They took turns sitting with their father.
It was a quiet room in the hospital, away from all the bustle and noise. Scott had made sure every detail had been attended to. Virgil had fussed to the point their father had banned him from the room.
Until Scott begged his father to let the whining puppy back in.
Virgil controlled himself after that.
Mostly.
John was more an observing spectre. There in three dimensions one day and a flickering hologram the next. The hospital helipad had been used multiple times by the space elevator.
The two astronauts spoke in numbers and scenarios. Usually, Alan would have been excited to listen.
But not right now.
Gordon, as usual was a firework let loose in the room. He tried to be quiet, but he seemed to sense their father's mood and was desperate to compensate when it dropped.
It got to the point where Dad had thrown a pillow at him and nearly confined him to the naughty corner with Virgil, but the fact their father had been able to throw the pillow was such a sudden plus, they'd all been distracted in congratulating him on his progress.
Gordon had smiled like the sun.
Grandma was always there.
It was almost fascinating to watch her look after her son. Grandma had always looked after him and his brothers, but this was different. Dad was her little boy. It was ever so obvious that even Alan picked it up.
There were moments where she left the room and Virgil would frown and suddenly follow her. There were days where she would ramble stories to their sleeping father apparently at random. The odd thing was, they were all stories that Alan had never heard.
Kayo was always quiet. She would slip into the room, sit down beside his dad and look at him with such an expression of sadness it hurt.
One time Alan had gone out to grab a snack from a vending machine. He had come back to hear soft singing. A peek through the crack in the door and he had witnessed Kayo singing in Malay. Dad was asleep, but she was stroking the back of his hand with a finger.
Alan had made himself scarce for the next half an hour, scampering down to the cafeteria and filling himself full of comfort food. Virgil eventually found him, interrogated him - as Alan's posture had obviously triggered some little brother alert in the big softie's brain - and there had been flannel hugs not long after.
Dad's recovery was hard.
As for Alan, he managed to sneak in some time alone with his dad. Sometimes he was awake and they would talk. About everything. Rockets, space, school, there were stories about his mom he had never heard, his grandparents, stories about himself and his brothers. Alan had plenty of those to share himself, and no doubt got several brothers in deep water in the process.
But other times Dad would be exhausted and just fall asleep. In those times Alan would just sit.
If his brothers came in, he had a video game at hand to provide the expected behaviour, but if they didn't, he was quite content to just sit and look at his father.
Dad was some kind of heroic mystery.
Scott spoke of his father as if the man knew everything. If Scott had a hero, Dad was it. It was pretty understandable. After all, Dad had done so much and Scott had been there to see most of it.
Virgil's hero was Scott, but when it came to their father you could see the love and respect in those brown eyes. Different from the hero worship of Scott, but there was some kind of pedestal in that gaze, nonetheless.
John was John. He put everyone on an equal standing. Probably had something to do with looking down on everyone all day. And Dad was no different.
Gordon loved with everything he had. Dad was Dad and had to be admired, but there was no hero worship there. Just a kid and his father…who had come back from the dead.
And that was where Alan sat. He had been eleven when they had lost Dad. Still a kid. Still needing parents. His father was kind of a mysterious mish mash of memories, hopes and made up ideas.
But god he loved him so.
Today was one of the days where Dad was too tired to keep his eyes open. Alan had spent the last few minutes looking at the grey in his father's eyebrows and trying to remember what colour they had been.
Of course, he technically knew the colour. They had photos and holos after all, but the memories…trying to remember…
Eight years was ever so long.
Dad's arm lay above the covers. The other hand was snagged by an IV, but this one was free.
Gold glinted in the dim light.
Alan frowned. Dad was still wearing his wedding ring?
He bent over to look a little closer. The gold was covered in fine little scratches, but it still shone.
Wow.
On a whim, Alan lay his left hand next to the limp one on the covers.
Dad's was so much paler than his. Alan's skin was still the skin of youth, though it sported a few freckles. There was also a difference in shape. Dad's fingers were shorter and thicker, Alan's were long and thin, yet smaller.
If anything, Dad's hands reminded Alan of Virgil's.
Though ever so much paler.
A frown. There was something about discovering this tiny and mostly irrelevant piece of information. He didn't have his father's hands.
Yet Alan, even more than Scott or John, emulated their father in career. Dad was a space jockey.
Alan was a space jockey.
Perhaps he had worshipped his father as a guiding light more than he had thought.
The hand on the bed suddenly moved and gently caught Alan's fingers.
"Son?"
A blink at a pair of grey eyes peering up from him on the bed. "Hey, Dad."
"A penny for your thoughts?"
"Um, not a great deal, Dad." A smirk. "I thought you were a business man."
His father's lips twitched. "Do you have a counter offer."
"I'm considering it." But he only offered a smile.
His dad smiled ever so softly in return as he squeezed his fingers. "You've grown so much."
Alan snorted. "Uh, yeah, they kept feeding me and, uh, here we are." Another half-assed grin.
"Sorry I wasn't there."
The lump that immediately formed in Alan's throat nearly strangled him. He forced the words out. "Not your fault, Dad."
His hand was squeezed gently. "I'm still sorry."
"Dad-"
"I'm proud of you, son." His father's voice was rough. "You've grown into a fine young man. I can see it even now."
Again with the awkward rubbing of his neck. "Yeah, well, Scott sent me to bed on time and Virgil made sure I brushed my teeth."
There was a snort from the bed, followed by soft laughter.
Alan found himself smiling. John had helped him with his homework and Gordon…well, Gordon was Gordon, his partner in crime.
The smile became a grin. "Could have been worse."
Grey eyes stared up at him as his hand was squeezed again. "Yes. Yes, it could have been."
Alan bit his lip a moment before leaning in and gently wrapping his arms around his father's shoulders. "I'm so glad we've got you back, Dad. So glad."
Weak arms did their best to curl around him. "Wouldn't want to be anywhere else."
-o-o-o-