This is the final chapter! An epilogue will be posted shortly, but after that...
I'd just like to say thankyou to all of you who reviewed this story. Your support and enthusiasm really made a difference and has helped me to improve as a writer (hopefully..) So, until next time, Abduction fans! Keep an eye out for the sequel to this story, entitled "Aftermath"
Love always, Boann xxx
Virgil yawned as he walked slowly down the hospital hall. His muscles were stiff and sore and his brain longed for coffee. It had taken a little while for Alan to fall asleep completely. During that time Virgil had perched himself rather uncomfortably on the metal side of the bed above his little brother's head, gently talking to him whenever Alan would moan in pain.
Dr Fletcher had finally arrived and given Alan a painkiller. After that, Virgil had gratefully left the room. It was strange. For so long he had yearned to see his brother again. To touch him and hold him and tell him everything was alright. But now that he could, he had never felt more miserable.
He hated seeing Alan in pain. After dealing with many of his brothers' injuries whilst on a mission, Virgil had built a shield around himself. He'd learned to push aside his feelings and his fears of hearing any of his brothers' pain filled cries. He'd learned to focus on what had to be done and what had to be sacrificed.
Alan's first injury on the field had been hard. Alan had dislocated his knee after falling down a mineshaft. Virgil had been the one who relocated it, who had to endure his brother's screams. But because he had acted quickly with the relocation, there had been no lasting damage to Alan's knee and after a couple of weeks he was fine.
But now the shield around him was slowly collapsing under the strain. Physical injury, he could fix, but emotional? Virgil had never felt so helpless.
He'd tried to be strong. He had tried to hold it together for his family. But he felt that if he had stayed in that room a minute longer, he would have crumbled.
Therefore he had been only too glad to offer to contact Lady Penelope to inform her of the current state of things and grab a coffee for everyone.
He sighed as he reached the coffee machine, only to be bumped into by a man.
"Sorry," he mumbled, not even looking up.
"Not to worry, Mr Tracy" said the man.
Virgil jumped at being addressed and looked up. The man was in his late thirties with blonde hair on his steadily balding head. Virgil couldn't picture his face from anywhere. "I'm sorry, how do you know who I am?" he asked, puzzled.
The man let out a sound that was halfway between a scoff and a chuckle. "I don't think there's anyone who wouldn't know who the Tracy's are at the moment," he said.
The man's words were taking a while to sink into Virgil's already muddled head. "At the moment?" he questioned.
"Of course," said the man, with a smile. "After all that business with Peter Corper and your brother. Tell me, how did you feel about losing your brother to a homicidal maniac? Angry? Vengeful? Scared?"
The man's questions were only confusing Virgil even more. ""What?"
The man's smile didn't falter. "Did you receive any warning signs? Is it possible that your brother simply ran away with the wrong man?
"What? Don't you dare say that! He would never…" exclaimed Virgil, still not even sure who this man was.
" It's not uncommon for the sons of rich men to throw in the towel now, is it? Sometimes you can't stop these things. Money can't fix everything, dare I say?. Sometimes we just need to face certain truths," the man sneered.
"I don't know who you are, but you have no right to say any of that. Now get out of here!" shouted Virgil, anger welling up inside of him and tears forming in the corners of his eyes.
The man paid no attention to him. "And how about your father? One of the most illusive men in the world rampaging around the state commandeering the U.S police force as if he were-"
"Hey!" a voice called.
Virgil spun around to see Scott striding towards them. His heart leapt for joy, yet sank at the thought of Scott seeing him so worked up.
"What do you think you're doing?" Scott asked the man.
"Another Tracy! This is my lucky day!" smiled the man, "Mind if I take a few photos?"
Virgil was horrified as the man pulled out a camera, but before he had a chance to react, Scott sent his fist into the man's jaw, sending him flying. Nurses and admin staff on duty let out cries of alarm.
"Get out of here!" Scott yelled, standing protectively in front of Virgil, "If I catch you here again, you'll wish you back writing for your school newspaper!"
By now, security had been called.
"What's going on here?" one of them demanded, his hands resting on his belt.
"Tabloids sniffing around and giving people a hard time, as always. Get him out of here," Scott told him, with a commanding tone that could match his father's.
Security pulled the man to his feet and began leading him out.
Scott turned to face Virgil, "You okay?"
Virgil continued to stare at the spot where the reporter had fallen. He clenched his teeth together in an effort to cage the emotions welling up inside him. Finally it was too much and he let out a cry and fell back against the wall.
"Hey, Virg!" Scott's hands grasped his shoulders, holding him upright. "What's wrong?"
Tears rolled down Virgil's face. "Everything, that's what's wrong!" he cried out. "Everything's so screwed and I can't do anything about it! I can't take just sitting around here anymore! It's driving me crazy!"
He slid to the floor, holding his head in his hands. "I can't do this anymore, Scott. I'm not…I'm not strong enough."
Scott's hands didn't leave his shoulders. "Yes, you are, Virg. Look, we're all under a lot of pressure. We're not going to be spared the drama, here. We all took this hard. We've just got to make sure we keep talking to each other. We're in this together. All of us," he said.
Virgil sighed, leaning his head back against the wall. "Kind of ironic huh? I get through stitching you guys up after rescues but I can't handle this," he said, quietly.
Scott raised his eyebrows. "You get through stitching us up? Virgil, when it comes to that, you're relentless! I remember you straddling me once to keep me from moving!" he said, smiling.
Virgil let out a small laugh. "That's just a shield," he said, sadly. "It's not bravery, it's fake and it's forced."
"Well, the difference between dealing with that and dealing with this is that you don't have to use a shield. You can let it out and lean on us for support," said Scott, "You can't bottle this up. You won't. Promise?"
Virgil let out a shaky breath, before nodding.
"Good man," said Scott, rubbing his shoulder and helping him to his feet. "What do you say we head to the café and talk?"
"What about the others? I was supposed to get them all some coffee," Virgil cringed, suddenly remembering.
"They can wait," said Scott, grasping his brother's arm firmly and dragging him down the hall.
It was as if the world had been lifted off Virgil's shoulders.
TBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTB
Gordon sat beside Alan, his chins resting on his arms, which lay folded on the bed. He wished Virgil would hurry up with that coffee. His dad sat silently stroking Alan's hand on the opposite side of the bed, whilst John and Scott had gone out.
Despite the seriousness of the situation, Gordon mumbled aloud, "I'm bored."
It was the first time he had heard his father laugh in weeks.
"I'm glad," said Jeff, once he'd recovered.
Gordon had to smile.
"Hey, Dad," he said, "When are we going home?"
Jeff sighed. "Hopefully within the next few days. I think Alan will feel better at home," he replied.
"Are you going to call Steve Crain?" Gordon asked, tentatively. Steve Crain was an old friend of Jeff's and one of the first to be entrusted with the secret of International Rescue. He was also a highly rated psychologist. The whole family trusted him with their thoughts, most regarding the pressuring issues relating to their arduous work. Although Alan had only ever known Steve formally, it was clear that psychological advice was needed in his case.
"I think it's a definite possibility," replied Jeff, "We'll see how he goes."
Gordon nodded, solemnly. Suddenly Alan began to moan and shift around in the bed. Jeff and Gordon were at his side instantly.
"Alan, wake up. It's okay," Gordon called, the way he would whenever he found his brother struggling through a nightmare.
Alan's struggles grew stronger and his cries became panic stricken.
"Alan," Jeff called, giving Alan a small shake. "Alan, Shhhh, it's okay."
Alan thrashed in Jeff's hold, his cries becoming screams.
"Alan! Alan, it's alright, open your eyes, please," Jeff called, griping Alan's shoulder's even more firmly.
Gordon finally caught on. "Dad, let him go!" he cried, pushing Jeff's hands away.
Alan stopped yelling immediately and his thrashing slowly ceased. Instead he curled into a foetal position facing Gordon, shivering.
"Alan?" Gordon tried, gently putting a hand on his brother's shoulder.
Alan jerked awake with another cry, his eyes darting.
"Alan, it's okay," Gordon repeated, bending closer towards his brother.
Alan suddenly pushed him away before leaning over the bed and vomiting onto the floor. Gordon put an arm around him to support him. "It's okay. Calm down. We've got you."
Jeff rubbed his son's back, softly comforting him. Gordon exchanged a glance with his father as the two shared the same thought.
It's just beginning.