Authors Note: Just to say a bit thank you and to all the people who have left a review or emailed me personally. The encouragement and support I have received so far, has been invaluable. I appreciate everyone's suggestions and thoughts on my writing; so please continue to let me know your opinions. Thank you.
Chapter Ten – Lashing Out
The atmosphere in the room was strained to say the least. Pleasant but forced conversation broke up the meaningful, sympathetic stares Alan could feel all around him. As a result, he felt claustrophobic and irascible.
The food had only just been warm when it had arrived but now, as Alan pushed it around his paper plate, it was most definitely cold. He could feel Gordon watching his every movement and knew his brother was becoming more and more worried about him. He chose to ignore it, along with the other concerned glances, for the sake of his sanity.
"They must know by now, if there's a fault with the car." John was saying, as Alan re-tuned into the pointless conversation. "I don't understand why they can't just tell you."
Sam sighed. "I wish they would. If I just knew what was wrong with it, if it was something that I could have stopped from happening or if it was my fault."
"It wasn't your fault Sam." Scott was quick to point out. "We all know that you would never have let the car out, if there'd been the slightest doubt in your mind that it wasn't fit to race."
Sam shrugged. "That's the point Scott, maybe I should have had doubts. I wish Kenny had been here."
"You're a perfectly competent mechanic Sam. Virgil's right, there was absolutely nothing wrong with that car when it lined up and you know that just as well as the rest of us." Scott argued.
"Maybe, but those investigators… they're damned good, Scott. They made me feel as if I was the chief suspect in a murder investigation or something." At that comment, Scott looked across to where Alan sat. Wondering if that's why he was so reluctant to talk about his interview. He watched his youngest brother as he deliberately avoiding looking up and meeting his gaze. Sam continued. "As if it was all my responsibility, I mean those interviews are pretty intense." He shook his head. "You'd better warn Virgil. John said he looked awful earlier, how is he?"
"Okay," Scott reached forward to top his glass up before sitting back in his chair. "He's just exhausted that's all. He needs a good nights rest." He was unsurprised to see Gordon staring at him, as if asking a silent question. "I'll talk to him." Gordon nodded imperceptibly at the whispered answer to his unspoken question.
"What'll happen on Wednesday?" John asked.
Scott shrugged. "I presume we'll go and they'll read out their report."
"Like a press conference or a court?" Sam asked.
Scott shrugged again. "I don't know, I wouldn't think it'll be as formal as a courtroom. I guess Dad would know."
"Did they say anything to you Al?" John asked, glancing up at his brother from his own chair. When no reply came, he repeated the question. "Al?"
Alan looked up, biting down his temper at the four sets of eyes that stared at him anxiously. "Sorry what?" He ground out.
He saw Scott look to Gordon out the corner of his eye, feeling the irritation and frustration build inside. He gulped it down though, trying to focus on John.
"I was just asking if they explained what would happen on Wednesday?" John asked, sipping at the glass in his hand.
"No," Alan swallowed. "No, they didn't say anything to me."
"What nothing at all?" Gordon asked, frowning.
"I said no, didn't I?" Alan snapped again. "Can't we talk about something else?" He looked away obviously distressed at the topic of conversation. At the same time, fully aware that his outbursts would only worsen the stares of sympathy and pity.
"Well, at least it actually feels likes we're in England now." Gordon stretched out, sighing. On realising he was the recipient of several questioning gazes, he continued. "It's raining." He stated. "Now, who said it would rain whilst we were here? I'm sure somebody said something about a bet…" He stroked his chin, feigning memory loss. "Oh that's right!" He exclaimed. "Me! I said it would rain and yet again, I was right." He grinned at his elder brothers and Sam as they shook their heads.
"I'll tell you something else as well," Sam leaned forward to push his plate alongside the crumbled pizza boxes. "Jim was right about those pizzas, they were good! Better than that hotel food at lunchtime." He pulled a face, indicating his distain.
Scott laughed. "I guess I should be pleased I skipped breakfast then." He commented.
"Actually Scott," John told him gleefully. "Breakfast was the best meal they've served all day. You really missed out, didn't he Gords?"
"Yeah." Gordon tried to sound as if he knew what they were talking about. In truth though, he was too busy not so covertly watching Alan. "It was good." He said vaguely.
"Good!" Crowed Sam. "It was great; you can't beat a full English breakfast in England." He frowned. "But then, that kind of makes sense doesn't it?" He laughed. "Your Dad seemed to enjoy it, I guess that's where you lot get your appetites from."
John smirked. "There's nothing wrong with having a healthy appetite. Grandma says that."
"Say, how is your Grandma? I haven't seen her since the last time she came to see Virg." Sam asked, shaking his head at the fond memory.
"And when was that?" Gordon smirked. "Last week, knowing Grandma!" He grinned. "I'm sure pleased she can't come visit me any time she damned well pleases. There are advantages to being in the Services don't you think Scott?"
Scott had to grin in amusement but shook his head too. "Gordon, have some respect. She means well."
"Are you seriously trying to tell me that you're not even a little eeny weenie teeny bit pleased," Gordon held his thumb and finger apart slightly as he pulled a disbelieving expression at his oldest brother. "That she can't just turn up at whatever base you're stationed at. I know I sure as hell am." Gordon grinned again. "Though, actually I think she might be quite impressed with my quarters." He exclaimed. "I can just see her trying to force feed a whole crew though!" He breathed in a sharp breath, whistling it out.
Sam laughed at the way Gordon played on his older brother's serious side. "You make her out to be some kind of tyrant." Sam shook his head. "I didn't think she was really that bad. In fact I thought she was great, I loved her."
John sat up in alarm. "That does it!" He said suddenly. "Virgil must be taking in random old ladies, because the woman you've met is obviously not our Grandmother."
"Aw John." Gordon shook his head. "You've got my condolences bro, it's you next." He reached out a hand to John's shoulder, grasping it with a clap and shaking his own head sadly.
"Alright, alright!" Scott shook his head. "That's enough about Grandma!" He smiled humorously.
"Aw come on Scott!" Gordon purred. "You know we're only joking. We love her really."
"Yeah well, show some respect then." Scott told them. "We've got a lot to thank Grandma for, especially you three." Gordon was silenced immediately. When John bowed his head suddenly feeling guilty, Scott knew he'd made his point. They were only joking, he understood that and he couldn't help but feel slightly guilty himself. Their grandmother was a wonderful woman and had played a big part in their lives since their mother's death. However, Scott knew just as well as the others that she could, at times, be a little overwhelming.
He changed the subject, before Gordon could make another clever comment. "Is there some of that left for Dad?" He gestured to the pizza boxes.
"Yep." John sighed. "I couldn't eat another thing."
"Me too." Gordon released a dual sigh. "I'm stuffed." He glanced across to the sole slice of pizza that Alan relentlessly played with. "Do you want that Al?"
Alan looked startled by the question but managed a distracted "No." Before handing the plate over to his brother.
Quick to divert attention from his youngest brother's distant mood, Scott turned to Sam. "I still owe you that drink Sam." He said conversationally.
"Don't worry about it." The mechanic shrugged. "We'll do it some other time." He said unperturbed. "Unless you want to go now?" He asked, suddenly considering the fact that Scott might want a break from the intensity of the current situation and might actually be looking for an escape.
"No, not tonight." Scott shook his head. "I'd rather stay here. I don't want to leave Dad with Virgil all night." Scott paused. "If that's okay with you?" He added quickly.
"Yeah, of course. I figured you'd say that." Sam smiled. "Actually, I don't mind at all. I think I'm doing okay without the Scott Tracy Guide to Woman at the minute." Scott smirked at his sarcasm.
"Virgil is okay though, isn't he Scott?" Gordon asked anxiously but Scott was more than aware that the youngest of his brothers was all also staring up at him awaiting an answer.
"Yeah, yeah." Scott tried to sound as casual as possible. "He'll be fine. I'd just rather not leave him on his own or at the mercy of Dad, that's all." He wasn't so sure it was the truth. But he refused to force extra worry onto his youngest brothers when he knew they had enough on their plate already.
John sighed. "Yeah, Dad." He said ominously. "He's been getting awfully stressed these last two days. He's been running around trying to get the car organised and worrying about Virg and you, Al."
"Yeah, poor Dad." Gordon agreed. "So much for a relaxing, stress free weekend."
"Meaning?" Alan asked, heatedly.
"He just meant Dad's been stressed, that's all Al." Scott tried to calm the situation before his youngest brother exploded, which he could see was fast becoming an inevitability.
"What? And you think I haven't been stressed?" Alan snapped, suddenly furious at what he saw as a snipe.
"Al calm down, we're all stressed." John pointed out softly.
"Hmm, yeah." Alan grumbled; looking away as various concerned gazes at his irritability passed around him and over his head. He sat there, his temper reaching new heights and fast approaching the end of his short fuse. Just like a time bomb, the explosion was inevitable. It was more a question of when, and who the casualties would be.
"You know what?" Sam said, stretching and yawning exaggeratedly. "It's been a tough day, what with all those interviews and everything, huh Al?" Sam smiled, but no reply came. He glanced across at Scott before continuing. "I think I'm going to catch an early one. Are you coming Scott?"
"Yeah, sure." He smiled, standing up from his seat. "I told Dad I wouldn't be long anyway." He glanced at his watch. "We should be getting back. Night."
Sam followed suit, getting to his feet and following as Scott headed for the door. Glancing at Gordon, John got up too. "Night guys." Sam called. Gordon returned the call but Alan said nothing, preferring to stew in his silence.
John sighed as he walked with Scott and Sam through the small corridor to the door. "What's the matter with him?" He growled.
"Those interviews were pretty tough going John." Sam said sadly. "They would have been hard on him."
"Sam's right." Scott agreed as they stepped outside and John swung on the door as he had done the previous night. "The Kid's upset; we should cut him some slack."
"Easier said than done." John raised his eyebrows. "He did blow up over nothing in there Scott."
"Yeah well, I can't imagine how he's feeling right now. He wouldn't talk to me or Dad earlier; I just hope Gordon can get through to him." Scott sighed again; he placed a hand on Sam's shoulder. "I know those interviews were tough and I know Alan'll take it personally. We can't really blame him for being upset, or angry."
"Hmm." John nodded sceptically. "But he should realise, we're all trying to help him Scott."
"Yeah, well he's not the only one." Scott muttered cryptically.
"Don't worry; I'll keep an eye on him." John assured his older brother. "Gordon will make sure he's okay. I'll see you at breakfast in the morning."
"Yeah." Scott smiled. "From what I hear it's not something I want to miss out on. Night John."
"Yeah Night." Sam called as they began walking away. John's reply was drowned out as Sam slung a lazy arm around the eldest Tracy brother's neck and spoke enthusiastically. "That breakfast is to die for, Virgil is going to love it."
The conversation trailed off as John closed the door and headed back to where he could hear his youngest brothers talking urgently.
"Don't." Alan snapped. John watched as Gordon moved to sit alongside his youngest brother and Alan continued to shrug off the comforting arm he tried to provide.
"What is it?" Gordon asked, settling to sit alongside him.
"I don't want to talk about it." Came the terse reply.
"I thought we had a promise, that when you needed to talk you would." Gordon said gently, glancing up at Alan's stony face.
"What makes you so sure I need to talk about anything?" Alan persisted.
"Al, you've hardly said a word all night. You wanted pizza and then didn't eat any of it, you snapped at me, and Scott." Gordon sighed. "I know the interview must've been tough today."
"Don't pretend you know anything." Alan spat, standing up furiously. He began to walk towards the corridor where John was currently concealed. However, he remembered that his older brothers were there blocking his escape route.
"Don't run off like this!" Gordon called, getting to his feet. "Where are you going?"
"I need some fresh air." Alan seemed to glance longingly at the corridor before spying another route of escape.
"It's raining!" Gordon pointed out, beginning to get frustrated.
"Well I'll get wet then!" Alan snarled. He pushed his way past his brother and out onto the balcony, slamming the glass door shut behind him.
Gordon went to follow, surprised when a hand on his shoulder made him jump. "John!"
"Sorry, I didn't mean to make you jump." The blonde apologised.
"I thought you were with Scott and Sam." Gordon waved a nondescript hand. "Have they gone?"
"I was and yeah, they've gone." John said quietly as both of their gazes returned to Alan's now silhouetted form in the rain outside. Gordon went to walk towards the door. "Leave him." John increased his grip. "Just give him some time to cool off. He can't stay out there all night; he'll come back inside eventually. I'll bet he's soaked already."
Gordon sighed. "You know better then that John. He's so stubborn; if he's left to his own devices he'll probably catch pneumonia." Gordon groaned in frustration, reaching a hand up to run over his hair in irritation. He began to pace as his hands fell to his face. "I thought he was doing alright John." He shook his head. "It's like this interview has just taken him right back to square one."
John shrugged. "Sam said it was tough. I don't think we can really grasp how tough or just what he's feeling right now. No matter how you look at it, he was driving that car and he was responsible for Virgil's safety. Now Virgil's hurt and another guy's dead, if I was him I'd never want to get behind the wheel again."
Gordon sighed, plonking down heavily on a nearby bed as John followed suit. "People keep forgetting that he's hurt too! His shoulder's just one big bruise and I know his ribs are hurting him more then he's letting on." Gordon let the frustrated rant subside. "He said that." He admitted after a pause.
"What?" John asked, somewhat confused by the comment. "I don't …"
"He said that he wasn't ever going to race again. I thought it was just the shock and we talked about it, we talked all of this through." Gordon sighed yet again waving a hand erratically. Before reaching the hand up and kneaded his forehead thoughtfully. "I really thought he was okay, maybe I should talk to him again."
John smiled. "I know this is frustrating but you're doing everything you can Gordy, you can't do it for him. And he knows you'll support him whatever happens, we all will. You're right about the racing too. It's probably just a reaction; let's just see what happens. Huh?" John sighed.
"You think I should try and talk to him?" Gordon asked, glancing up to where Alan was hugging himself in the cold. "He'll stay out there all night if I don't. Won't he?"
"Do you want me to try?" John asked, knowing his brother would say no.
"No, I'll do it." Gordon stood up. Smiling down at his older brother. "Thanks John." He took in a deep breath. "Wish me luck."
He took a step forward but John stopped him. "Hold on. Here." He passed Gordon two waterproof jackets. "Listen," He continued. "I'm going to leave you two to it. I don't want him to feel like I'm watching him or anything; he's cagey enough as it is. I'll go to bed, but I'll leave out some towels on that heater for when you come back in."
"Thanks John." Gordon said sincerely as he turned back to the door, putting one of the jackets around his own shoulders.
"Scott's not the only big brother in this family y'know?" He smiled awry as Gordon turned back to him with a gentle smile. "Night Kid." He added softly.
"Night." Gordon sighed as he reached for the door handle.
He could see Alan huddled against the glass door; arms around himself as he tried to keep himself warm. The rain pelted down relentlessly and his blonde hair was stuck down flat to his head. The water was running straight down his face and literally pouring off his nose and chin. Gordon pulled the waterproof jacket up around his neck, squirming as the cold water hit the back of his neck and dripped under the coat. He walked slowly over to where his younger brother stood, unperturbed by the pouring rain.
"I told you it was raining." He smiled.
"Yeah well, I told you I'd get wet." Alan muttered. As Gordon got closer, he could see his brother was shivering.
"Here." Gordon held out the other jacket. "Put this on." Alan seemed to hesitate. "Go on, put it on." Gordon encouraged. "You'll catch a cold out here." Alan slowly took the jacket and put it on. His shivering in the cold and wet conditions made his movement slower. "According to Dad, even when it rains on this new island he's bought, it's still hot. Why is it the rain always seems colder in England anyway?" Gordon muttered to himself. He let a brief silence envelope them as the rain continued to pound down, before he spoke again. Softly this time. "Are you going to come inside so as we can talk about this?"
He watched Alan shrug. "What is there to talk about?" He asked. The edginess had gone from his voice replaced with a forlorn sadness.
"How about why we're stood outside in the rain?" Gordon suggested, a grin on his lips. He studied Alan closely, trying to predict his reaction.
"It doesn't feel like I'm crying in the rain. I can't even tell I'm doing it." Alan muttered, his voice squeaking as it broke. He swallowed as he turned to face his brother sheepishly and Gordon caught sight of his red eyes.
"Al," He sighed. "Come here." He enveloped his arms around the young man as Alan leant into the embrace, taking strength from it. "Come on, let's get you inside. Hmm?" He glanced down at the open jacket were Alan's clothing had darkened and stuck to his body. "You must be freezing." Gordon sighed. "Come inside." He tried to lead Alan back inside but the young man stopped him.
Alan snivelled. "Is John in there waiting to lecture me?" He shivered still.
Gordon shook his head. "No, he's gone to bed. Now come on." Alan hesitated again and Gordon turned back to face him. "Come on Al. If I catch a cold, I'll be blaming you."
"Blame." Alan mused. "That's a weird word."
Gordon frowned. "What? Al I …" He stopped as he spied the opened whisky bottle on the balcony wall, he moved closer. "Alan have you been drinking?"
"Does it matter?" Alan asked, swallowing and squinting against the rain as it continued to pour.
"Of course it matters!" Gordon exclaimed, a clap of thunder could be heard in the distance and he glanced out over the city instinctively before turning back. "You've been taking pills all afternoon, you idiot! Where did you…How much have you drunk?" Gordon asked urgently. "Alan! How much?" He shouted when he failed to get a response fast enough.
Alan merely laughed. "Not enough." He shrugged. "So what?"
"So what?" Gordon asked incredulously. "Are you insane?" He reached for the bottle. Seeing it was still almost full, he breathed a hesitant sigh of relief. In reality, he knew Alan hadn't had the time to drink that much, but the anxiousness at the prospect remained. "You could've killed yourself." Gordon seethed angrily.
"Give me the bottle." Alan said stonily.
"No." Gordon replied, a contrast to his brother angry words.
"I said give it to me!" Alan snapped, pushing at Gordon to get the bottle from his hand. Gordon kept him at bay with an arm across his chest, gentle but firm pressure pinning him against the glass door. Regardless of the bruises and the grimace that dominated Alan's expression.
"And I said no!" He shouted, close to Alan's face. The rain continued to fall as they stared at each other, their fiery, angry glares fixed on each other. "You idiot! Get inside." Gordon ordered as his temper rose at his brother's stupidity. "Go on! Get inside!"
"Is that how you order your men around?" Alan asked snidely. "Is it?" Gordon didn't reply grinding his teeth together instead in an effort not to bite back a retort. "You're pathetic! You don't have a clue and you know it! All this command stuff, it's a heap of crap. Look at you…" He struggled against Gordon's grip, despite the fact that it was hurting him. "You can't control your men, so don't try and tell me what to do. I'm your brother; you've got no control over me!" He scoffed a smirk.
Alan of all people knew how difficult Gordon was finding commanding men. He had confided in his brother that the task was daunting for him a long time ago. Just like Alan had confided in him his worry over the car. Those few words stung Gordon to the core.
Not content with the angry expression now prominent on his brother's features, Alan persisted. "You think you're so much better, with your fancy equipment and your underground garden!" Alan continued to snarl patronisingly. Watching the fire ignite in Gordon's eyes; exactly as he'd anticipated. A fire that he knew would not be confined to his brother's eyes for long. He goaded him further. "You think you're so great because of your career but the truth is; the only reason you joined the WASP's was because you weren't clever enough to go to college. You're a failure Gordon." Alan scoffed loudly. "The high and mighty WASP commander who's so intelligent he didn't need to go to college!" Alan declared loudly. "And they think I'm the dumb one, it's you that hasn't got any brains!"
Gordon was breathing erratically now, frequently pushing back against Alan's attempts to remove his restraining hand. He knew deep down that he was inflicting pain, but allowed himself to forget that fact in his fury. "You're damned lucky you're my brother." He spat angrily, his rage building to a crescendo.
"Or what? Huh?" Alan sneered. "Are you going to hit me? Yeah, you'd be a big man then wouldn't you? Come on Gordy, what you going to do?"
Gordon forced himself to clam down. Deep down he knew his brother was goading a reaction out of him on purpose but it still made him angry and hurt. "Go inside." He said calmly. "Go inside now and we'll talk."
"I don't want to talk!" Alan told him loudly. "I just want to be left alone!" He shouted in his brother's face.
"I'm trying to help you." Gordon ground out, remaining as calm as he could. Veins in his forehead and hands protruded though, revealing his terse angry state.
"Well newsflash!" Alan smirked. "I don't need your help, fat lot of good you've been so far." He growled.
Gordon took in a deep breath; he tried to excuse Alan's hurtful jibes on the pretext that it was the alcohol talking. In reality, he really hadn't had enough to affect him like that. The whisky bottle had scarcely been touched. That last comment was the final straw for Gordon; he released his hold on his brother and stepped back.
"Alright, fine." He said, barely containing his own anger. "You want to stay out here and catch pneumonia? That's just fine, you go ahead. And here." He thrust the whisky bottle into Alan's hands. "You want to drink yourself stupid on top of those pills? That's fine too, go right ahead. But remember this; I tried to help you, I was prepared to listen to you." He pointed a finger in Alan's face. "So when you've finished wallowing in your own pathetic, self pity and realise that you just made the biggest mistake of your life." Gordon's voice shook with the anger he felt, not just anger, but hurt at the comments his closest brother had made too. "Don't come running to me."
He continued, his voice betraying the emotion he felt. "Find some other mug. Maybe they'll do a better job, seeing as I've been a 'fat lot of good' so far." He breathed heavily, eyes bulging. Stepping back, his nostrils flared as he forcefully tried to calm himself down. Before taking one look at his brother, he stormed back inside out of the rain, slamming the door with force as he went.
Alan sunk down the glass to the floor and allowed the rain to run off his head as he hugged his knees close to him. "I didn't mean it; I'm sorry Gordy." He sobbed, but the redhead was too far away to hear, and to angry to care.
By the time Alan made his way inside later that night, the shared room was pitch black. He stumbled to the bathroom and dried himself off, shivering as he made his way back into the main room. His eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness and he had become accustomed to the room enough to negotiate his way to his bed successfully. Sitting down with a heavy sigh his eyes rested on Gordon. Though his brother's eyes were closed, Alan knew he wouldn't have slept until he had heard him return. And doubted he was really asleep. He edged closer to the bed, hesitantly.
"Gordy?" He called out softly, not wanting to wake John. "Gordon, are you awake?" To Alan it was a question he already knew the answer to.
Gordon concentrated on forcefully relaxing every muscle in his body. His face impassive and his body seemingly limp, despite the fact that in reality, every muscle was taut with anticipation. He felt Alan's hand reach out to his face, the tiniest hairs on his skin sat up with the proximity.
"I know you're not asleep." He heard his brother's voice shake with remorse that he knew could never be falsified however; he still couldn't find it in himself to open his eyes. He was still too angry to trust himself. Instead, he kept as still as physically possible, making no movement. Attempting to convince his younger brother that he was indeed asleep. An attempt that he knew was already futile. Nevertheless, he endeavoured to keep his breathing steady and not allow the expectation he felt to creep through.
Eventually Alan gave up and sat back down on his bed. "Night then." He said dejectedly as he tucked his legs in between the sheets and slowly lay down.
Gordon let out a breath he didn't realise he was holding as Alan got back into bed, and he allowed his eyes to open fractionally. When he realised his younger brother was lying on his injured side and staring at him, he quickly slipped them shut again. Eventually nodding off.
Alan meanwhile lay awake, sorrowfully staring at his brother as he slept. Numerous thoughts ran through his head, most of them regretful. As he finally allowed his eyes to close, single droplets of water escaped them.