Authors Note: Many thanks to all those who reviewed. The feedback is very highly valued, I appreciate all the thoughts and comments of those reading. Thank you.
Chapter Two – Accidents Happen
There was a long pause, before anyone dared speak. Other spectators clamoured to see what was happening; the terrain obscuring their view.
"They're coming in, look!" Gordon eventually broke the silence. It seemed like an age had past before he pointed down to the stream of cars entering the pit lane.
"Where's Alan?" John asked. An unmistakable undercurrent of panic emitted in his tone of voice.
"He's not there!" Gordon exclaimed, further adding to John's worry.
"Whoa!" Scott called, placing a hand on both of their backs as he looked down to the pit lane himself. "Slow down guys! Let's not panic unnecessarily. It's a long track and they're still coming in, give the Kid some time to get round."
Silent, anxious minutes passed by, pregnant with anticipation. "He's not there." Gordon whispered shaking his head. "The blue one, number 43. He's missing too. He was right behind Al." Gordon turned wide eyes on his two elder brothers. "Permission to panic now?" John looked across at Gordon in admiration; he was clearly attempting to mask his anxiousness with humour.
John however was making no such effort. "Granted." He said stonily. "Scott what are we going to do?"
Scott swallowed. "Okay. John, you go and find Dad he should be in the bar. Gordon, you come with me." After sprinting across to the staircase, they went their separate ways. Gordon and Scott heading over to the track, whilst John hunted out their father. With all the commotion, the blonde brother doubted his would be a difficult task.
Commandeering a small four wheel drive vehicle Scott and Gordon made their way out onto the track, easily quashing any resistance Officials presented. They approached the coned off area that signified the accident scene.
"That's Alan's car!" Gordon took a deep breath as Scott pulled the vehicle to a halt. Not daring to look at the wreck. "Oh God!" Gordon groaned as he took in the smashed wing and back bumper. The whole car at the front was crumbled up like nothing more than a piece of paper. He didn't spare a glance to the other crumbled up piece of metal. Instead, his eyes were glued to the salvage sheet that had been laid over the roofs, preventing anyone from seeing in.
"You stay here." Scott ordered as he jumped out of the vehicle. Gordon didn't acknowledge the order. Despite his military experience, he had no intention of following his big brother's instructions. He followed Scott at a run, across to the flimsy orange cones that supported plastic 'Do Not Cross' emblazoned tape.
Scott went to duck underneath the tape; a hand on his shoulder stopped him. "I'm sorry Son." An old grey man was telling him. Scott glanced down the fluorescent jacket he wore to identify him as a marshal. "You can't go past there."
"My brother's in that car." Scott pointed to the remains of the red Ferrari. "I have to get through."
"I'm sorry Son." The man was saying again. "You can wait over there." He pointed to a nearby car, orange lights flashing on the top.
"No, I have to…" Scott trailed off as paramedics wheeled a body past them. A body completely covered by a white sheet.
He froze, fresh air no longer finding its way to his lungs, his heart rising to the back of his throat. "Oh my God." He whispered inaudibly, closing his eyes as his mind screamed out in outrage. As he opened his eyes again, his gaze drifted around the scene.
Suddenly, something caught his eye. His heart left his throat and welcome air filled his lungs. Two marshals in fluorescent jackets, matching that of the man stood before him ushered a reluctant figure away from the wreckage.
"Alan!" Scott cried as he ran over, Gordon hot on his heels. "Al!" Scott called again, as his youngest brother turned to face him.
"Scott!" A dazed young man walked unsteadily towards his brothers.
Scott sighed heartily as he pulled the young blonde man into a tight embrace.
"It's alright. It's okay." He could feel Alan's trembling body against his and rubbed his back soothingly. Placing gentle, comforting kisses in his brother's hair. For more than a few minutes he just held him tightly, reassuring himself as much as Alan that the younger man was okay. He had effectively brought Alan up and at times felt more like a father to him than an older brother. The relief he felt was complete. He glanced up to Gordon, whose features matched his own with relief.
A marshal handed over Alan's scuffed crash helmet and hood to which Gordon nodded curtly. The redhead took in a deep breath and desperately concentrated on what the marshal was saying. Before nodding at Scott's gesture to move Alan towards their commandeered vehicle.
"It's okay Al, you're alright." Scott pulled away from the embrace, dropping his hands to cup Alan's face. "Come on; let's get you out of here." He placed one arm around his brothers shaking shoulders as he guided him towards the waiting vehicle. Opening the passenger door, he ushered his youngest brother to sit down and knelt alongside him.
"Here." Gordon handed Scott a bottle of cooled water from the foot well, noticing just how red Alan was.
Scott nodded his thanks, flipping the top off and placing Alan's hands around it. "Drink some of this." He raised the bottle in Alan's hands to his brother's lips. "Come on Al, drink it. It'll help cool you down." He encouraged, but his brother remained in a daze like state; not moving or saying anything.
"What's wrong with him?" Gordon asked, alarmed. "Al, say something?" He squatted down next to Scott and reached a hand out to his younger brother's knee. "Jesus, you're shaking!"
"He's in shock." Scott told him, taking the water away from Alan's hands. "We need to get a Doctor to look at him, and find Dad too."
"That marshal said paramedics have checked him over and that he was okay, but we should probably take him to the Medical Unit." Gordon informed his older brother.
Alan mumbled something that caused Gordon and Scott to exchange looks, before looking down to their brother simultaneously.
"What was that Al?" Scott asked gently as two equally devastated blue orbs met his. He reached out to take Alan's hands in his own.
"I'm so sorry Scott." He whispered, gulping.
"Sorry?" Gordon frowned. "You've got nothing to be sorry for Alan."
"The… The car…" He trailed off, breathing unsteadily.
Scott reached forward to grasp his shoulder but the blonde man flinched away, the bruises already making themselves known. "We don't give a damn about the car Al, you're okay. That's all that matters." Scott told him firmly.
"But…" Alan paused, glancing up to both his brothers in turn. "The car… it… I'm so sorry Scott." He paused, his eyes suddenly widening. Almost as if he'd just noticed that Scott didn't have a clue what he was talking about. "Virgil!" He exclaimed. "I'm so sorry." He repeated, shaking more violently.
"Virgil?" Scott frowned, glancing at Gordon. He was suddenly concerned that Alan was concussed and endeavoured to clear his confusion. "Virgil's with Sam in the paddock waiting for you. Remember?"
"No." Alan whined, his eyes becoming moist. His lips trembled.
"No?" Gordon frowned, a questioning grin on his lips. The more he watched Alan's behaviour the more concerned he became. Alan wasn't normally one to let his emotions get the better of him, not like this anyway. He got angry, but never upset and definitely not in public. Nor, for that matter, in front of any of his older brothers. Such was his determination to prove his maturity. Gordon began to realise how serious this was, with a sudden sinking feeling in his gut.
Scott's frown was now fading fast, instead anxiousness settled across his features.
"Alan?" Scott questioned, his eyes becoming wide. "Alan what is it?" He took a few deep breaths to try to calm himself, but he couldn't help the dread circling in the pit of his stomach.
Gordon threw his oldest brother a questioning glance as Scott cupped Alan's face again. "Talk to me Al." He told his brother firmly, his eyes pleading for an answer. The thought of Alan being hurt was bad enough but Virgil too; the concept was unthinkable to Scott. "Where is he? Where's Virgil?"
"He told me…" Alan's breathing was becoming more haggard as he spoke. "He was… I never …"
"Al! Alan!" Scott tried to soothe him; rubbing his thumbs over his youngest brothers hands were he now clutched them. "It's alright, calm down. Just take a few deep breaths. It's okay." He paused, eyes glancing up at Gordon and failing to conceal his anxiety. "Where is he?"
Alan took several more haggard, deep breaths before any reply came. "I'm so sorry Scott…" He snivelled, his eyes becoming moist again. "He was in the car, and he never got out."
Scott froze; the image of those paramedics pushing a corpse passed flew into his thinking. Replaying itself without mercy. He refocused, pushing the image away along with the thoughts his overactive imagination was providing. He studied his youngest brother, eyes filled with tears that were more than ready to fall. Alan still shook violently and now the pure, unadulterated fear that covered his features broke Scott's heart.
"In the car?" Scott questioned urgently, needing conformation. "Alan?" He prompted when no reply came quickly enough.
Alan sobbed a muffled reply as he dropped his head, flopping forward until his head rested against Scott's chest. Horrified at the revelation, Scott automatically brought his arms up to embrace his youngest brother. His eyes roved the wreckage of both cars as the thoughts he had pushed back before returned with vengeance. Gordon's hand on his shoulder served as a reminder of his presence.
"They took a body out. A dead body." Gordon swallowed, his eyes searching Scott's for some kind of assurance.
"I know." The low response came as he forced Alan into Gordon's arms. "Get him checked out by a doctor." Scott stood, swallowing and allowing the mask of indifference to slip into place. He began to walk away, ignoring Gordon's cries.
"Scott!" "Scott where are you going?" "Scott come back!"
The run across to the shell of the cars was a blur to Scott. He had only one thing on his mind; to get to his brother. Jumping the tape and cones, he approached the area the salvage sheet covered. He was just in time to see a stretcher lowered through the window. Its contents though deadly still, was strapped securely to an orange plastic backboard, head and neck immobilised.
"Easy!" One paramedic was calling as he guided the unit safely away from the wreckage, waving his hand and gesturing to continue the movement. Eventually eight pairs of hands grasped the board, guiding it until it rested on a waiting stretcher.
"Virgil." Scott's heart thumped against his chest, echoing in his ears. His whispered words went unheard in the chaos. His movement ceased as the sight before his eyes slowly infiltrated his brain.
"Virgil!" The shout came out in a higher pitch then he'd intended. The panic he'd previously concealed suddenly came to the surface as he ran across to the stretcher.
"Whoa, slow down there mate." Suddenly another marshal was stood in front of him. A hand on either shoulder; steadfastly stopping him in his quest. "How did you get through the cordon?" He frowned.
Scott tried to push past him, but his attempts were unsuccessful. "He's my brother!" Scott explained. "Let me through!"
"I'm sorry Sir, but I can't let you through." The marshal frowned sympathetically. "Look, why don't you go and wait over there." He pointed to where Gordon still had his arms wrapped around Alan, perched in the waiting four-wheel drive vehicle. Other official cars loitered in the area.
"Is he alright?" Scott persisted, still trying to push passed. He managed to catch a glimpse as paramedics rolled his brother towards a waiting ambulance. "Can't I go with him?"
"I'm sorry son, he's in good hands." Scott felt the marshal squeeze his shoulder slightly. "Listen, they'll take him over to Area 39, it's the assigned Medical Unit." He paused; wanting to be sure the information was sinking in. "You need to head over there. Okay?"
Scott nodded. "Thank you." Turning he jogged over to where John had joined Gordon, noting a second vehicle parked nearby and his father getting out.
As he approached, his father walked to meet him. "Scott?" Scott fell in step with his father walking by his side. "How's the car?" Scott frowned at the question, surprised that something as material as a car rated so highly on his father's list of priorities in such a situation.
"The car?" Scott shook his head. "I've no idea. It's just a car."
Jeff harrumphed, shaking his head. "A marshal told Sam it looks like it's the transmission again. Damn thing! He told Alan to go easy but I'll bet he was pushing it, you know what he's like…" Scott suddenly realised that his father must not realise the severity of the situation. "More expense! I wonder how much this one'll cost…"
"Dad!" Scott placed a hand on his father's arm, preventing them from walking any further. Jeff faced his son; surprised by the sudden contact he looked at Scott expectantly. "I don't think you realise how serious this is."
Jeff frowned to look up to his oldest son. "Alan's okay isn't he?" He glanced across to where John and Gordon tried to restrain the young man, who was gesturing to Scott and attempting to break free.
"Err." Scott coughed, clearing his suddenly dry throat. "Yeah, yeah. He's shaken up but he's okay." He paused. "Dad," He bit his lip and swallowed hard, unsure how to break the news to his father. "Virgil was in the car."
Jeff's head snapped up, eyes wide. "What?" He swung round to look at the remains of the cars. "How? What the hell was he doing?" Scott shrugged indicative that he didn't know. "Is he alright? Where is he now?" Jeff glanced to where the others stood, searching for his second eldest son.
"I don't know Dad; they wouldn't let me anywhere near him. They're taking him to Area 39, we need to get there." Scott began walking away, knowing his father would follow.
Area 39 amounted to a paddock that had been converted into a makeshift first aid centre. Scott opened the door with a forceful bang as he hurried in. "Gordon, John." He turned to his brothers, stood behind him supporting Alan. "Make sure he gets checked out, will you?"
"Sure." John nodded, assuming control as he and Gordon led their younger brother away. "Let us know about Virgil, as soon as, okay?"
Scott agreed, noting that despite the ease with which John obeyed Scott's instructions, his eyes illustrated that he was far from happy at the situation.
By the time Scott had ensured Alan was going to be taken care of medically, Jeff had already intercepted a medic and was being led to his second eldest son. Scott hurried to his side.
They were led to a curtained off area as the medic, a young nurse, explained the situation. "The Doctor's with him now. He wants to send him to hospital just to be on the safe side, that was a nasty smash. We're just waiting on an ambulance." She paused. "If you'll just wait here. I'll see if the Doctor's finished." She disappeared in a split between the curtains and reappeared a few minutes later, an older man in tow.
"Mr Tracy." He held out a hand, which Jeff shook before turning to Scott. "And you must be Alan."
Scott coughed. "Err, no. I'm Scott, I'm his brother."
The Doctor scratched his chin, pressing along his white moustache. "Oh, funny I'm sure he said… never mind." He frowned.
"Is he all right Doctor?" Jeff frowned, his concern more than showing.
"Well, he was unconscious at the scene so I'm recommending he go to A and E. I believe he may have a hairline fracture to his left wrist." Again, he pressed his moustache smoothly. "Quite a few severe bruises, mostly instigated by the seat belt restraints. I am slightly concerned that he may have cracked a rib or two, his ribs and abdomen are particularly badly bruised."
"He is conscious now though?" Scott asked.
"Oh yes." The white haired Doctor nodded. "Yes, but he's not completely coherent. Feel free to go in and sit with him. Due to the limited resources here, I haven't been able to rule out a spinal injury. Though I think it unlikely, I haven't removed the restraints."
That was all Scott needed to hear. As his father continued to talk to the doctor, he slipped between the curtains. Scott frowned as he walked round to his brothers left side. Virgil's eyes were closed; his neck immobilised due to the cervical collar, and tape across his forehead prevented his head from moving. A thin blanket rested over the restraints that held him to the brightly coloured backboard securely. Scott hesitantly reached a hand out to his brother's shoulder as he looked up for any sign of movement. When none came, he placed his other hand on Virgil's forehead, weaving over the tape.
"Virgil?" His tone remained soft; his eyes glued to his brothers closed lids expectant of some kind of acknowledgement. He remembered the doctor's words; 'not completely coherent.'
Virgil blinked his eyes open cautiously. "Hey." He smiled, allowing his eyelids to close of their own accord again.
"Hey." Scott smiled down softly. "You all right?" He was more relieved by that one word then he would ever be prepared to admit.
Virgil tried to nod out of habit however, the tape and cervical collar prevented him and he blinked again. "Yeah." He swallowed, moistening his lips. "How's Al?"
"The doctor's looking at him now. He's worried about you, we all are but I think he's just shaken up." Scott frowned as Virgil's eyes closed again.
He coughed slightly. "He's not the only one." The younger man smiled. "I couldn't sign my name straight right now."
Scott laughed at the comment, causing his brother to wince. "Sorry." Scott apologised. "Headache?" He enquired.
"Yeah." Virgil looked up to his brother uncomfortably, finding the bodily restraint awkward. "A bit."
"Are you in pain anywhere else?" Scott asked, suddenly aware that his brother might be concealing just how injured he was.
Virgil moistened his lips again, allowing his eyes to close once more. "I'm okay Scott, I've had worse."
"Yeah when?" Scott frowned. Not at all liking the frequency with which his brother's eyes were drifting closed.
"Hey, I survived god knows how many summers with you in Kansas didn't I?" Virgil joked.
"Virg…" Scott squeezed his brother's shoulder slightly.
"Argh!" Virgil groaned as a result.
"Sorry!" Scott instantly withdrew his grip, realising the pain he was inflicting on his brothers abused shoulder. "Do you want me to get a doctor?"
"No." Virgil recognized the reply came too soon. "It's alright; they've done everything they can."
Scott's frown deepened at his brothers exhausted tone of voice. "How bad is it really?" He asked softly, reaching down to Virgil's uninjured hand. He stopped short of reaching out for it, satisfied to rest his hand nearby.
Virgil swallowed, his eyes blinking heavily once more. "The headache's not bad; it's the ribs that hurt the most."
"Safety harness?" Scott asked.
Virgil moistened his lips again, "Yeah."
Scott opened his mouth to reply but halted as their father made an appearance.
"Virgil," He looked down to his son, a frown of sympathy playing on his tired features. "How are you son?"
Virgil opened his eyes briefly, "I've been better but I'm alright."
"Do you remember what happened?" Virgil cracked his eyes open at the question as if it was something he hadn't thought of before.
"I err…" He coughed uncomfortably. "I told him to change down for the corner." Scott exchanged concerned glances with their father as Virgil paused to allow his eyes to close and swallow again. "Then we were spinning, I … I remember … we were spinning really fast." He frowned as if trying to recollect the details. "We must have hit something on Alan's side …" He looked across to Scott, who nodded that his assumption was correct. From the damage to the car it was evident they'd spun. "The impact must've flipped us out, because we were slowing down…" He added thoughtfully, he looked up to see expectant faces. "The err, the blue one, Mark, he'd been too close all the way round. Right on Al's tail. He was coming right at us." He paused again looking up to his father and Scott, before his vision settled back on Jeff. "He hit us, didn't he?"
Jeff nodded gently, lowering his head. "Yes Son, he did."
"Do you remember anything else?" Scott asked, Virgil had to smile at the concern in his eyes. No matter how he tried to hide how he felt sometimes his eyes always betrayed him.
"No." Virgil told him after a short pause to consider his options; he wasn't ready to talk about the rest just yet. "I guess I must have passed out." He sighed, if he could have shaken his head in exasperation he would have. However, he could only settle for hoping that his deceit wasn't too obvious. "He was so close to Alan's tail, I'll bet he didn't even have chance to react!" Virgil cursed. It took Scott a few minutes to figure out he was referring to the driver of the blue car.
"You mean Mark Jamison, Son?" Jeff asked solemnly.
"Yeah." Virgil swallowed again, closing his eyes once more. Jeff looked across to Scott questioningly, as if to ask if this fatigue was normal. No answer came though; in fact, Scott's eyes mirrored his. "He was too close." Virgil paused. "He was doing it on purpose." He continued before Jeff or Scott could speak. "Trying to intimidate Al, he's jealous of him. You'd love him Scott." Virgil growled, opening his eyes to take in the dual solemn expressions from his older brother and father. "What?" He frowned but his illusion had been shattered and somehow he already knew what was coming.
"Virgil," Jeff began. "Mark Jamison is dead, son."
Virgil's expression faded slowly. "Dead?"
"He was killed in the crash Virg." Scott told his brother softly, his hand reaching ever fractionally closer to his brother's.
"Killed?" Virgil struggled with the information. He sighed, closing his eyes as the shock really began to sink in. Despite what had happened after the impact, he'd still managed to convince himself that if he could have survived, Mark could have too. Deep down though, he had to admit, he'd always known. He looked up to Scott, "You said Al was okay."
Scott shook his head. "He's just a bit shaken up that's all." When Virgil frowned and opened his mouth to reply, Scott continued. "He doesn't know about Mark."
Virgil sighed deeply and then winced as his ribs protested.
"Hey, you alright?" Scott frowned; he moved his hand intent on grasping his brothers. However, Virgil's eyes opened and Scott stopped, leaving his hand hovering in mid air.
"Yeah, yeah." Virgil breathed heavily; meeting both the concerned glances he was faced with. "Just my ribs are a bit sore that's all." He explained, brushing their concern off.
"What were you doing in the car anyway son?" Jeff asked after a long pause.
"It was only the warm up; I was helping him with the gears. Alan said he wanted me to talk him through it, there's a hair pin corner a bit further round. He was worried he was losing time because he was changing down too soon." Virgil told them. "Alan's not going to take it well." Virgil predicted glancing up at Scott, as best he could when he couldn't move his head or shoulders to turn in his brother's direction.
"Are you going to be okay if Scott goes with you to the hospital? I want to make sure Alan's okay and we need to make arrangements for the car. I think the news about Mark would be better coming from me." Jeff glanced up to Scott for conformation that he agreed.
"We'll be fine Dad." Scott urged. "You stay with Al." Eager to remain with Virgil, and for his father not to insist on their roles being reversed.
"Are you okay with that Virgil?" Jeff queried, looking down at his injured son with a frown.
"Sure Dad." Came the bleary reply, once again Virgil's eyes closed automatically.
"Don't worry Father," Scott assured him. "I'll take care of him." Virgil opened his eyes long enough to let them role back into his head at Scott's predictable response.
Another head appeared between the flimsy curtains that privatised the small areas.
"Hi, my name's Kelly. I'm a paramedic; we're going to take you to hospital." She smiled at Virgil before looking up at Scott immediately raising her eyebrows flirtatiously.
Jeff smiled down to his second eldest son, he placed a hand on Virgil's shoulder. "Son," Along with an accompanying wince, it had the desired effect; Virgil looked up to him. "Are you sure you're going to be alright?"
Virgil smiled tiredly. "I'll be fine Dad."
Jeff smiled hesitantly as another paramedic appeared and went about the task of pushing Virgil towards the waiting ambulance. Jeff watched on as Scott kept pace with the travelling stretcher, chatting amicably with the paramedic's though the frown of concern didn't leave his features. Sighing himself, Jeff went in search of his youngest son.
XxxxX
"Don't go to sleep." Virgil could hear the anxiousness in the tone. "You heard what that paramedic said." Scott warned him. Virgil had no doubt that should he work up the energy and courage needed to open his eyes, his brother would be giving him a familiar frown of concern.
The journey to the hospital had been uneventful for Scott, however Virgil was already fed up of being prodded and pocked in painful areas. They'd eventually been left in an area not dissimilar to the one at Area 39. Only this time they knew the curtained off square belonged in the A and E department of an actual hospital, not a shabbily kept, oily floored paddock.
"I'm not asleep." Virgil told him, not even attempting to open his eyes to prove it to his brother.
"Open your eyes then." Scott persisted.
Virgil sighed, before screwing his face up against the movement to his abused ribs. "I can't." He admitted softly. Scott's frown of concerned had turned to one of sympathy as he watched his brother wince with every movement that caused him pain. However, on hearing those words it was back to alarmed concerned.
"What do you mean you can't?" He asked, his shocked eyes riveted to his brothers. Almost as if he could see through the lids and read the soft brown eyes that lay beneath as easily as he normally would.
"Scott." Virgil swallowed, summoning all his patience. "The room's spinning. Believe me, if I open my eyes I will be sick."
Scott opened his mouth to retaliate but before he had chance, the curtains parted and a man and a woman walked in.
"Good Afternoon, Mr Tracy. My name is Dr Williams and this is Molly. We'll be taking care of you." He held out his hand expectedly as the young woman passed him a clipboard. He took out a pair of glasses from the top pocket of his stark, white coat and placed them at the end of his nose. Reading over the information carefully, before looking down to Virgil who cautiously opened his eyes. "Well you have been in the wars." Dr Williams smiled as he reached out to feel along Virgil's jaw line. "Any dizziness or nausea?"
Virgil swallowed, blinking tiredly. "Yeah, both."
"Ah ha," The doctor hand a held out to Molly. "Pencil light." She passed it to him accordingly and Scott began to wonder if she was a nurse or just the Doctors assistant.
Meanwhile Dr Williams was continuing in his evaluation. "Close your eyes." He told Virgil as he leaned over him. He attempted to prize one of his patient's eyes open but the tense muscles reacted. "Just relax." He said in a surprisingly soothing tone as he shone the light into Virgil's eyes.
"Hmm, no sign of any significant head trauma." He spoke to himself, as the light was discarded and he reached through the gaps in the cervical collar to press around Virgil's neck with his cold hands. "Were you wearing a crash helmet?"
"Yeah." Virgil's answer just came as he hit a soft spot and he sucked in a breath, the doctor pulled back to look down at his immobilised patient.
"Is that sore?"
"It aches, but I ache everywhere." Virgil told him truthfully.
Dr Williams nodded. A small smirk on his features. "Okay," He moved down Virgil's body to his collarbone, pressing against the bruises as again, Virgil recoiled. In response Dr Williams pulled down the collar of the thin t-shirt Virgil wore to get a better look.
"Hmm, looks like the restraints held you in place pretty firmly." He surmised as he eyed the angry bruising that had already formed dark red marks. He let go of the collar and took the hem of the shirt, pushing it up to reveal yet more bruises. Scott creased his brow in disgust; an X shape of bruising had formed across his brother's chest where the seatbelt harness had proved effective. Across Virgil's shoulders and the top of his chest and abdomen, the red patches had already darkened to form solid bruising. As the doctor reached out and applied gentle pressure to the damaged skin and battered ribs, Scott watched his brother grimace with every painful touch the examination inflicted.
"Well," Dr Williams positioned himself so that Virgil could see him. "It seems to me that you've got some severe bruising here but I can't feel any breaks. We'll get some X-rays done just to be sure." He nodded to Molly, who obediently wrote the information down. "I'm just going to check that there isn't any internal bleeding in your abdomen."
Again, Scott watched as Virgil's face contorted. Though this time it was the discomfort not the pain that was the cause. He glanced sympathetically up to his brother but stood at the foot of the bed and due to the restrictions; Virgil couldn't see him.
When Virgil drew in a short, sharp breath, Dr Williams ordered Molly to fetch a machine, which to Scott looked like an ultrasound. He glanced around, conscious of the fact that he could do nothing to help. He merely watched as Virgil's shirt was pushed up further and the racing suit he still wore lowered for access to the abdomen. The machine seemed to run smoothly over the gel covered area and soon enough it was bleeping and spewing out paper accordingly. Taking the reading and in turn looking at the information gathered on the computerised flip screen, Dr Williams turned to face Virgil's chin.
"Well, there doesn't seem to be any internal bleeding, but I'd like to run those scans anyway and an X-ray of the left wrist." Molly, who Scott noted hadn't spoken, wrote hurriedly on the clipboard before nodding and disappearing.
With Molly's exit, Scott moved closer to his brother. Watching as Dr Williams removed the plastic gloves he wore with a snap. He looked down to see Virgil's eyes had closed again. "Can you give him anything for the pain Doctor? Or the dizziness?" Scott asked.
Dr Williams turned back. "When we get the results of the scans back I'll administer some pain medication. If the dizziness hasn't improved, I could give him a mild sedative but it'd knock him out for a while. Anyhow, I want to rule out any further injuries before I do that."
Scott's eyes widened. "Further injuries? You think there could be something else wrong?"
"No, not at all." Doctor Williams replied steadily. "I just want to make sure, it's merely a precaution."
As he turned to leave Molly reappeared. "The scanner's free now, so I'll just clean you up and I'll take you down."
Virgil opened his eyes to see Scott looking anxiously down at him. He felt cold hands at work removing the gel with a paper towel and pulling his shirt back down. "Will you call Dad? Find out how Alan's doing?" Scott looked down at his brother.
It was rare he ever denied Virgil anything; he just simply couldn't refuse his mother on the outside and his best friend on the inside. He sighed, truly, the thought had crossed his mind to ring and see what was happening. Nevertheless, he wasn't too confident about leaving his brother alone.
Virgil obviously sensed that. "I'll be fine; I just want to make sure he's okay." Virgil's closed eyes told his brother.
Scott nodded, looking up to Molly he asked. "How long will these scans take?"
"About twenty minutes." She replied curtly. "There's a café, if you go through reception and turn right."
Virgil cracked an eye open. "Call Dad, then go and get a coffee."
Scott smirked at his words, was his brother trying to order him around? He grinned slightly; ever since their childhood, they had made a formidable team. Mainly due to the fact that whatever instruction Scott gave, he could always rely on his brother to see it through. Not to mention the fact that they had both tried hard together to fill the gap their mother left. Of course, they could never fully succeed.
Scott nodded mutely as a few other bodies appeared and Virgil was rolled away. He headed outside to call his father.
"Scott, what's wrong?" The reply was instant; he'd barely listened to a single ring of the videophone.
Scott was taken aback by the sudden answer and the unusual unease in his father's tone of voice. "Nothing Dad." He reassured him. "Nothing's wrong, they've just taken Virgil for some scans. How's Al?"
Jeff sighed, the tension in his body leaving him all at once. "The Doctor looked him over. Said its mostly bruising, his chest from the seatbelt and his shoulder. He felt a bit faint earlier so John and Gordon have taken him back to the hotel. He needs to rest."
Scott nodded. "Did you tell him about Mark?" He enquired cautiously.
Jeff sighed again. "Yeah. Yeah, I did. He didn't take it too well. Gordon was there, thank goodness." Jeff kneaded his eyes. "He won't admit it, he's pretending he's okay but I think he feels responsible."
Scott nodded, and then took to shaking his head solemnly. "I can't believe all this has happened. To think, either of them could've been killed too." He paused. "We could have lost them Dad."
"I know Scott, but we can't dwell on it. We have to focus on the here and now. Alan's shaken up and upset but we'll get through it." Jeff said determinedly. "How's Virgil?"
"Well, they're taken him for these scans and an X-ray of his wrist and ribs. The doctor seemed to think it was mostly bruising. It's bad though, you should the mess those restraints have made; he's got bruises all the way across his chest." Scott paused, thinking. "What I don't get is why Virgil's needs to come here and get checked out yet Al's okay, it makes me nervous."
"Alan says Virgil told him to get out once the car started to slow down from the spin. Alan jumped, but from what I can gather Virgil didn't." Jeff informed his oldest son.
"That was a mighty brave thing for Alan to do." Scott thought aloud. "Is that how he hurt his shoulder?" When Jeff nodded, Scott went on. "And that's why Virgil's more bruised then he is. Do they know what happened yet?"
"Sam's here now." Jeff replied in answer to the question. "He says he checked out everything he can think of that would cause a spin like that. Tyres were a – okay, what's left of the brakes weren't faulty. He seems to think that somehow the car selected second, not fourth but there's no way of checking. The car's so badly smashed up at the front and side that there's no way we can jack it up and get a good look. Not safely."
"Could it be the transmission that's the fault? I mean it's not like we haven't had problems with it before." Scott suggested.
"I know, but it's only just been rebuilt Scott. And not just by anyone either. Ferrari US did all the work; they should know what they're doing."
Scott's eyes became narrow. "What are you saying Dad? Are you seriously considering the idea that Alan could have put the car in second?"
Jeff shrugged. "I don't know Scott. We just have to wait and see what the crash investigation team say. Whatever the outcome, somebody died today and there's going to be serious repercussions." He paused. "The crash investigation is already underway. I managed to convince them Virgil and Alan weren't in any fit state to be interviewed."
"Whoa! Hold on a minute." Scott's eyes widened. "But it was an accident, why the investigation?"
"Scott," Jeff lowered his tone. "Whenever there's a death on the track there's a mandatory investigation, there may even be an inquest. Somebody was responsible for this and the Jamison family have already made it perfectly clear that they want justice."
"How do you mean?" Scott frowned, intrigued by that comment.
"I mean, Mark's brother has already torn a strip off Sam, claiming he was incompetent." He shook his head. "This isn't going to go away Scott and it isn't going to be pretty either."