. Have I just depended on him too much to be there when things get rough? Is this just my punishment for keeping him to close and not letting him have a life outside of the island and IR?" Sighing, Jeff shook his head as if to clear it. "I'm sorry. I know that I'm rambling and not making much sense. I just feel so damn responsible for all of this, and I feel guilty. How the hell can I want my son to die? That's not me, Doc. You know that's not me, right? Please tell me that I'm not some selfish sadistic asshole that just because he can't cope with the outcome would rather see his son dead than be some shell lying there unable to speak or move."
Doc looked over at his friend. "No. You're not a selfish, sadistic, asshole. I'm not the one to judge you for how your feeling, Jeff. In my experience from being a doctor I've seen many people feel the same exact way and it's absolutely normal for you to be conflicted in how you feel about this situation. There's no right way or wrong way to feel. You just have to "feel" it. I think that you need to sit down with the boys and all of you discuss how all of you are feeling. I don't think that you are the only one feeling conflicted. Your other boys are not oblivious to the situation, Jeff. They know full well the changes that all of you are going to have to make in order to make the best choices for Scott. Virgil, alone, already suspects that there is too much brain damage. He's sought me out since the day Scott woke up and discussed what treatments would be best. I really think that you and the boys need to talk it all out, and do it soon. I know that you don't want to, but the others need to know the full results of the tests and what they will mean for Scott's future."
"I'm not telling you to give up hope," Doc continued. "I'm just saying that you all need to prepare for every possibility. Be it good, bad or somewhere in between. Miracles happen every day," Doc whispered. "I've seen young men and women wake up from death itself and open their eyes. I've seen you, Scott, and your other boys pull miracles out of your asses on missions that nobody should have walked away from. That is, when the damn media is lucky enough to be around to catch IR in the act. If anyone can pull off another miracle and survive this tragedy, it's Scott. You know as well as I do that even if that boy is never the same , he's always going to be a fighter. It's going to be a long hard road, but he's got enough stubbornness in him from you and Lucy that I've very little doubt that he'll somehow bring about that miracle. Hell Jeff, He's already a living, breathing miracle."
"You're right," Jeff admitted. "I should talk to the others." Pushing himself to his feet, Jeff turned to see Doc get to his, then placed his hand on his friends shoulder. "Thanks for letting me fall completely apart on you like that. I hope to one day be able to repay you for all you've done, Steven. I don't really know what else I can say to let you know how much I appreciate what you and your staff have done to help us. Thanks just doesn't seem to be enough."
"You know that you don't have to thank me, Jeff. I brought all those boys into the world and I've doctored them since they were children. I would do anything to protect them and help them. I see the lives that you and your boys save every day. We are all basically in the same line of work, and that's saving lives I don't need thanks for doing what I love to do and helping people. Let's just concentrate on getting Scotty well, then I'll let you know what you can do to thank me," Doc said with a grin, trying to lighten the mood.
A half smile lifted the corner of Jeff's mouth as he whispered, "alright" Then both he and Doc made their way back towards Scott's room.
Back in the room, John, Virgil, Gordon and Alan sat quietly watching their big brother as he slept. John continued to stroke his fingers through what was left of Scott's hair. It was just a few minutes after Jeff left before John turned to Virgil and whispered, "I can't stand feeling so damn helpless. I can't stand seeing the pain and fear in his eyes when he looks at all of us. I can't stand knowing that there is nothing we can do except wait and see if he recovers from all of this. I know there's a lot that Doc and Dad are not telling us. I saw it in their faces as they walked out of the room.
Please guys," John pleaded, "please tell me what you know, because I know right now is that Scott's not recognizing anyone and he's not doing so well. Please, Virg, if you know something you have to tell us. We need to know what we are dealing with here. This not knowing is killing us all."
At first, Virgil didn't respond. He didn't want to tell his brothers about the conversations that he'd had with Doc for the last few days. As he looked around the room at his brothers he knew that he needed to tell them. Turning back to John, Virgil took a breath and then gave his brothers the news he'd been dreading and trying to ignore.
"You guys remember the other day when I went down to the lounge to get coffee? I was gone for a good while and when I got back to the room Gordon asked me where I'd been." When all his brothers had nodded their heads, except for Johnny who'd been still sleeping because of his injuries at the time, Virgil continued. "Well I did some digging and I was able to get my hands on Scott's test results."
As John opened his mouth, Virgil held up a hand to interrupt the question that he knew his brother was just about to ask and said, "Let's just say that the information fell into my lap and leave it at that." Once he saw John close his mouth and Gordon and Alan shift uncomfortably, he continued. "The first set of tests that Doc did were, for some reason, marked "inconclusive." It was strange to see the scans and workups. In one frame they would show damage, but then the very next frame there was no damage. It was crazy. Like his body was going through some sort of transformation and he was correcting the damage in his body, but then the damage would show up somewhere else. I've never seen anything like it. Apparently, Doc and his staff hadn't either. It was so unexplained that they even took the time to test their equipment to see if there was a glitch somewhere in their system and with the equipment itself. Everything checked out perfect on the equipment, but the second round of tests showed the same results. So again they all came back inconclusive. The third round of tests, unfortunately, showed a different result." He wasn't as sensitive as John but he was damn close and his brothers could see the emotional turmoil in his stance and eyes.
" Oh my God, I wish with everything in me that I'd never seen those results," Virgil whispered as he lowered his head and looked down and then closed his eyes. "If I could take that knowledge and pluck it from my mind I swear I would." His words were soft but then tapered off as he fell silent, trying to calm himself.
Getting up from where he had been sitting, Gordon made his way over to Virgil's side and lifted Virgil's chin gently before asking in a soft tone, "You okay, Virg? You have to tell us what they said."
"He's right, Virg," John said from the bed where he sat next to Scotty. "You have to tell us what we're going to be dealing with. I can see that it's bad, but we need to know. No matter how horrible it is, we need to know."
After nodding his head at Gordon, Virgil took a deep breath before he continued. He knew that his brothers needed know and they would do everything they needed to in order to help Scott. Funny, knowing that didn't make it any easier to tell them. "Severe organ and brain damage," he said as he finally reopened his eyes and looked at his brothers. "There's damage to his liver, spleen, lungs, and brain."
He paused as the next words got stuck in his throat, but after a few deep breaths he continued. "From what the scans and tests showed it's irreversible. Not something that will kill him, but it's going to make things challenging for him. He has damage to the cervical spine, but we already knew that he had a broken neck. It's still a waiting game to know the extent of the damage to his spinal cord itself, until the swelling goes down. His leg injury is of some concern because of the femoral artery that was damaged. They're concerned about infection setting in because of the river water and the debris they had to clean out of it when they fixed it. It's already showing some signs of infection, but they are pumping antibiotics through him in the hopes it will ward it off. They're also concerned with blood clots forming because of his lack of movement and the amount of damage his entire body sustained."
Alan, who paled even more than usual, walked over and gently stroked a knuckle down the side of Scott's face before look up at John, Virgil, and Gordon. "If a clot forms we could lose him again. Couldn't we, Virg?" Alan asked quietly.
Tears were forming in his blue eyes as he fought to keep them from falling. He knew it was a losing battle the moment that Gordon walked over and reached to place a soothing hand on his shoulder. "Why, Gordy?" The tears he'd tried to hold back fell from his eyes. "Why is this happening to Scotty?" Alan shook his head as he tried to find his voice through the tears. "He saved that little baby, guys. Scotty saved that kid and was trying to save his parents, so why does God want to punish him? Oh God, Gordy. If he can't fly, what's Scotty gonna do? Would Scotty want to live if he can't walk or fly anymore? Do you think that he'll be mad at us for bringing him back?"
The tears were now flowing steadily down Alan's pale cheeks as his brothers tried to console him, but even as they tried, they wondered the same thing. Alan was voicing what all three of them had been thinking, but just didn't want to say themselves. Alan had turned and placed his blond head on Gordon's chest.
Gordon looked up at John and Virgil as he held onto their little brother who was now crying silently against his chest. "Out of the mouths of babes," Gordon murmured to them as they all three locked eyes. Eyes that held the same exact pain, fear and hope. Eyes that locked onto the door as it opened slowly to admit their father and Doc back into the room. Eyes that watched as Jeff and Doc approached the bed with grim faces. Eyes that locked onto their father's face as he said the five words they were dreading to hear. "Boys, we need to talk."
No one in the room noticed the slight breeze that entered the room and gently lifted the hair of the young man lying injured on the bed. Not one person noticed the slight flicker of the lights, the light scent of summer rain that filled the room, nor the shimmering cloud, like dew drops on an early morning meadow, in the shape of a small figure next to the bed. Nobody heard a sound as the figure leaned over, placed a gentle kiss to Scott's cheek, then whispered, "It's okay now, Scotty. We still have one more journey to travel. Everything is going to be okay. I promise."