Authors Note: Thank you to all those who left a review for ten. Please continue to let me know your thoughts and feelings; it really helps to know the effect a chapter has on the reader.
Chapter Eleven – Attempted Apologies
Scott and Sam made their way back to their room. Unfortunately, their amicable chat fast turned to the dreaded investigation.
"They just made me feel like it was all my fault. It was so intense, I felt like I was being accused." Sam explained as they approached the door to their room.
"Dad says that if this investigation recommends an inquest into the crash, it could go on for months." Scott sighed as he fished the swipe card out of his pocket. "Do you think they will?"
Sam shrugged, leaning against the doorframe whilst Scott swiped the key. "I don't know. I don't see how, I mean it was an accident. Then again, if my interview was anything to go by…" He trailed off shrugging again and following Scott as he walked into the lamp lit room. "They might do."
"I don't know how Alan would cope if they did." Scott said sadly.
"He's doing okay Scott." Sam smiled. "He's got a very supportive family, he'd get through it." Scott shrugged, showing his doubt. Suddenly, he came to a stop. "What?" Sam asked from behind him.
"Shh." Scott smiled, he gestured to where his father and Virgil both slept peacefully. "It seems a shame to wake him." Scott commented as he approached his father, reaching a hand out to his back. "Dad." He called softly. "Dad." He shook his father slightly. "Dad, wake up."
"Oh sorry son." Jeff groaned as he rubbed at his eyes sitting up. "I must've nodded off." He smiled across to Sam. "What time is it?" He asked quietly.
Sam glanced at his watch. "Nearly quarter passed ten." He said softly.
Jeff yawned. "Passed my bed time then." He smiled, getting to his feet and stretching. "How's Alan?"
Scott and Sam looked at each other before Scott replied. "Moody." He frowned. "Gordon's talking to him."
Jeff nodded. "I guess I should leave it a while before I check in on him then."
Scott shrugged. "Well, John said he'd keep an eye on them Dad, and you look tired. Why don't you just go to bed? You can talk to him tomorrow."
Jeff yawned again. "Hmm, yes. You're right Scott; I think I will go to bed. I am going to talk to him tomorrow though."
"We left the pizza we saved you in their room." Sam suddenly remembered.
The older man screwed his nose up. "Cold pizza?" He paused. "I'm not really that hungry; I think I'll save myself for breakfast."
Scott and Sam exchanged grins.
"He okay?" Scott gestured to his brother as he shook his head, still smiling.
Jeff nodded. "He's fine. We did come to a compromise though; that if he isn't feeling any better by morning, I'd give Charlie Gore a call.
Scott raised his eyebrows in admiration as his father yawned again. "Well done, that's more than I could get out of him. You should go to bed, come on."
They continued to talk softly as Scott lead him to the door, whilst Sam attempted to move the chair that sat in between the two beds. Inadvertently, as he turned round, one of the legs caught the lamp and it tumbled to the floor with a crash. Wincing at the loud noise Sam cringed, looking up he was unsurprised to see Virgil staring back at him.
"Sorry." He flinched. "Didn't mean to wake you."
Virgil shook his head brushing off the apology. "How's Alan?" He asked faintly before clearing his throat.
Sam put the chair down and perched on the bed alongside his friend. "He's a bit upset about these interviews but he'll be fine; Gordon's talking to him." He paused, assessing if his friend was up to a conversation and apparently deciding he was. "Your family never ceases to amaze me." He told Virgil with a shake of his head. "They've all been great. You're really lucky y'know that?" He paused. "I wish I had a family like them, so supportive and caring…" He trailed off, looking down at Virgil deliberately. "Do you know what I would give to have a father like yours or a brother like John or Gordon? Or how much I wish the relationship I have with my brother was like you have with Scott?"
Virgil suddenly felt guilt circle in the pit of his stomach. His relationship with Scott was one of the things at the foremost of his thinking at the moment.
"Sorry." Sam shook his head, his friend's tortured expression not going without notice. "I'm just jealous, you're lucky."
"I know." Virgil replied meekly. "How did your interview go?"
"Well," Sam sighed. "I'm not allowed to discuss it with you but hell wouldn't be far off. That woman; she's got this way of putting things that makes you feel as if you've committed a crime or something. She's intimidating and she twists everything. It's not nice. You don't go anywhere near that place until you're ready." He ordered as he sighed. "Stressful would be the understatement of the century."
"You okay?" Virgil asked, concerned.
"Ah yeah." Sam smiled. "I guess we've all got to wait until Wednesday anyway. We won't know anything until then. There's no point getting stressed about it. Right?"
Virgil smiled a reply. "Right, but I know you Sam; you're stressed."
The blonde man shrugged. "I just keep thinking about the 'what ifs' and I know deep down that it doesn't matter now. That it's happened, but I can't stop myself. I'm not going to until I know the reason why Mark Jamison died."
"And on Wednesday, they'll confirm what you and the first steward on the scene said; that it was a fault with the car. We both know that's why Alan's car spun." Virgil said confidently. "And we both know it wasn't a fault you or I could have done anything about." Virgil watched his mechanic friend as he shrugged again.
"We'll see if you're so confident after you're interview, or should I say interrogation." Sam smiled but it failed to reach his eyes. "I guess we'll find out on Wednesday huh?"
Virgil nodded. "It wasn't your fault and it wasn't Al's fault. It was an accident." He told Sam firmly, his voice steady and supportive.
Sam decided it was time to change the subject and smiled up to his friend. "Anyway, how are you feeling?"
Virgil groaned painfully. "About ready to jump out of this bed, bruises or no bruises and flatten the next person that asks me that." He grinned jovially but narrowed his eyes.
Sam laughed. "I'd like to see you try buddy!"
"Hey, you're up." Scott smiled as he came round to Virgil's other side. "How are you feeling?"
For a few moments, after the words were spoken, there was just silence. Then as Virgil turned to Sam rolling his eyes, they both burst out laughing.
"Oh don't." Virgil grabbed his injured ribs. "Don't make me laugh, it hurts." He pleaded to his friend as Sam continued to laugh loudly at Scott's confused expression.
"What?" The elder brother was asking. "What is it? What's so funny?"
"Nothing." Sam shook his head. "Nothing." He repeated as he struggled to control his laughing.
"Sorry." Virgil apologised to his brother. "Don't ask." He grinned in return to Scott's questioning stare. "Just don't ask." He smiled.
Confused and to a certain extent bemused. Scott sat back and watched as both Virgil and Sam transcended into fits of laughter again. Despite the fact that he was marginally concerned at the way his brother grasped his ribs and begged for mercy. And more than a little irritated by the lack of forthcoming, both of them exhibited, in telling him what the joke was. He had to admit he was pleased to see his brother truly smile and found himself grinning merely at the fact they were both laughing so uncontrollably.
XxxxX
Alan watched from the doorway as a chilly breeze ambled through the door. His thin shirt fluttered occasionally and his hair flickered against the soft wind. He took a few quiet steps out onto the balcony from his silent observation point. His bare feet made no sound on the concrete floor as he approached the object of his studying. He glanced up to the bright morning sun, promising a calm day and completely contrasting the storm they'd suffered the night before.
He wondered briefly if the other storm he'd encountered would be as calm today; Gordon.
"Hey, morning." He greeted softy, a certain amount of uncertainty in his voice as he leant up against the railing alongside his brother. Adopting the same pose, he linked one ankle round the other and leant forward on his forearms. Looking out to where his brother's gaze stared.
When Gordon didn't acknowledge his presence he knew he was in for a rough ride and suddenly felt so foolish. He had spent a long time convincing his family that he wasn't a child anymore and being the youngest, it had been a difficult task. It still was. However, here he stood, side by side with the one person who had never needed any convincing. And, it had been Gordon who had been on the receiving end of his childish and irrational outburst last night. He swallowed nervously. To him, it seemed loud, louder perhaps than the dull thud of his own heartbeat in his ears.
"I err…" He sighed uncomfortably. "I made you a coffee." He gestured to the two cups of coffee sat on the wooden table, still steaming.
"I've got one." Gordon replied, tonelessly. He made no attempt to face his brother and instead continued to gaze out across the city.
"Oh … Right." Alan swallowed again, looking away. An uncomfortable silence settled over them for a while and whilst Alan thought furiously to break it, Gordon just stared ahead. "Erm…" Alan sighed. "About last night." He paused. "I said some things I didn't mean, I'm sorry."
For a long time Gordon still made no attempt to move. "Yeah." He sighed eventually with a shake of the head. Turning away from his younger brother, he began walking back into the room. Alan's hand reaching out to his arm stopped him. He looked down at the obstruction in disgust before tracing the arm back to its owner and staring hard at his brother.
"I'm trying to apologise here." Alan said with a frown, he let his grip go and Gordon faced him.
"I heard." The copper haired young man replied. "So what? You thought you'd apologise and everything would be okay." He paused when it became evident that Alan did think that, shaking his head he sighed. "You're not a kid anymore Alan, you're the one who keeps reminding us of that. You're an adult so start acting like one. You can't seriously think that one little word takes back all those things you said. You really hurt me last night."
"I know that and I know you were only trying to help me." Alan replied, looking to the floor awkwardly. "I'm sorry, truly I am."
Gordon smiled tightly. "Good." He replied.
Another silence followed. The impact of his words and the damage his outburst had done, was finally beginning to sink in to Alan in the cold light of day.
"Can we talk?" He asked timidly, experiencing one of the few occasions in his life when he couldn't predict Gordon's reply. He was unsure he really wanted to be standing where he was when that reply came.
"Find some other mug." Gordon said flatly. "I'm going swimming."
Alan felt himself starting to panic as the sheer force of the wall of hurt he had placed between Gordon and himself. His inability to penetrate it successfully was terrifying him. He felt his world spin as he desperately searched his mind for something that could somehow rectify the situation. His guilt ridden thoughts couldn't help him.
"Gordon wait!" He called. "I … I'll come with you." He breathing quickened as he could only stand there and watch helplessly as the situation spun hopelessly out of his control.
"No!" Gordon returned quickly. "You can't swim in that condition." He gestured to Alan's shoulder and it was obvious that he was using the injuries to his advantage. "Not the kind of swimming I need to do anyway." He added deliberately before turning back. He walked back into the room, grasping a small sports bag and continued straight out the door. Shrugging off John's hand on his shoulder he stormed through the room, leaving one devastated Alan Tracy in his wake.
"I take it from that, last night's chat didn't go too well?" Alan's attempt to follow his aquanaut brother where thwarted by the imposing figure of his other brother stood in the doorway.
"John." Alan sighed, sitting down and allowing his head to fall into his hand. "John, I've been such an idiot." John plopped down beside him, as he ran trembling fingers through his hair. "What have I done?" He whispered.
"I don't know Al, what have you done?" John asked.
Alan shook his head in despair. "I can't believe I've been so stupid, so … so selfish." He cursed himself, continuing to shake his head in dismay. Suddenly he stopped and looked to John with hopeful eyes, wide with optimism. "You have to help me John, you have to, please."
"Of course I'll help you." John told him. "But first you'd better tell me what happened last night."
Alan looked up sheepishly. To begin with, he was nervous to admit to his older brother just how heartless he'd been. Realising that he needed John's help if he was ever going to gain Gordon's forgiveness, he sighed. He slowly recounted the tale, wincing with every surprised and disgusted expression John allowed to show. As he repeated the exact words he had to wonder if, even with John's help, he could make this right.
XxxxX
Scott overlooked the city, coffee in hand he marvelled at the sky. Perfectly clear, no hint of the storm that had raged the night before making ideal weather for flying, he mused.
"I know what you're thinking." He was startled to find Virgil stood beside him. "You never cease to amaze me you know that?" He paused to shake his head and smirk. "You fly planes for a career and even when you're on vacation, you still want to be up there."
Scott had to smirk. "You know me too well." He told his brother. "I was just thinking …"
"How tempting those clear blue skies are?" Virgil finished for him, an amused smirk still lingering on his lips.
"What can I say?" Scott grinned. "I'm a pilot, it's in my blood." He paused to watch Virgil lean against the wall and stare out over the city too. "So," He said casually. "You know what I'm thinking, what are you thinking?" He narrowed his eyes.
Virgil smiled. "That I should thank you for your help this morning..."
"You don't have to do that." Scott interrupted him; he was secretly pleased that Virgil had accepted the help he'd offered that morning. It would seem the chat he'd had with his brother yesterday did have some effect after all.
"Yeah I do." Virgil sighed, screwing his face up a little. Not unnoticed by Scott.
"Pain?" Scott asked, concern emanating.
"Yeah, a little." Virgil told his brother, shrugging slightly. "I'll take some more pills with breakfast, it'll be fine." The off hand tone, did nothing to reassure the anxiousness in Scott's pose. "Stop fussing Scott. It'll be fine." Virgil added, more abruptly than he'd intended to.
"Hmm." Scott sighed. He glanced across to his brother at the sharp tone but didn't comment. Instead, ignoring Virgil's irritability. "Take it easy today. Don't push yourself." He raised an eyebrow to instil the gravity of the comment in to his brother.
"Stop it, Scott." Virgil replied, in that same abrupt tone. "Look, I learnt my lesson yesterday." He paused watching Scott's expression for a few minutes. "I am going to go down and talk to the investigators today though." He said lightly after a short pause.
"I'll take you later." Scott offered, finishing off the coffee in his hands. He bit back any irritation he felt at his brother's ill temper and put the outburst down to the discomfort he knew Virgil would be feeling.
"Actually," Virgil said. "Dad said he'd take me." He could see Scott instantly disliked the idea. "I'll be fine Scott; I'll take it easy. Dad's not going to let me overdo it."
"Are you sure you're ready? You don't have to talk to them until you feel up to it." Scott frowned.
"I want to get it done and out of the way. I'm fine." Virgil frowned too. "I know my limits Scott and after yesterday, I'm not likely to be doing any bungee jumps. Trust me."
"You know I trust you, with my life." Virgil smiled at the comment. The abundance of trust Scott placed in him when he often confided in him, was a fact he was immensely proud of. "It's your judgement when you're sick that I don't trust. You think you can just carry on as normal when you can't, you have to make allowances."
"Okay, okay!" Virgil growled. "I get the point, stop going on, will you? I'll make allowances. I promise, but spare me the lecture." Scott wasn't sure whether that last comment was supposed to be a joke but he remained deadly serious.
"Maybe you need the lecture. It's not funny Virg, I'm worried about you." He said seriously.
"I know." Virgil sighed again, grimacing this time. "But you shouldn't be. I've told you a hundred times; I feel fine."
"Dad's worried about you." Scott continued, adding a serious frown.
"Dad's worried about you too." Virgil was quick to point out.
Scott stopped, his mouth half open intent on replying. Instead, he turned to his brother, his frown deepening. "Me?" He questioned.
Virgil nodded. "Yeah, you." He paused. "We need to talk." A gentle sigh escaped his lips before he continued. "I told him we would."
Scott seemed surprised by the revelation. "Hmm, yeah." He said distractedly. "Me too."
Virgil braced himself to take in a deep breath. "I feel as if maybe we should." He suggested softly. "You think?"
"Should what?" Scott asked, mystified.
Virgil shrugged awkwardly. "Talk." He practically whispered.
"What?" Scott said leaning in, not hearing him the first time.
"Nothing." Virgil sighed. He shook his head, trying to forget the idea.
Scott watched his brother fiddle nervously, bemused by Virgil's hesitant behaviour. A few moments of silence dragged by. "It's weird how everyone's changed." Scott mused suddenly. "Some things don't change though. I mean; you and me. We haven't changed that much, have we?" He glanced across at his brother. Though he'd like to think otherwise, they'd changed just as much as the others had. They'd grown up, and apart. He felt the need to reassure himself. "You can still talk to me. You know that don't you?" He smiled when Virgil nodded vaguely. "Whenever you're ready."
"Scott, you have to understand; this isn't something you can fix." Virgil replied softly. "We're not kids any more. None of us, not even Alan, really." He shook his head. "You can't make this okay."
"I know that." Scott became defensive.
"What I'm trying to say is that…" He waved his hands in the air. "It doesn't matter."
"No, go on." Scott frowned. "What are you trying to say?"
"Forget it." Virgil could tell from his tone of voice alone that this wouldn't end well.
"No, come on. Tell me. What were you going to say?" Scott pushed, becoming irritable himself.
Virgil sighed. "Scott, stop worrying about me and just give me some space. That' all." He replied eventually.
"Space?" Scott replied. "Why? Didn't you get enough of that yesterday morning?" He retorted. "Is there any wonder I worry when…"
"Hey guys!" Sam called, appearing in the doorway. Apparently not realising he'd just interrupted something. "Alan and John are here. Are we going down to breakfast of what? Because I'm starving!" He smiled as he turned back into the room, presuming the two elder brothers would follow.
"This isn't finished." Scott walked away and with a soft sigh, Virgil followed. "Come on."
"Virg! Hey!" Alan smiled at his older brother widely. "You look …" He trailed off, his smile beaming bright white teeth.
"What?" Virgil asked suspiciously. "The last time you grinned at me like that I had oil smeared all over my face."
The younger blonde smiled again. "Nothing, just you look better." Alan shrugged as Sam joined them. John however held back, waiting for Scott.
"How you doing?" Virgil asked as they began slowly walking towards the reception area and the lifts.
"Okay, ribs hurt; they're a bit bruised but not as bad as yours." He added guiltily looking to the floor. "Shoulder's still a bit sore, but I'm okay." He smiled, but there was a sadness in his eyes that Virgil couldn't explain.
"Good." He smiled, glancing back to Scott and John walking behind them before looking across to Sam and exchanging a concerned, fleeting look. "What's up Al?" Virgil asked eventually. "You seem a bit down."
"It's nothing." Alan sighed, shaking his head as they came to a stop to wait for the lift. "I just, I wanted to talk to you about something, both of you." He looked across to Sam and sighed again, before looking up suddenly as Scott and John neared them.
XxxxX
"We need to have a little chat." John was saying quietly as they walked towards the reception area.
Scott looked up surprised by the secrecy and meaningful looks John was passing his way. He frowned. "A chat?" He smirked. "You sound like Dad. What's up?"
"Gordon and Alan's little talk last night didn't go so well." John continued to speak quietly to his older brother, watching as Scott turned to Alan.
"What do you mean?" Scott asked, frowning now and speaking equally cautiously.
"Later." John told Scott as they approached Sam, Virgil and Alan. "Sorry guys." He apologised.
"And I thought I was slow." Virgil joked, referring to the small yet tender steps he'd taken.
"You take your time; we don't want you overdoing it." Scott said, pointedly raising an eyebrow at his chestnut haired brother as the lift pinged and they stepped inside one of the carriages.
Unsurprisingly to Scott their father was already sat at one of the larger tables in the small private dinning room. Glasses perched on the edge of his nose and head and shoulders obscured by a broad sheet newspaper. As they took their seats, Scott made sure to select a seat next to John and subconsciously watched Virgil lower himself delicately into one of the ornate chairs. It was becoming blindingly obvious to Scott that his brother's pain was only increasing.
"Morning Boys!" Jeff smiled as he collapsed his glasses and placed them in the top pocket of his shirt. He glanced around the table before folding the newspaper neatly and placing it on the edge. Looking at his watch purposely.
Scott found himself doing the same thing, realising that they were late. "Sorry we're late Dad." He apologised dutifully, as a waitress walked round the table pouring coffee or tea into every cup.
Jeff nodded his acceptance, glancing once more, around the table. "Where's Gordon?"
Jeff watched Alan immediately dip his head and frowned. He looked across at John as the older blonde explained. "Oh, he's err … he's gone swimming." Virgil looked to Scott for an answer but the older brother only shrugged as he and John exchanged suspicious, querying glances once more. The conversation continued. "Later." John whispered to his older brother.
"We can go straight after breakfast if you like Virgil?" Jeff was saying as Scott returned to the conversation around him, a wary eye still on Alan.
"Yeah, that'd be fine Dad." Virgil smiled tightly and Scott found his gaze resting solely on his injured brother again.
"Good, good." Jeff enthused. "Oh!" He exclaimed. "I had a call from the Investigation Team last night; they left a message saying they were trying to get hold of you Alan. Did they call?"
Alan shrugged. "Probably, I haven't checked my messages yet."
"Well I gave them a call back this morning and they told me the car can be picked up this afternoon. They've finished with it for now." Jeff smiled. "I thought you and Sam might like to go whilst I take Virgil for his interview."
"Is the artic still in the paddock?" Alan asked, leaning to one side as a bowl was placed in front of him.
Jeff nodded. "I think so, that's where we left it on Saturday."
"We'll get it loaded up and ready to go." Sam said as he raised his spoon to his lips.
"It's a shame that Trans Atlantic Shuttle crossing isn't going to be finished for another three years." John mused. "That would have saved you a lot of travelling time. It's a pioneering thought, I'm surprised you weren't more involved with it Dad." John commented. "It'd certainly save on travelling expenses between Europe and the States. And it'd make it easier to take a car."
"It's still in the early stages though John." Jeff replied, sipping at his coffee. "The construction will be a big job. I mean look how long it took to build the Eurotunnel. And we're talking the length of the Atlantic Ocean here. Besides, they'd have to build over the Mid-Atlantic Ridge. There's too much tectonic movement in that area for it to be stable enough for this kind of project. It's a recipe for disaster, if you ask me." He concluded.
John was nodding in agreement. "I know what you mean father. But it'll be cheaper than flying and for some people; it's worth that risk."
"It'll be another example of mankind putting engineering before nature, and their own intelligence." Jeff said grimly. "Believe me, it'll end in tears."
"Anyway…" Sam shrugged, tucking into the food and attempting to turn the subject to something he understood. "What happens when we get the car back?" He asked.
"Well, Ferrari US are going to do all the work it needs. If Alan wants it to be ready for Belleview we need to get it to Detroit as soon as possible so as they can make a start." Jeff was saying as he lifted his cup of coffee to his lips again. Virgil watched as Alan took in a deep breath and kept his head down. Suspicious of his brother's surreptitious behaviour he glanced across at Sam who had obviously also noticed.
"Excuse me, Mr Tracy." A suit-clad man with a clipboard approached them. "There's an urgent call for you at the main reception area." He leaned in to talk to Jeff in a sensitive manner.
"Urgent?" Jeff asked. "Did they say who it was?"
"No Sir, just that they were calling from Tracy Enterprises, Special Projects branch." The man seemed to pause for a few moments, awaiting further instruction from Jeff.
"I'll take it in my room, thank you." The clipboard man disappeared as Jeff removed his napkin and delicately dabbed his mouth. "I'm sorry boys; you'll have to excuse me. I need to take this call but carry on, I won't be long."
Several nods were his only acknowledgement as he stepped away from the table and continued out of the room.
Virgil nudged the young blonde sat next to him. "What is it?" He asked quietly, realising that Sam too was looking at his youngest brother. Scott and John engaged themselves in their own hushed conversation.
Alan sighed. "Belleview; that's what I wanted to talk to you about." He paused, looking up to both of them. "I don't think I'm going to race Belleview." He said uncertainly.
"Al, if you want the car to be ready for then, it will be." Sam said confidently. "We'll take a look at it when we pick it up. From what I saw before, a large amount of the damage is cosmetic. We'll have it fixed before you know it."
Alan sighed. "Actually, I'm thinking of selling the GX10."
"Selling it. Why?" Virgil frowned. "I know it's not run very well so far but things can't get much worse."
"You can say that again." Alan said sadly, Virgil winced at the comment. "It's just nothing's gone right with it all season. I think I'd be better cutting my losses and selling it off." He paused. "It wouldn't be too difficult to take out the roll cage and restore it to road safety standards, would it Sam?"
"Well, no." The mechanic told him, shocked. "And it's more likely to sell as an antique road car but …" He trailed off. "Al, Virgil and I have spent months getting it ready to race. That's a lot of work to undo or just sell on."
Alan hung his head again. "I know and I appreciate what you guys have done to help me, you know that."
"Are you asking our opinion here, or telling us?" Sam asked, suddenly frowning. "Because it sounds to me like you've already made your mind up."
"The car's not financially viable. I've paid out more on fixing it than I did to buy it in the first place." Alan shrugged. "This time I just don't think it's worth it. If I can get a good price for it I think I'd be better off selling."
"You've never worried about whether the car's financially viable or not before." Sam shook his head. "Why the sudden change?"
"I never worried about it before because Dad's always helped me out with the cars. I can't expect him to keep doing that, it's unfair. I'm an adult now and I shouldn't rely on him financially." Alan sighed. "I'm going to sell it."
Virgil raised his eyebrows at Sam in complete and utter shock at the last statement. It was completely unlike Alan to think of anyone else except for himself, especially when it came to money and deep down Virgil knew it was a cover.
"What will you get instead?" Virgil inquired, glancing at Sam. The question was purposely phrased; Virgil knew exactly what his brother was doing.
Alan shrugged. "I don't know. I hadn't really thought about it."
"Well, I can't see you racing your precious Porsche Atlas K3 round a track like that." Virgil watched his brother as Alan avoided meeting his gaze. "What would you race?"
Alan shrugged again. "I don't know; maybe take a break for a while."
"A break?" Sam frowned. "Kenny's going to have a fit! Alan you're never going to make it to the big time if you take a break now. You're doing really well."
Virgil smirked sadly, as he shook his head. "This isn't about the car is it?" He looked up at Alan. "It's about you Al. You don't want to race, do you?"
"Can you blame me?" Alan leant forward, checking Scott and John spoke silently to themselves.
Virgil winced as he leant on the table, relieving some of the pressure on his ribs. "Al, it was an accident. Accident's happen, it wasn't your fault."
"That's not what the Crash Investigation Team seems to think." Alan pouted, sitting back in his chair stubbornly as a waiter removed their used dishes and another course followed.
"I don't give a damn what the Crash Investigation Team think." Virgil hissed, drawing surprised gazes from both Alan and Sam at just how harsh his tone was. "Look at me Alan." He ordered. The younger man swallowed before complying and meeting his brother's gaze. Virgil softened slightly. "They weren't in that car okay? I … I was, and I know…" He emphasised the word. "…that it wasn't your fault." Virgil sighed slightly. "Just … just give it some time okay? Don't rush into anything; see how you feel when it's been repaired. If you still want to get rid, we'll do anything we can to help and so will Kenny. Isn't that right Sam?"
"Of course we will." The mechanic nodded. "He's right." He nodded at Virgil. "Always is. Wise beyond his years." He paused, leaning in to Alan. "Annoying though, isn't it?"
Alan smiled as Virgil nodded approvingly; glancing up worriedly at Sam. Wondering if Alan's promising career and the talent he had shown on the racetrack were now only a distant memory.
XxxxX
"Stop it." John hissed to his older brother, sat alongside him.
Scott turned his gaze to his brother from where he stared at Virgil aimlessly pushing food around his plate. He glanced across at where the others where talking urgently amongst themselves as he did. "What?" He asked innocently.
"Stop staring at him, you'll turn him to stone." John sighed, shaking his head slightly.
"What are you talking about?" Scott feigned ignorance as he faced his blonde brother.
"Don't give me that!" John shook his head again as he continued their hushed conversation. "You know exactly what I'm talking about. He's not going anywhere Scott." John paused, to put down his fork and glancing up at where Virgil spoke quietly to Alan. "Look, I know you're worried…"
"He's hardly eaten anything." Scott commented, not listening to John.
"Scott, stop." John waited for his brother to look at him. "I don't think I could eat anything if you were watching my every move like you're watching his." He whispered.
"I'm not watching his every move." Scott defended as quietly as he could. John just raised a questioning eyebrow silently and Scott felt the need to defend himself further. "I'm not! I just want to make sure he eats a proper meal. He's spent the entire time pushing food around his plate." Scott whispered back in a harassed manner as he glared at John and took in a deep breath.
"Have you talked to him yet?" John asked, continuing to eat. Only hesitating when Scott turned to stare at him, wide eyed. His hand halted, food half way to his mouth. "What?"
"I told Gordon that in confidence!" Scott exclaimed angrily. "The little … What exactly has he been saying?"
John sighed, lowering the fork. "Gordon didn't say anything; he didn't have to. Scott, has it not occurred to you that I've been around you and Dad long enough to become fluent in this silent language you and he speak?" Scott frowned clearly confused by the comment. "The one where actions speak louder than words." He raised the fork again, this time making it to his mouth and chewing on it for a while before pushing it to one side. "Oh come on Scott." He swallowed. "It's obvious something's going on. The way you exploded yesterday for a start and all that 'not leaving him on his own' stuff last night." John scoffed before turning back to his breakfast. "And then there was the atmosphere this morning."
"He disappeared for nearly three hours yesterday, what did you expect me to do?" Scott's voice was getting louder and they both glanced over to where the other three still spoke quietly. Scott's vision lingered for a while.
"You're doing it again." John whispered. "You don't even know you're doing it." He smirked with disbelief. "Scott, you've been staring at him as if he was going to spontaneously combust at any second. I know you're worried about him so just talk to him, it's not like he's going shut you out." John smirked at the absurdity of the suggestion but Scott looked gravely at the table. "And whilst we're on the subject of talking …" He trailed off as he turned to Scott's sombre expression. "What?"
"Nothing, you're right." Scott hung his head and went about pushing around his own food miserably. "I'll talk to him." He said softly, glancing once more across at Virgil.
"About what I was saying this morning." John carried on. "Alan really screwed up last night with Gordon."
"Hmm, what?" Scott was frowning at him, distracted again.
"Alan and Gordon, their little talk last night didn't exactly go to plan." John paused. "Alan said some things he didn't mean. When he tried to apologise this morning, Gordon stormed off. Hence, his absence this morning."
Scott nodded, unconcerned. "And? They argue all the time; it means nothing. Tell Alan to leave Gordon a while and then apologise again. It'll be fine, let him swim it out."
"I don't think so Scott." John confided. "He said some nasty things, personal things. Gordon was pretty upset this morning. I need your help; I thought maybe you could have a word with Alan whilst I go find Gordy."
Scott frowned. "What exactly did he say to upset Gordon so much?" John repeated what Alan had told him. Causing Scott to let out a heartfelt sigh and glance down the table at his brother. "Stupid kid!" Scott cursed. "Okay, I'll talk to him."
He found his gaze drawn back to Virgil again. Only this time, his brother looked up at him with an irritated expression revealing exactly what he thought. Scott smiled apologetically and turned his attention back to the meal in front of him.
"Seems like I'm not the only one fluent in your silent language Scott." John muttered as his brother glared at him.