Author's Note: Many thanks to all those who have reviewed the last chapter, we're finally approaching the finish line (no pun intended) as this is the penultimate chapter. I can not express how helpful reviews are for an author who is wanting to know the strengths and weaknesses of her writing; so please don't hesitate to drop me a line and let me know your thoughts – either way.
Also, I just wanted to take the time to wish everyone a very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!
Thanks again.
Chapter 22 - Judgement Day
Jeff Tracy began to frown. He knocked on the hotel room door his youngest son occupied once more and once more, his knocking was to no avail. He was not used to being kept waiting for anything, particularly when it came to his sons. However, given the situation; his irritation was fast morphing into worry. An anxious feeling circled the pit of his stomach as he restlessly, clenched his hand and unclenched it. He knocked again, this time firmer and brisker. When he received no reply yet again, he balanced the tray he held carefully to reach into his trouser pocket. Fishing out the key card Gordon had asked him to hand in at reception, he let himself in. For once, thankful of his second youngest son's chaotic, last minute preparation.
He carried the tray carefully, as he made his way inside. Thick curtains darkened the room and it appeared gloomy and dim. "Alan?" Jeff called as he ventured inside, putting the tray down on the nearest table. He almost jumped at the shadow that appeared in the corner of his eye.
"Dad?" Alan took a deep breath as he stepped into the room from the bathroom. He wrapped his arms around his chest in an effort to repress the churning in his stomach. "You made me jump." He told his father, swallowing back the bitter after taste that lingered in his mouth
"Alan, you look awful Son." Jeff exclaimed, as he eyed the young blonde up and down. His hair stuck up on end, in various directions and the dark circles under his eyes told of a sleepless night. His white, freshly pressed shirt blended into his complexion, to the point where Jeff wondered where his shirt stopped and his skin started. But what was most alarming was the way his eyelids dropped so frequently, masking the dull, desolate blue orbs that were usually so bright and full of life. "Did you get any sleep last night?" Jeff frowned in concern.
Alan shrugged as he walked over to the table and sat down, putting his head in his hands. "Woke up at three, couldn't get back to sleep after that."
Jeff frowned. "Son, you should have woken me." He walked over to the balcony doors. "You shouldn't have been stuck in here on your own." He reached out to grip the curtains.
"Dad, don't…" Looking up, Alan trailed off with a wince as Jeff pulled the curtains open. Light flooded the room, and Alan brought up an arm to cover his sensitive eyes as stabbing pains cut into his head. He leant forward, putting his elbows on the table again and letting his head flop into his hands, with a groan.
Jeff frowned back at him, taking the seat alongside him. "Son?" He placed a reassuring hand on Alan's shoulder, whilst pushing the tray across the table. "I've brought you up some breakfast; I thought you might need something to settle your nerves."
Alan looked across at his father, still grimacing at the bright light and squinting to see. "I'm not really hungry Dad; to be honest I don't feel too good."
"Hmm," Jeff nodded. "I thought as much, maybe this'll change your mind." He reached for the heatproof cover, removing it despite Alan's protests.
"Dad I…" The smell hit him with the all the power of a tornado. He breathed deeply in an attempt to stop his stomach churning ominously, but it had little effect. His cheeks still prickled with the bitter aftertaste of last time and when he looked down, the sight of the food was the last straw. He felt himself shiver as the bile rose to his throat and goose bumps broke out all over his body. "Urgh." He groaned as he clapped a hand over his mouth and rushed back to the bathroom, only just making it in time.
"Alan!" Jeff rushed after him. Shrugging off his jacket as he went, and throwing it onto the tangled sheets that had been Alan's bed. He entered the bathroom to find his youngest son being fiercely sick.
Alan barely registered his father's hand on his back until the vomiting died down to dry, arid heaves. Jeff's words of reassurance finally penetrated his hearing. "It's alright Son. Here," As Alan looked up, Jeff handed him a plastic cup full of water. "Rinse your mouth out." Alan did so, sitting back against the wall as he sipped at the remaining water. He could feel the cool of the tiles through his shirt, slowly chilling the itchy heat of his skin. "Better?" Jeff asked as he leant his hip against the sink, wearing a frown of fatherly concern Alan recognised.
"Not really." Alan admitted as he leant his head back against the wall. Breath came in short, sharp gaps and he tried to even it out. Grasping at his stomach, he hoped that the nausea he felt would dissipate.
Jeff looked down at him with sympathy. "Something tells me that's not the first time you've been sick this morning." Technically, it was a statement but Alan read the question it was meant to ask.
"No." He shook his head. "It's the third, but who's counting?" He tried to smile, but his stomach threatened to rebel and it turned to a grimace.
"Is it just your stomach?" Jeff couched in front of him, raising a hand to his brow. Noting that he felt hot.
Alan groaned. "My head's pounding too." He closed his eyes.
"Hmm." Jeff stroked his chin. "I'm not really surprised." He told his youngest son. A concerned frown still furrowing his features. "I think maybe you should try and eat something." He suggested.
"No." Alan was shaking his head. "I'd just puke it up again Dad."
Jeff looped an arm round him and pulled him to his feet. "We'll see. Come on, even if it's just some dry toast to line your stomach, it'd do you the world of good." He placed an arm around Alan's shoulder and led him back into the main room. Now bathed in light, Alan grimaced against the glow and squinted to see where he was going as his father led him to the table.
He plopped into a seat as Jeff removed the tray he'd brought with him only to return a few minutes later bearing two cups of coffee. He sipped at one and placed the other in front of Alan with some ibuprofen as he sat down. "Try to drink some of that and take a couple of those. Do you want some toast or something?" Alan shook his head, sipping cautiously at the coffee. "How about cereal?"
"No thanks Dad." Alan continued to sip at his coffee.
"You should try and eat something Son." Jeff frowned as he fetched a plate of warm toast from the kitchenette. "Come on," He encouraged, "Try some of this." He sat back down, taking a slice of toast for himself and pushing the plate in front of Alan.
The younger man turned his nose up, but knew he wouldn't hear the end of it if he didn't at least try. With a grimace, he took a slice and nibbled on it slowly. Eliciting a satisfied smile from his father, he felt now would be a good time to voice his thoughts.
"Dad, y'know I don't actually have to go today." He began. "And, I really don't feel too good. Maybe I should stay here." He spoke to the coffee mug, not daring to look up at his father's disappointment.
"Son, I know today's going to be difficult for you. It's hard for all of us, but I think you'd feel better if you went." Jeff sighed, watching the despondency with which his young son stared at the steaming coffee. "Avoiding it isn't going to make it go away Alan."
"I know that." Alan mumbled, a little defensively. "I just don't feel well, that's all."
"Son, how much of this," He waved a hand, "You not feeling well, is the pressure of what's going to happen today?" Jeff reached a hand out to his shoulder again, squeezing it slightly. "The headache, stomach ache and sickness; it could just be stress, that and nerves."
"I'm not nervous." Alan rebuked. "I'm fine; I told you I just don't feel well!" He frowned at the squeal his voice had risen to, as much as anything.
Jeff nodded, understanding Alan's anxiousness though he had his doubts about the legitimacy of his words. "Let's see how you feel after you've taken a few of those." He gestured to the tablets, hopefully diffusing the situation. Alan picked them up, pushing two through their foil packaging and promptly swallowing them. "Son, I'm not going to force you do to anything you don't want to. I just think you need to go today for your own good as much as anything else." He prompted cautiously; he knew all to well that his words now had to be carefully chosen. One wrong move or inadvertent insinuation and Alan would explode. Instead, he needed assurance and careful handling.
"So if I don't want to go, that's okay?" Alan asked meekly. He knew deep down it was expected of him and that there was little chance that he would be staying here when the other's left later that morning. However, a tiny part of him wanted the reassurance that he didn't have to. He needed to know that if he really couldn't face it, he had a hiding place; somewhere to seek solitude if it came to that.
Understanding Alan's uncertainty yet knowing that a little fatherly reassurance was all that was needed, Jeff frowned. Alan spent so much time these days convincing them he was an adult, yet the insecurity he oozed now, reminded Jeff he was and always would be, his youngest son. "It's your decision; it's up to you to make the right choice." Alan smirked as he gulped down some of the coffee. Translating his father's words told him that there was a 'right' choice to make, and his father expected him to make it. Sure enough, came the words to corroborate those thoughts. "Sometimes in life, we all have to do things we don't want to Son."
"Yeah." Alan sighed softly. "I figured you'd say something like that."
"There's nothing to be scared off Alan." Jeff squeezed his shoulder for a second time, trying to dispel the anxiety and insecurity Alan obviously felt.
"I'm not scared." Alan shook his head, but regretted it. The defensive tone back in his voice. "Why would I be scared?" He feigned courage.
"Good." Jeff nodded, ignoring the question and shattering the aggressive manner Alan had taken. He knew those words weren't true as much as Alan did, but neither of them questioned their validity for the sake of ease, and pride. "Because today isn't going to change anything." Jeff went on. "I'm proud of you Son, and I always will be." He looked across at Alan sombrely. "Right now, you've got a family that loves you very much. We'll be there and we'll support you, whatever. When you come back here this afternoon, you'll still have that Son; a family that loves you and that will support you. And more importantly; that's proud of you." He paused to reiterate his point. "Today doesn't change a thing. You hear me?" Alan nodded, but he seemed unconvinced and continued to sip at his coffee. "Answer me when I'm talking to you, Alan." Jeff frowned, he spoke in that reprimanding tone that only Jeff Tracy could. "Do you hear me?"
"Yes Father." Came the reply, born more out of duty than faith.
There followed a silence as Alan thought his options through. It was obvious what his father expected him to do, however he had serious doubts if he could walk into that hearing today. Let alone sit and listen to the conclusions and not just because of his churning stomach either. Eventually he looked up to his father sadly. "Dad, why doesn't anything ever go right for us?"
Jeff laughed, finishing off the coffee in his hands he looked at his son in earnest. "Alan, things do go right for us. It just doesn't feel that way right now. Look, you're feeling pretty low, once you get today over and done with, things'll get better." He said with confidence.
"You think I'm feeling sorry for myself?" Alan frowned at him and Jeff could see the seeds of his temper growing again.
"Aren't you?" Jeff questioned, raising his eyebrows and allowing his eyes to shine with the wisdom they held. "I know I am." He scoffed quickly, before Alan could retort angrily. "So much for a nice weekend away with my sons. The first time I take some time off in God knows how long, we're finally all together and look what's happened."
"Are you saying you think that's my fault?" Alan's frown deepened, a familiar ire sparkled in his eyes.
"Quieten down and listen to me." Jeff told him sternly, his eyes quashing Alan's potential anger in an instance. "I'm not saying that at all. I'm saying that when I decided to spend some quality time with my boys, I didn't envisage this. It's bad enough that I hardly get to spend any time with my sons anymore. I don't need disaster weekends like this one ruining what time we do have."
"Don't you ever wonder why things like this happen?" Alan sighed pensively. "I've been racing for years. Why now? Why did everything have to go wrong this weekend, when you guys are all here to watch me make a hash of it?"
"You made a hash of nothing." Jeff told him firmly, he nodded though fully understanding the question. He'd asked it himself countless times after this very son had been born and he'd lost the love of his life. "As for why things happen, well your Grandmother has a theory about that." He smiled, remembering the countless times she'd told him. Usually in the early hours of the morning, after tending to the two youngest and having a scotch to 'help him sleep'.
"Yeah?" Alan looked up hopefully. "What?"
"Well, she says that the world has the potential to do so much good for humanity, therefore it has to have the potential to do the opposite too; to harm humanity." Jeff explained, watching Alan frown and not really comprehend what he was saying. "You see according to her everything has an opposite; life and death, love and hate, good and evil, war and peace. All those things are different sides of the same coins; to have one you have to have the other because to know what one is, you have to have experienced the other. You see?"
Alan nodded uncertainly. "I think so. There has to be a balance?"
"Exactly!" Jeff exclaimed. "Well then for good things to happen, bad things have to happen too. And for real good things to happen in the world, real bad things have to happen as well." Jeff studied Alan's dubious expression. "I'm not explaining this very well, you'd be better off asking her. Do you understand what I'm saying?"
Again, Alan nodded. "So, for good things to happen in the world, bad things have to happen too?" Jeff nodded. "So why do all the bad things happen to me?"
Jeff laughed. "They don't, it just feels that way right now." He waved his hands. "When you're feeling happy, you don't walk down the street thinking about all the things that are going right. Do you?" The question was clearly rhetorical. "You just take it for granted, but when you're feeling sad, you do."
Alan studied his father for a few minutes; as if he was weighing him up. "That's a heap of crap!" He exclaimed, shaking his head. "You don't really believe all that, do you?"
Jeff shrugged, answering with difficulty. "Sometimes, I'm not really sure what I believe Alan. But I like the idea; I'd like to think there's some truth in the principle that what goes around, comes around." He sighed. "And it explains why there's so many bad things happen in the world. The notion that there's an equal amount of good, gives you some kind of comfort."
"I guess." Alan shrugged. "But where's the equality? There's no way all the bad things that happen in this world, are equivalent to the good things. It just doesn't add up." He shook his head, not at all satisfied with this philosophy. He looked to his father for some further explanation.
"Not now maybe, but in time it will." Jeff said cryptically, thinking about how his future plans would work to equal that balance. The thoughts of a younger mind, however, was about to point out a flaw just how he was relating this philosophy to their future.
Alan frowned at him. "So what? In the future people do good things for humanity and the world at large. According to Grandma's philosophy, and what you just said, doesn't that licence the bad guys to just do more? See, it doesn't make sense." Alan sighed. "There isn't a person in this world who hasn't, at some point in their lives, had faith in good prospering over evil. If there's an equal amount of both then that'd mean it doesn't always happen. And what about justice?"
Jeff looked at his youngest son with a critical eye. Alan was constantly joking around with his brothers and rarely displayed such aptitude. He was reminded guiltily, how the youngest of his son's intellectual capabilities were often overlooked.
"Well," Jeff sighed. "Your head must be better to be thinking that clearly." He smiled down at Alan. "Now, how about you go and clean yourself up?" He suggested, watching Alan's reaction critically.
Reluctantly, Alan pushed his chair back and got to his feet. "I guess I'd better." He smirked as he made his way across to the bathroom.
With a sigh, and a small smile, Jeff Tracy sat back and considered his youngest son's words. There was no doubt in his mind that his future plans were the right thing to do, yet Alan had cast a whole new light on his thinking. With a smirk of admiration he sat back in his chair, deep in thought.
XxxxX
"Gordon, he'll be fine." Virgil smiled tightly into the palm sized videophone, as reassuringly as he could. The anxious look of the young man that stared back, told him in no uncertain terms that the words were wasted on him.
"Promise me you'll keep an eye on him." Gordon pleaded, the words flowed quickly and the sentences flowed breathlessly into one. "He needs to know we'll support him whatever happens today, though don't make out like you think it's not going to go his way. That'd just upset him and he'd explode and the last thing we need right now is to upset him even more…"
"Gordon." Virgil butted in, struggling to understand in places. "Stop it. Take a deep breath and relax." He sighed. If the situation wasn't so severe, he might've laughed at Gordon's fretfulness. "Don't worry, I'll look out for him."
"Relax!" Gordon exclaimed. "Virg, this is serious. I don't think you appreciate how important this is. He's going to need your support either way."
"Gordy," Virgil remained patient. "I've been his brother as long as you have; I know how to handle him. Look, I know you're worried but I promise you, whatever happens today I'll make sure he's okay." He sighed and glanced up to Sam, who stood alongside him looking bored. "He's a tough kid Gords."
"Yeah." Gordon ground out without feeling, in response. "He likes everyone to think that." He said despondently. "But he's not as tough as he makes out." He sighed heavily again. "He feels terrible Virg, and he's scared. More scared than he'll admit to being." Gordon eyebrows rose in concern as a new thought struck him. "Have you spoken to him today? I bet he's in a real state already."
"No." Virgil shook his head. "I haven't seen him yet. Dad's up in his room, we're meeting him down here in the lobby." He paused. "We're all nervous Gords, but Al's got nothing to worry about. I'm sure of it."
"What about last night?" Gordon ignored Virgil's optimism, still frowning. His eyes darted about anxiously and moved with almost the same speed as his lips. "He was pretty upset at the airport, how was he after we left?"
"He was bit down in the dumps last night, but we all were." Virgil shrugged. "He's got a lot on his mind at the minute that's all. I said he could sleep in our room if he wanted. We thought he might want the company, y'know?" Gordon's permanent frown nodded in reply. "But he said he wanted some time on his own, so he had an early night."
"And you let him?" Gordon screeched. "He was on his own last night?" He sighed and dropped his head. All Virgil saw was a mass of red hair shaking from side to side. "Damnit!" Gordon exclaimed. "I knew I should have stayed."
"Gordy you didn't have a choice, you couldn't have stayed even if you wanted to. We've been through this." Virgil sighed, he was renowned for his endless supply of patience and he was really having to draw upon it now.
"So you let him stay in that room on his own, all night?" Gordon was beginning to become angry.
"Gordy, he wanted some space." Virgil replied calmly, his eyes holding his brother's gaze and conveying his message. As a result, Gordon seemed to calm somewhat and so Virgil carried on. "Some time to think. He knew where we were if he wanted anything and I went down and checked on him just before midnight. He was fine; in fact, he was sound asleep."
"No sign of any nightmares?" Gordon frowned into the receiver.
"Nope." Virgil shook his head. "I stayed down there for over twenty minutes and he was sleeping like a baby." He paused. "I think the shot glass by his bed had helped him out there though."
Virgil didn't think Gordon's frown could go any deeper but he was wrong. "He'd been drinking?" The aquanaut replied incredulously. His worry heightening to a completely different level, just when Virgil thought he was making progress.
"Don't panic Gordon; he'd only had a few. Besides it's not the crime of the century for him to have a drink, it's not like he's underage." Virgil frowned back. Rules and Regulations weren't something that really troubled this brother. As had been proved on countless occasions when he'd been sent home from school for his 'roguish behaviour', as their grandmother put it. It had always surprised Virgil that Gordon had joined an organisation like the WASP, who instil discipline and restraint into their officers. When Virgil questioned him about his decision at the time, Gordon had insisted he needed the discipline if he was ever going to get anywhere in life; something to curb his hedonism. As Virgil looked at him now, recalling that conversation he was also reminded of Gordon's response when the subject of the tight regulations had been brought up; 'Rules are made to be broken, Virg.' He'd told his brother, a mischievous grin highlighting his flashes eyes.
"He shouldn't be drinking on his own; it's not good for him. Trust me, I know. If he was in a low mood, alcohol will have just made him feel worse." Gordon growled back angrily.
"What aren't you telling me?" Virgil narrowed his eyes suspiciously.
"Is he still taking those painkillers?" Gordon asked pointedly, avoiding the question by asking another.
Virgil shook his head. "He's not stupid Gordon; he wouldn't drink on top of taking painkillers." Gordon was about to jump in and reveal to his brother that he had evidence contrary to that theory. Luckily, Virgil spoke again and the moment passed. "Besides, he said he's only taking them as and when he needs them now. Maybe his shoulder was okay yesterday." As Virgil spoke, a flashing green light in the top right hand corner of the screen alerted him that he had another call waiting.
"Hmm, maybe." Gordon was replying. "Still, he needs to take it easy. Do you think Jack's going to cause a scene again? The last thing Al needs is him having another go at him."
"Gordy, I've got another call. I'll just be a minute." With that, Virgil pressed a few keys on the tiny pad. "Sorry Sam," He said to his companion. "I'll be done in a minute."
"Don't worry about it." The mechanic replied, "He's your brother and he's obviously worried."
"Yeah," Virgil frowned. "And you're my friend." He glanced at the screen before groaning loudly and wiping a hand over his face. "Oh God, it's John." He forced a false smile as he answered the call. "John," He began tersely. "Yes, Alan's fine. No, we haven't left yet. Yes, of course I'll keep an eye on him and, Yes, I'll let you know as soon as I know anything."
John looked back at him with raised eyebrows. "I'll call you back later." He said simply.
"No, John!" Virgil sighed again. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap."
"It's okay," The blonde astronaut replied and he really did understand. Both his brothers were under a lot of strain today. If Virgil voicing his frustrations would help him, John really wasn't too upset about it. "You're busy; I'll talk to you later." He didn't want to keep his brother, but the guilty expression on Virgil's face, told him he was truly sorry for snapping.
"I'm sorry, it's just I've got Gordon on the other line doing a great impression of a mother hen, and it's not exactly a stress-free day for me either." Virgil told him sarcastically. "Are you okay?"
John nodded, "Yeah, I'm fine. I was just calling to check you and Al were okay. I can see you're stressed, I'll call back."
Virgil felt immensely guilty. "John," He shook his head. "We're just waiting for Dad and Al, then we're going to leave. I think he's all right; he seemed okay last night. Well, as 'okay' as we can expect him to be, I guess."
"Hmm, yeah." John nodded thoughtfully, today was going be tough for Alan and Virgil, there was no doubt about that. But, in some respects he and Scott and Gordon had it tougher. Knowing that his brothers were facing such an ordeal and being helpless to be there and support them really got to him. It was a kind of guilt and self loathing mixed with a horrible uncertainty and anxiousness. Together, it equated to a feeling of desolation and helplessness that John Tracy could never remember feeling before. It was a horrible sense of looming despair that he couldn't shake. "I hope everything goes okay." He mumbled distractedly, his brain was somewhere else entirely. "How about you? Are you okay?" He tried to read his brother, but he couldn't be sure if the lines of worry were caused by Gordon or Alan.
"I'm fine." Virgil nodded. It was fast becoming second nature. "Stressed, but I'm fine. To be honest John, I'll just be pleased when this whole damned thing is over."
"I know it's going to be tough for you today, but try and take it easy huh?" John winced, at the words. He knew as he said them that Virgil certainly wouldn't be taking it easy today. He had to try though. Despite Virgil's ignorance, he knew just what his older brother had been through and he knew how important it was for Virgil to stay as calm as possible. "How's the ribs?"
"Not too bad, still a little sore." Virgil replied honestly. "I'll live though."
John nodded. "I won't keep you any longer. Let me know how it goes." He smiled, but his eyes told Virgil he was just as anxious as Gordon was. "Take care of him for me."
"I will." Virgil nodded again, another wave of guilt suddenly overwhelming him. "I'm sorry I snapped Johnny, I just…"
"It's okay." The blonde man smiled. "I understand. Really, I do. Listen, I'll talk to you tonight."
Virgil smiled back, that was so typical of this particular brother; so understanding. "Sure," He sighed. "Thanks John."
"You'd better get back to Gordon before he gives himself an aneurysm." John grinned. "Take care." He winked, before he closed down the line. He meant those last words more than Virgil, perceptive as he was, could possibly understand.
With a heavy sigh, Virgil turned back to Gordon. "Gordon," He was surprised when there was no image of his brother. "Gordon? You still there?"
"You really need to change that music, Virg." Gordon's image returned. Turning his face in disgust, he screwed his nose up. "It's torture!"
Virgil took a deep breath to calm himself. "It's Beethoven Gordon, just because you don't have an artistic bone in your body doesn't mean other's don't." When Gordon looked back at him blankly, he shook his head. "You wouldn't understand." He sighed.
"Listen," Gordon was saying. "The Jamison's are going to be there, aren't they?" When Virgil nodded, he went on. "You're going to have to keep him away from them; the last thing he needs is another face off with Jack, not today."
Virgil nodded; he had to agree with that. Suddenly a thought struck him as to why Gordon was spending so much time on the 'phone to him. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Gordon, have you spoken to Al this morning?"
The aquanaut shook his head guiltily. "No, if he sees I'm this nervous it'll just make him even worse." He continued to shake his head. "I can't Virg."
Virgil had to grin. "Good." He sighed in relief before smiling up reassuringly at his younger brother. "Now do you think you cold stop making me even more nervous. Don't you have a job to do?"
"Yeah." Gordon sighed. "I'm sorry Virg," He felt suddenly bad for offloading this responsibility for Alan's welfare onto Virgil, when he knew his older brother wasn't well either. "I'm just worried about him." Gordon tried to explain with difficulty. He shrugged again and heaved a heavy sigh. "Sorry."
Virgil looked at him sympathetically. "Don't be. I know you're worried Gords, we all are. And, I know you wish you could be here, but I promise you. I'll take good care of him for you." He spoke sincerely, not even able to comprehend what it was like for Gordon being so far away.
Gordon nodded again. "Thanks Virg." He sighed. "I'm sorry if I went on a bit, I just…" He trailed off and sighed yet again. "I'd better go. Talk to you later." He smiled but his eyes mirrored John's and Virgil found it difficult to smile back. "Oh, Virgil." The young redhead hesitated half way through terminating the call. "Remind him to call me as soon as it's over, okay?"
Virgil smiled, unsurprised by the last minute reminder. "Of course I will. Talk to you later."
"Bye." Came the simple yet equally distraught reply.
With a sigh, Virgil flicked the videophone shut and tried to forget about both his younger brothers' anxiousness. It would only make him more nervous anyway, if that were possible, he surmised. He turned his attention back to Sam. The mechanic was stood alongside him, holding a white envelope. His fingers flicked at the corners anxiously, and the paper crumbled under his attempt's to smooth it out.
"It's a bit late to be writing home Sam." Virgil joked. Sam immediately put the envelope in his jacket pocket, crumpling it even more in his haste. He looked up at Virgil with panic stricken eyes. "What is it?" Virgil asked.
"Nothing." The mechanic replied quickly, shaking his head. He glanced at his watch. "Your Dad's been a long time up there. You think we should go get him?" He suggested.
"Nah," Virgil replied, screwing his nose up. "Dad'll be fine, I'll bet he's giving Alan a lecture on how to cope today." He turned to his friend. "Let's talk about you. You okay?"
XxxxX
"Well, how do I look?" Alan asked, as he emerged from the bathroom.
Jeff turned to study his appearance, smiling at the change in Alan's tone of voice from earlier. Hair tamed and neatly combed back, colour returning to his cheeks; Alan looked every bit the fine young man, even if he was still a little pale. "Much better." Jeff grinned, as the young man picked up his tie and proceeded to the mirror. "You look very smart and handsome."
Alan frowned, "Yeah right." He scoffed. "I hate suits." He struggled to fasten the tie, undoing if for a second time and trying again. "You'd think Ferrari would insist on red, wouldn't you? Y'know that being their trade mark colour and everything." He gestured to the black suit jacket that hung from the doorway. "I'd love to see Virgil's face if they did. I suppose red isn't really a good colour for suits. We'd look like those old air hostesses, like in the movies." He smiled to himself lamely, as he babbled. "I suppose we'd stand out, you wouldn't miss us in red would you? But then again, I suppose sometimes they don't want us to stand out. I mean like today, the media'll be there, won't they? It's better if we blend in with a crowd." He sighed. Becoming frustrated with his attempts to do his tie, he pulled the garment from round his neck with a snap and threw it on his bed. He glanced at his watch. "We should be leaving soon. Are Virgil and Sam ready?" Jeff just looked at him with raised eyebrows. Taking in his father's expression Alan sighed and closed his eyes. "God! Listen at me." He shook his head. "I'm babbling, I'm turning into Gordon. He does that when he's nerv…" He trailed off, realising what he was about to admit to. "I'm not really nervous," He added quickly, "Just…" Again, he let the sentence trail off. "Are Sam and Virgil ready?" He asked again.
Jeff picked up the tie and took the apprehensive young man by the shoulders. "Virgil and Sam are waiting downstairs." He squeezed the young blonde's shoulders. "Everything's in hand. Calm down." Alan took in a breath and nodded slightly, he smiled up at his father apologetically. "Now, let's see if we can get this tie fixed." He reached out to fasten the top button of the crisp white shirt, and went about fastening the tie. "Look at me; I want you to listen to me." He waited until Alan was looking directly at him, before continuing, wrapping silk over silk as he spoke. "You've got nothing to be nervous about, or ashamed of, you hear me? You should be proud of yourself; you walk in that room with your head held high. Tall and strong, okay?"
Alan nodded with difficulty as Jeff hand's smoothed the silk round his neck, "I'll try."
"You will." Jeff told him firmly, as he folded his collar down and straightened the smooth knot. "We'll be right behind you Son. I meant what I said." He nodded as he held out the black suit jacket for Alan, who obediently placed his arms in the sleeves. "I'm proud of you." He said sincerely, as he brushed the jacket shoulders and stood back; beaming with dignity. His gaze drifted to the motif on the breast pocket of the jacket but he purposely stopped his vision lingering. "Come on, the boys will be waiting downstairs." He placed a hand round Alan's shoulders, realising the young man was trembling. He seemed reluctant. "Son?" Jeff queried, frowning at the young man who suddenly seemed so frail and vulnerable.
"It'll be okay, Dad. Won't it?" Alan asked anxiously, biting on his bottom lip.
Despite the sadness he felt at Alan's delicate appearance, Jeff nodded. "Of course it will be Son." He said as he rubbed his shoulders whilst guiding him to the door. With one deep breath, Jeff pulled the door closed behind them and stepped out into the hallway. Hoping that by the time they returned all this would be well and truly, over.
XxxxX
Virgil studied Sam as he looked at his watch for what felt like the tenth time in the last two minutes; he was clearly becoming agitated.
"We really need to be leaving soon. Otherwise we're going to be late; are you sure we shouldn't at least call your Father?" The young mechanic turned to his companion with anxious eyes. Around them, the reception area of the large hotel buzzed with life.
"I'm sure." Virgil replied calmly, his vision drifted around the area where they stood. Taking in all the other people who went about their business, oblivious to them. Their lives happy and worry-free. He turned back to Sam, ignoring the desire to be one of them. "Dad's never late for anything; don't worry." He assured his friend. Calm as always in a crisis.
"Hmm," Sam shrugged, glancing yet again at his watch. "There's a first time for everything." He muttered unhappily, as he began to pace up and down. Virgil watched him sympathetically.
"Sam, would you just relax, Dad'll…" He trailed off, pointing a finger passed Sam's shoulder. "Look, there they are."
Sam breathed an audible sigh of relief as Alan and Jeff approached. Meanwhile, Virgil's gaze immediately went to his youngest brother, he began assessing Alan's appearance. The blonde seemed a little shaky and pale; but Virgil put it down to nerves. He tried to catch the younger man's eye and smiled in an effort to appear supportive. Alan attempted to return it lamely, but ended up looking away instead.
"Are you ready boys?" Jeff looked between the mechanic and his second eldest son in anticipation. An arm draped around Alan's shoulders protectively told Virgil his younger brother was feeling apprehensive. Alan would never have allowed such on open display otherwise.
"Yeah, Mr Tracy." Sam responded verbally as Virgil just nodded, too caught up in his evaluation to comment. "We need to leave pretty soon Sir, or else we're going to be late." Sam continued to worry.
"Yes, you're right." Jeff nodded, pulling his sleeve back to glance at his watch. "I hadn't realised how late it was getting; we do need to be leaving."
Virgil ignored the conversation and surreptitiously watched as Alan tried to avoid his gaze. He only looked up when he heard another voice enter the mix.
"Ah, Mr Tracy, you've been alluding me." Virgil recognised the man that walked towards them as Mr Johnson. The hotel manager who had interrupted their 'brawl' on the night of the crash. His demeanour was certainly different now, as he walked towards them with a big false grin on his face. Virgil glanced up at his father in admiration; whatever he'd said to the man that night, it'd had an affect. "I've been trying to contact you; you weren't in your room."
Virgil watched their father try to repress a grin at the pompous man; it reminded him irrefutably of Gordon. "Mr Johnson, yes, I've haven't been in my room." Jeff was loathe to give an alibi, despite the fact Mr Johnson made clear it was what he expected.
After a few minutes of anticipation filled silence, the greying man finally got the message and fiddled with his hands nervously. "Oh, I see." He cleared his throat, looking to Sam, Virgil and then Alan.
Virgil could see him studying his youngest brother, screwing his nose up as he did. The chestnut haired man didn't like the way he looked down his nose and was about to comment, when thankfully, his father spoke. "Is there something I can help you with Mr Johnson?"
"Hmm?" The manager drew his gaze to face Jeff Tracy's expectant eyebrows. "Oh, err." He cleared his throat again. "Actually Sir, it was more something I could do to assist you." He paused to grin with almost a manic inclination; Alan and Virgil rolled their eyes before exchanging exasperated looks. Virgil grinned at the situation, Alan didn't.
"Mr Johnson, we're a little short of time at the moment. We should be leaving." Their father was responding curtly. "If this isn't important…" He purposely looked at his watch again; prompting the manager to continue.
"Well, as a matter of fact, Mr Tracy." The manager grinned again, this time also nodding. "It's your departure I wished to talk to you about." Virgil could see his father was tiring of this man's haughty manner. Half of him hoped the manager would go away, the other half wanted him to continue to annoy his father. Virgil knew he'd feel a little more than content, should his father feel the need to quash the annoying little man, like a bug. Unfortunately Mr Johnson spoke again. "I've arranged for your car to be brought round to the rear of the hotel, in the west wing. I've just personally checked and the coast is clear, so to speak." He laughed, slimily. "I thought you might appreciate a little discretion, Sir." He glanced at Alan before pointedly turning to the front doors. Jeff knew there would be a mass of reporters out there.
Virgil couldn't help but grin at the disappointment on Mr Johnson's face when Jeff Tracy appeared less than amused. "I appreciate that, Mr Johnson." Their father replied, in his big, powerful voice. "However it'd be prudent to also remind you that discretion has nothing to do with it. We have nothing to hide, but neither of my sons are one hundred percent fit at this moment in time. The last thing either of them need is hounding by the press."
"Absolutely, Mr Tracy." Mr Johnson was nodding erratically. "I understand entirely." He reached an arm out, gesturing down a corridor. "If you'd come this way."
"You okay Kid?" Virgil asked Alan softly as they followed their father and Sam. Alan's eyes barely met Virgil's as he nodded unsteadily and looked to the floor as they walked. It seemed it was the only reply Virgil was likely to get, for now anyway.
Proceeding to the car, Jeff breathed a sigh of relief as he shut the door. Placing a considerably large barrier between himself and Mr Johnson; he looked up to the rear view mirror. "You alright boys?" Virgil nodded in response. In the corner of his eye, he saw Sam nod distractedly whilst entering the required information into the computer system. Obediently it sprang to life.
"Good Morning, Mr Tracy." The computerised female voice came through the speakers, it went on to robotically repeat further useless information. Including amongst other things, the day, time and weather forecasts. Jeff ignored it with a practiced ease.
"The way that man goes on, anyone'd think we were royalty." Jeff smiled but the joke fell on deaf ears elsewhere, and he sighed resignedly. "Okay." He groaned as he pulled away and into the waiting traffic. "Here we go."
XxxxX
The journey had become tedious and the anxious friction had only augmented as time went on. Compensating for the increasingly tense atmosphere, Jeff had turned on the radio. The background noise helped ease the ominous silence; however, he found his thumb resting on the stereo control moulded into the steering wheel. At even the hint of any upcoming news broadcast, he was flicking to other stations. Virgil watched him with a thoughtful smile of admiration; it was obvious he was doing everything in his power to protect Alan from this dreadful experience. His gaze drifted to his youngest brother, sat opposite him Alan stared out the window aimlessly at the passing scenery.
"Hey," Virgil tried to keep his voice low so as not to alert their father, however the music meant that Alan hadn't heard. "Al!" He reached a hand out to his brother's knee and Alan's head snapped up. A little too quickly, if the wave of nausea that hit him was anything to go by. "You alright?" Virgil asked, his eyes so wide and full of empathy.
Alan just nodded. "Yeah I told you, I'm fine." His haunted eyes told Virgil different but nonetheless, he sat back and let his brother speak. "Are you? How are your ribs?"
Virgil shrugged. "Fine, don't worry about that. Not today." He was surprised when Alan turned to him with angry eyes.
"I'm not stupid, y'know?" He said, distrustfully glaring at his older brother. He was wound up tighter than a coiled spring, and similarly was ready to pounce at the slightest comment he didn't appreciate.
"I know that." Eager to avoid any hostility, Virgil nodded. "You asked if I was okay and I'm telling you I feel fine."
"You're lying." Alan accused bluntly. "You must think I'm really stupid, if you expect me to believe that." He eyed Virgil dangerously. The tension in his shoulders spreading to every muscle in his body, he clenched his fists, ready to defend his maturity. Thankfully though, he took a few moments to take in his brother's expression; wide deep brown eyes overflowing with empathy and love, and an expression that showed only how much he cared. The concerned frown that he found himself on the end of was enough to dissipate the rising anger inside him, and he sat back with a sigh. He let himself flop back against the leather seats and suddenly felt ashamed of himself. After his altercation with Gordon, he was determined he would keep a better check on his temper. "Virg, I'm so sorry." He sighed again. "I didn't mean to sound unkind." He nervously met Virgil's gaze once before looking up again and holding it, anxiously. "It's just… I know you're hurt worse than you're making out."
"Al," Virgil sighed, squeezing his knee silently. "I'm fine; I wouldn't tell you I was, if I wasn't."
Alan debated that point in his head; he knew any of his older brothers would do anything to protect him. Yet right now, he didn't feel it was the right time to discuss it, he screwed his face up as he sighed again. "God, I…" He trailed off as his father changed radio station and there was a silent delay. "I wish Gordy was here." He carried on, as music made its way through the speakers once more.
"Oh thanks!" Virgil exclaimed, sitting back with a sigh. He grinned and shook his head good naturedly. "There's gratitude for you." Virgil grinned, but it became evident that Alan had taken him seriously.
Alan looked up, immediately apologetic. "Virg, I didn't mean…" He stuttered.
"It's okay." Virgil laughed, attempting to put him at some kind of ease. "I know what you mean. I kind of wish he was here too, at least then he wouldn't be running my phone battery dead." He grinned to himself. Taking in Alan's vacant expression, he explained further. "He called me this morning, was on the 'phone for over an hour making me promise I'd keep an eye on you."
Alan smirked despondently. "He said he'd call but he never did." He frowned. "I thought it was because he couldn't face telling me it'd be okay, when he knew it wouldn't be. Y'know?" Virgil felt for his brother as he spoke those words with such despair. "He knows I'll know that he's lying."
"No, Al." Virgil shook his head. "That's not it." He sighed again. "That's not it at all. Al, Gordy's really cut up that he couldn't be here. He didn't call you this morning because he felt terrible that he was so far away, that he couldn't be here for you. That's why he spent over an hour lecturing me on how to look after you." Alan looked across to his brother, his eyes questioning the validity of those words. Virgil just nodded, "Really."
Alan shrugged, he couldn't help the relieved smile that tugged at his lips. "I don't need looking after." He said half heartedly. The lack of authenticity in those words told Virgil it was all he wanted though; to be protected by his family and looked after until all this was over.
"The reason Gordon isn't here, isn't because he doesn't want to be. You understand that, don't you?" Virgil frowned, it was important Alan understood. "If Gordy could be here, he would be. Trust me, John told me he was even contemplating chucking it all in to be with you today." Virgil wasn't sure how Alan'd react to that news and watched him carefully for a reaction.
Alan frowned too. "He was?" He asked, slightly surprised.
Virgil nodded. "Well, he spoke about it to me. And apparently, the last night he was here he was talking to John about how much he wanted to stay here with you. You know how important his work is to him; he was in a terrible position, they can be pretty strict when they want to be. And you know he never really had a choice, don't you?" Alan nodded distractedly, still trying to comprehend what he was being told. He was surprised Gordon hadn't spoken to him about it. "Scott and John too, they'd all be here if they could be."
"Yeah," Alan whispered back. "He loves it being with the WASP," He shook his head. "He'd really put all that on the line so as he could have been here?"
"If I'm honest I think it was more what he wanted to happen than what was going to happen in reality, maybe it was the drink talking…" Virgil shrugged before he began nodding. "But yeah, he would; you mean the world to him." He hesitated. "To all of us."
Alan took a deep breath, nodding. "Thanks, Virg." He smiled, as he swallowed.
"Well," Virgil grinned jovially. "Who would we gang up on, if we didn't have you? Huh?" He joked playfully, as he smiled widely. Trying desperately to lighten the mood in the knowledge that it would be exactly what Gordon would do.
Alan grinned, feeling a little better until he was reminded of the implications of today. His smile suddenly fell. "Well, you'd better get used to the idea." He said glumly.
"Alan…" Virgil tried to lighten his mood. "Come on," He reached out to the younger man's shoulder, attempting to provide comfort. "There's no point worrying about it until it's happened."
"What if it does happen though?" Alan asked desolately, only just glancing up to his older brother anxiously. "What if they take my licence away? Or what if they decide I was negligent? What if the Jamison's sue me…"
"Alan!" Virgil was shaking his head, intent on stopping the endless list. "Al, we'll cross those bridges as we come to them. Okay?"
Alan shrugged. "Yeah, I guess. I'm sorry." Turning to look out the window as the other cars flew past, he thought for a while about the 'what ifs'. He was alerted to Virgil squeezing his shoulder again and turned back to his brother.
"I know it's hard, but try not to think about it huh?" He smiled gently, knowing the words were useless and feeling inadequate that he couldn't do better.
"Did Scott call you this morning?" Alan asked suddenly, changing the subject completely.
"No." Virgil frowned, "Last time he called was to tell me they'd all got home safe. He spoke to you this morning though, didn't he?" He was pleased that Alan had moved on from dwelling on today's hearing and hurried to move the conversation on.
Alan nodded. "Yeah, yeah he did." A grin suddenly broke out. "He told me to keep an eye on you." Alan sniffed as he faced Virgil's scowl, and then laughed outright. "Scott said you'd do that; told me not to tell you. That you'd get mad, but he's worried you'll overdo it." The younger man paused once more. "I know Scott worries about everything, but there was something about him this morning. He was so serious."
"Scott's always serious." Virgil attempted to shrug off the worry his eldest brother had inadvertently caused in the youngest. "You know how he is; he's just overreacting. It's Scott."
Before Alan could question what Virgil was telling him. The car pulled between two iron gates and into an influx of bright, flashing lights. "Guess we're here then." Sam mumbled from the front seat as Jeff muted the radio.
"Listen boys, I'll handle the photographers." He said as he turned off the ignition. The computer called out a monotonous farewell as the purring engine petered out. "I want you boys to just concentrate on getting inside. Okay?" Three nodding heads confirmed their allegiance to the orders. "Right, Sam you stick close to Alan. Virgil, you stay with me."
Virgil took one look at Alan's face and came to an abrupt decision. "No Dad, I'll take Alan." Having seen Alan's hesitation when they'd pulled through the gates, Virgil thought his brother could do with having at least either himself or their father protecting him from the circling vultures.
"No," Jeff was shaking his head. "You're in no condition." Alan frowned at Virgil at his father's words. "Alan needs to make it to those doors in one piece; one knock in the wrong place and you'd be flat on your back again."
Virgil winced as his father spoke. Grimacing, he felt Alan's eyes boring into him; he looked to the heavens before glaring at his father through the rear view mirror.
"What do you mean 'again'?" Alan's frown deepened as he looked to his father who was just shaking his head. He turned to Virgil, demanding some response from his brother. "Virgil, what does he mean 'again'?"
"Look Al," Virgil replied as calmly as he could. "We don't have time to argue about this now. Let's go." Before anyone could argue, he'd opened the car door and was making his way out. Thankfully, the others followed suit.
For Alan, his father's words though unintentional, sparked yet more unrest. The journey through the mass of reporter's and the public alike was blurred. He buried his head in Virgil's shoulder and let him lead them both inside; Alan's mind was far too busy repeatedly trying to grasp what his father had said to really take any notice.
"Mr Tracy, can you confirm …", "Mr Tracy, how do you feel about….", "Mr Tracy is it true…", "Mr Tracy why aren't …."
The jumble of voices that began as soon as they stepped outside, where soon silenced with a practiced ease. "Ladies and Gentleman, we will be making no comment on today's dealings until after the preliminary hearing, when a statement to the press will be made. Now, if you'll excuse me…"
He didn't give them a chance to reply.
Inside, a very different type of interrogation was taking place as Alan pulled himself away from Virgil's shoulder with force.
"What did he mean 'again', Virgil?" Alan asked. Unmasked fear and emotion causing his eyes to swell with tears. Anger at being kept in the dark and concern for his brother's health manifested itself in the aggressive retort.
"Al, it's no big deal…" Virgil attempted to reach out for his brother's shoulders but Alan pulled away again, angrily.
"If it's no big deal why is everyone lying to me!" He exclaimed loudly. "This has something to do with Sunday, doesn't it?" He voice rose as he spoke. "And why Scott was so adamant we couldn't go out. Why won't you stop treating me like a kid! Someone just tell me!" His final words echoed around the porch way, hollowly.
"Okay, okay!" Virgil raised his hands in surrender. "I'll tell you. Just calm down, alright?" Alan allowed Virgil to place his hands on his shoulders. "Take a few deep breathes and calm down." He repeated in a soothing tone. "We didn't tell you because we didn't want you to worry; you've got enough stress at the moment without having to deal with any more." He began as Alan calmed down. "It was nothing, I swear to you. I just … passed out…" He groaned, it sounded so dramatic when he said it like that. "It wasn't as bad as it sounds."
"Passed out?" Alan frowned, screwing his face up as he leant back against the wall. Comprehension came slowly. "Because you were hurt? Because of the crash?" His frown deepened as he realised the true consequences of the crash that, in his mind, he'd caused.
"No," Virgil immediately shook his head. "Not because of the crash. Because I did something very stupid…. I pushed myself too hard, too quickly and I paid the price. It's nothing to do with the crash, it was my own fault." He paused to give Alan time to take that in, wanting him to understand that the younger man was blameless. "And I'm fine now."
"I had no idea it was that bad." Alan whispered, he looked up to his brother. "I'm so sorry Virg."
"It's not that bad." Virgil told him sternly. "Al, you don't have to apologise." He sighed heartily. At a loss for what else to say or do to convince his brother, he wrapped his arms around the young blonde's shoulders. Feeling Alan flop into the embrace without resistance. "I'm fine." He whispered again, as he felt Alan tremble against him. "You can hold me. I'm not going to fall apart, I promise." He joked, when he realised Alan was being particularly gentle. Slowly but surely, Alan's grip on his brother increased until the embrace was returned with the same sentiment. "I'm okay, you're okay and after today, we'll all be okay." Virgil smiled into the blonde hair that tickled against his face. "Okay?" He asked as he saw Sam and his father approaching.
Alan nodded into Virgil's suit jacket. "Okay." Came the muffled reply.
"Good." Virgil sighed as he stood back, smiling reassuringly. He took Alan by the shoulders, and leant down until they were level, their eyes locking. "It's going to be alright." He said with as much conviction as he could muster. As the other two men approached, he hoped it was enough.
"They're about to start." Sam smiled nervously. As he gestured to a wide corridor and they began their way along it. He chatted nervously to Alan as Jeff purposely held back.
"Virgil son, I'm sorry about what happened in the car…" Jeff began as he shook his head. "I let my mouth run away with itself." Virgil never thought he'd hear Jeff Tracy utter those words in his lifetime. His father was the most level headed and controlled man he knew; he rarely let emotion get the better of him. Yet today, Virgil understood his father's uncharacteristic slip; it wasn't exactly a normal day.
"It's okay Dad," The second eldest son smiled back as he placed a hand on his father's shoulder. "Everything's going to be okay." Jeff nodded despite his own hesitancy, he admired Virgil's optimism as they followed Sam and Alan down the corridor slowly. Deep down inside he knew Virgil was convincing himself as much as the others. The signs were all there that the second eldest of his sons was only just holding it together himself.
Thankfully, Jeff took the lead as they entered the room itself; Alan took a deep breath as he followed his father inside. He didn't really know what to expect on the other side of the big, mahogany double doors and prepared himself mentally for the worst. Suddenly, nerves got the better of him and he hesitated, turning back to Virgil, who was stood behind him.
"I don't think I can do this Virgil." He whispered timidly; the anxiousness in his voice was only a tiny representation of what he felt inside.
"Yes you can." Came back the strong, unwavering voice of his consistently steady older brother. A hand rubbed at his shoulder in a gesture of unconditional support. "I'll be right behind you. You can do this. Now, come on."
With one last deep breath, Alan closed his eyes tightly. His thoughts in turmoil over what he'd just learned and feeling semi-naked that he didn't have his soul mate their to support him, Alan Tracy stepped forward to face an uncertain future.