Saving Alan Chapter 8
Trigger Warning: Subjects of self-harm, suicidal ideation, and abuse from a teacher.
On Sunday morning Alan woke reluctantly. He didn't want to greet the day, or any person, for that matter, but his mind was resolutely awake. He didn't know why he was so alert, sith Virgil's constant neurological checks on John (whose bed was immediately next to his in the medbay), and with so much to think through and process from the horrifying day before, it seemed as though nobody got much sleep. There was a chance everybody was still asleep and Alan would have some time to himself to think. He risked opening his eyes just a crack and peeked into the dimly lit medbay. John was still asleep, but the bed his father had occupied the night before was already empty. That shouldn't surprise him, his father always had been an early riser, he looked at his watch to see that it was already 7 and he knew that his father usually woke by 6. Alan breathed out a sigh of relief and allowed his eyes to fully open, his head sinking heavily into the pillow.
The night before Alan had been immediately relieved that his family hadn't turned their backs on him. His mind had been eased to hear his father say that they would work everything out as a family. He had been initially annoyed that Jeff and Virgil even suggested spending the night in the medbay, he felt his privacy was being violated by them searching through his room and pulling out dangerous things like sharps and long cords. He had been furious that evening that his father had searched through his school backpack and found the blade that he had relied on so many times. He was so ready to put this Hell behind him, but leaving the blade in his backpack felt like a safety net for him. Now it was gone. It made him feel oddly alone. When he reflected back on the first twelve hours since everybody found out, he realized that as annoying as it was, he felt a sense of security and hope that his family cared enough to watch him. But he also felt a bit overwhelmed by being constantly watched, and now all his brothers were mother henning him in overdrive. He wasn't allowed to be out of sight for more than an hour at a time, somebody was scheduled to look in on him around the clock and that person would report back to everybody else that he was okay. And it had only been 12 hours, most of which had been spent attempting to sleep. He didn't want to think of how irritating this was going to be in the day time.
The woosh of the automatic door alerted him that somebody was entering the medbay. His dad was carrying a tray of food. He brought it over to John's bedside, then turned to Alan, "Good, you're awake! There's a tray for you too, and you're to eat all of it, orders of Virgil and Onaha." Alan groaned that, Virgil was far from happy with all the weight Alan had lost, and Onaha was his willing accomplice in the journey to helping feed Alan back up to a healthy size. They already had given him a late evening dinner (as the whole family had been so busy fighting the hood that they had skipped most of their meals that day), and a bedtime snack to boot. Virgil even tried to offer Alan a midnight snack, as he had been awake during one of John's neuro checks. His father smiled at his discomfort, but continued, "I thought you and I could have breakfast in my office, I thought we could use a bit of privacy; we're overdue for a talk."
Alan had known that was coming, the tension had hung heavy in the air the evening before, but his father insisted that after the day they'd all had it was best to try and get a little sleep. But he wasn't ready. His dad would ask him questions that he either didn't know or couldn't share the answers to. Or maybe he would just yell at him, maybe he would realize how disappointing Alan was afterall. Alan followed his father out of the room, his head hung low as though he was facing his own execution.
It was a bit of a walk from medbay to his father's office. Medbay was strategically placed in a central location between the Thunderbirds inside the spacious silos so that if there were an accident on a mission the injured party could receive medical attention as soon as possible. They passed a number of people on their way up from the silos-Brains and Fermat were on their way into the silos to work on some experiments, Scott was doing some work on Thunderbird One. Virgil's attention was torn between medbay and Thunderbird Two. Gordon was working on Four. Onaha had just placed the breakfast trays in Jeff's office. And everyone of them gave Alan what they thought were looks of comfort and encouragement, but instead felt like looks of pity. He felt like an animal in the zoo. He knew that even TinTin and Fermat had found out what happened (in a community as small as Tracy Island secrets were hard to keep). For Heaven's sake, couldn't anybody just sleep in around here? Jeff placed a fortifying hand on Alan's shoulder and continued to steer him toward the privacy of his office.
Alan didn't know if he was relieved or terrified to have finally arrived at the office. His father closed the door and motioned to him to have a seat over on the couch. Alan turned his back on the mural in his father's office, he hated that thing. It was a giant picture of his dad and brothers. Alan wasn't in it, and he hated the thought that he wasn't even good enough to be considered part of the family. He knew that was the type of catastrophic thinking that his counselor had mentioned to him, so instead of acknowledging it he steadfastly ignored the mural altogether. For a brief moment he and his father sat together in silence. Alan's silence was fueled by anxiety, but his father used the moment to search his face, almost like he was trying to look deep into his soul.
Jeff took in a long breath of air, "Al, how long has this been going on?"
Alan hated that for the millionth time this semester his eyes were filling with tears. He was always crying these days. He stared down at his feet. When DID this start? Did his father mean the cutting, or did he mean everything that led up to the cutting? Honestly he didn't know when it all started, or even how. He finally gave a slight shrug of his shoulders in defeat.
Jeff wasn't to be discouraged that easily, so he waited patiently and tried again. "Can you tell me why you've been hurting yourself?" His voice was as tender as Alan had ever heard it, and he knew that he was safe. His father wanted to help him, he had to remind himself. But it all felt like so much.
After some serious thought, Alan answered, "Dad, I don't even know how to talk about it." And though he was trying as hard as he could to keep those stupid tears at bay, his voice came out strangled and pitched with emotion.
Jeff took compassion on his plight, "I'm not going to force you to say anything you're not ready to, just tell me what you feel you are able to. You choose what direction this conversation goes, whether it's your feelings or if it's something that has happened, or anything you can think of. And if I need you to be more specific I will ask. Take your time, I just want to know how to help you."
There was still too much, Alan realized his dad was trying to give him some control, but he just didn't know how to get the words out. And with that, the tears couldn't be held back any longer. Still staring at his feet, his shoulders began to shake with the sobs. His dad moved closer to him on the couch and put an arm around his shoulders. It wasn't the same as the night before, then his father had allowed him to cry until all the tears were spent, but this time his father handed him a tissue and gently prompted him to continue. "Maybe we can start with what you're thinking of right now?"
Alan thought that was something he could handle, so he said "There is so much going on that I don't know where to start, there are all these words and feelings just boiling inside of me they all want to come out at once but I can't get any out at all. And I'm scared, but that sounds really stupid."
"That doesn't sound stupid to me; I'm scared too."
Alan was startled at that revelation. His dad was the bravest person he knew. But his dad didn't say anything more, and the words had sounded gentle yet so confident, and with that Alan knew it was okay to be scared right now. It was with that push that he was able to get a few more thoughts out. "Everything is just too much, and the only time I feel like I have control of my mind is when I cut myself." Alan closed his eyes and lightly held his breath, because he didn't know what his father would do with that bit of information.
But there was no judgment or disapproval in Jeff's response, "What does it feel like for you to be in control of your mind verses how does it feel when your mind is out of control?"
Alan didn't realize that he'd been waiting months for somebody to give him a chance to get this off his chest, and suddenly he felt like a lid had been opened on a jar that was bursting with fullness. The thoughts trickled out slowly at first, but gained momentum, "I don't know how to make it stop spinning. I'm thinking all the time, and it's never happy thoughts. I don't feel happy. I don't feel safe. But I'm always feeling. I'm feeling so much at once that I can never make sense of it, but they're all bad feelings. I'm just drowning in water that's swirling around, and I can't keep my head up, and I'm all alone, and I can't make it stop…. Unless I cut myself."
Jeff let a pause fall between them in case Alan had more to say, but when no more words came he braced himself to ask a big question. He needed to look Alan in the eye for this one, so he reached over and gently nudged the boy's chin up. When he was sure he had his attention he asked, "I know that you know how dangerous cutting can be. I need to know right now, have you ever felt like taking your own life?"
Immediately Alan dropped his head again, his shoulders hunched in, the sobs returning full force. There were no words, Jeff had his answer, nevertheless. But Jeff needed to persist, "Alan, I am going to talk to some psychologists today, and they are going to need to know if you've ever attempted suicide or made a plan for it."
A shake of Alan's head caused Jeff to release a breath he didn't know he had been holding.
"Okay, that's good. That's really good." Alan made no response, other than to continue staring at the ground. Jeff reached over and pulled him close to himself, landing a gentle kiss on his hair. "We're going to get through this. We're going to help you feel better. You'll feel happy and safe again."
It felt like the conversation was winding down, but there was something else on Jeff's mind. He wouldn't even begin to entertain the thought of sending Alan back to school until the matter was resolved of who had been hurting him. Jeff hated to ruin the healthy flow that their conversation had taken, but he needed to know. "Son, I need to know who has been hurting you."
Alan tensed, and for the first time in the conversation he willingly looked directly into his father's eyes. "I can't tell you, you aren't even supposed to know it happened at all."
Unlike the night before, his father wasn't about to let the silence control the conversation. "Is this person the reason you've been depressed?"
Alan knew that he had started cutting after Dr. Smith had started hurting him, but he didn't think that was the cause of his depression. Of course, it could have been a big part of everything. In the end Alan couldn't make up his mind, "I just…I don't know, I don't think so…." He was feeling panicky again, and Jeff wanted to steer his mind away from the anxiety so they could keep control over the conversation.
"I understand, there doesn't have to be a trigger at all, sometimes depression and anxiety just happen with no reason at all. But it sounds like maybe this person has contributed to how you're feeling?"
Well that was easy, Alan confirmed with a nod of his head.
"You don't need to tell me who it is right now, but I can't send you back to school with this person still hurting you. Tell me this, why do you feel as though you can't tell me, has this person threatened you?"
His father really was too smart for his own good. Alan slouched, propping his elbows on his knees and his head on his elbows. He felt sick, his head was spinning and he wanted to throw up. "Dad…I can't…."
But Jeff would not let up. "I need to know what we're working against. They can't hurt you on this island."
Alan knew that was true. Dr. Smith couldn't reach any of them on the island. He had plenty of pictures of the family, but they were all taken on the mainland. Sure, The Hood had infiltrated their island only the day before, but to say that was an unusual case would be the understatement of the millennium. The Hood had used a unique and top of the line technology never before seen. There was no way Dr. Smith or his associates had access to that kind of technology, and there was no way he'd be able to infiltrate the island even if he did. Even now Brains was working on isolating all the ways that The Hood was able to take over the island, and creating security responses for each item. He mulled this over for a while. If it was his own safety he would have given up the information long ago, but this was his family. He didn't know what he would do if any of them were hurt…or worse…. But the island was safe. As long as his dad and brothers stayed here, nobody could get to Dr. Smith. Alan braced himself, he couldn't let this psychopath continue to threaten his family.
"Dad, you know how I am failing physics?" Alan's voice was timid and shaky, the last thing he wanted to do was remind his father of even more of his shortcomings.
Jeff's eyes hardened as they locked into Alan's, a cautious nod of the head was his only response.
"I don't know what I did. I don't know why he hates me so much. But it started on the first day. He just glared at me, and then it got worse. I don't know why. I know I turned in all of my assignments, and they were GOOD, Dad! It was going to be my favorite subject, and I tried so hard to make you proud, but every time I turned something in it just disappeared. I didn't understand it at first, but he told me that he didn't feel like grading my filth and that I'm nothing more than an entitled brat. And then he told me that if I told anybody it would be my word against his, and you are already so disappointed in my schoolwork that I thought you would take his side." Alan stopped there. There was so much more, but that part was too hard.
Jeff assumed by this point in the conversation that the physics teacher must be behind the attacks on his son, because what Alan had described was incredibly inappropriate behavior for a teacher, and hate to think that there was more than one person mistreating his child. But Alan didn't continue, and the amount of abuse Alan had undergone was a far cry from what he'd talked about so far. Plus, Alan had steadfastly avoided the subject the night before and he could be attempting to do the same this morning. Truthfully, Jeff had hoped it was a student, that felt so much easier to deal with than an abusive teacher. He needed Alan to continue. "Alan, a teacher refusing to grade your work and talking to you like that is grounds for dismissal. I do believe you, not just because of the bruises, but because I have been wondering why you were struggling so much in that class, and because I know you and I know you would never make something like that up. I wish you would have talked to me about this before, but what I especially need from you right now is to talk to me now and tell me what he has done to you. This is the only way we can get him the full extent of the punishment that he deserves. What you've told me so far is only enough to get him dismissed from the school." Of course, Virgil had documented the bruises in the medical exam with extensive notes and photos, but Alan would still need to be forthcoming with what happened.
Alan was quiet for a long while. He started to talk but abandoned the effort a number of times, every time with an audible intake of breath that stopped short with a disgruntled exhale. Jeff didn't dare interrupt him, because he could tell from the false starts that Alan was working up to something big.
Finally, Alan let the rest of the story out. "He started making me stay after class. He'd mock me, call me spoiled or selfish or entitled. He always said that Tracy's always got everything they wanted and never had to work for it." That comment seemed strange to Jeff, but they were one of the most famous families in the world, a lot of people formed unwarranted opinions of them. Alan continued, "Before Christmas break he held me after again and when I thought he was done talking I tried to leave but he grabbed me by the shoulders and pinned me against the wall. And it got worse when I got back to school. He started shoving me around, holding me against the wall with his arm across my neck…." Alan stopped, too choked on words to continue just yet, but Jeff knew he had more to say.
The tears were falling yet again, but Alan knew it was now or never. He had to keep talking. "He knows things. About our family. He has a gun, he showed me. But it's worse than that. Scott came out to visit me, the next day Dr. Smith had a picture of Scotty and his girlfriend, he said he'd kill our whole family if I ever said anything. He said he'd worked too hard all his life for me to come along and get him fired just because I wasn't used to getting my way. He knew where Scott was, he had him followed. He said that if he ever went to prison he'd have his associates kill you all. It was the same thing after Virge visited. He had a picture, he drew a target on Virgil's head." The words were broken, coming between heaving sobs. "I had to do everything he wanted, because he'd hurt you. I didn't care that he had a gun, sometimes I WANTED him to just use it on me, but he wouldn't, he threatened you with it instead. He started punching me, tossing me around…he…and then he…Dad, he…."
The last part just wasn't making it out of his mouth, but he had Jeff's unwavering and undivided attention.
"He…touched me. He said he did it because I couldn't do anything about it. He held his gun to my neck while he just touched me wherever he wanted to. I wasn't supposed to tell. Dad, he's going to kill you. I can't let him kill you, I don't know what to do. Please, Dad, help me!" The words were nearly unrecognizable at the end, as broken as they were by the sobs.
And so Jeff held him again. Just held him tight and slowly rocked him back and forth.
After their conversation Alan had fallen asleep on Jeff's shoulder. From the bags under his eyes and his greyish, sickly pallor, Jeff assumed (correctly) that Alan hadn't been sleeping. Their breakfast sat uneaten on the coffee table in the office. Who could possibly have an appetite after a discussion like that? Jeff lay Alan down on the couch and covered him with a light throw blanket. Jeff was shaking with fury, and it wouldn't do to wake his son in his rage.
The first order of business would be to inform his sons of who Alan's attacker was. He trusted his sons to go about digging up every bit of dirt there was on this Dr. Smith. It was a common name, but they had plenty to go off of. As furious as he was, Jeff needed to leave this part in his sons' more than capable hands for now. He needed to deal with Alan's depression and cutting, he had a number of phone calls to doctors to make. Besides, his sons were known for being overprotective of each other. He had no doubt that Scott, especially, wouldn't rest until this latest threat to their family, especially to their baby, was served his due justice.
They held their meeting down in the medbay. Jeff's kept his comms system open in his office so that they had video feed of Alan. Jeff filled them in on the parts of the conversation that they would need to know, keeping as much of the conversation as possible confidential. As expected, all four of the brothers were positively irate.
They had a lot of work ahead of them. Brains and Fermat were hard at work improving the island's security systems and finding a failsafe against being tracked by the gallium compound that The Hood had used to hunt them down. Each of the boys (minus John) had already been hard at work all morning (and even late into the previous night) fixing up their birds so that they'd be ready in the event of a mission. Thunderbird Five was another story, that was going to take months to repair, so for now they had to reroute all calls to the island. John had been medically cleared that morning to do exactly that. Kyrano, Onaha, and TinTin were already cleaning and repairing the house as much as they could. But when Jeff told them about Dr. Smith, all of the island's occupants agreed that putting him away would be their first priority.
Jeff called Lady P to fill her in and enlist her assistance. Then he settled himself back into his office to begin making phone calls to psychologists. Alan was sleeping not far from his desk, so Jeff was careful to keep his voice down. But Alan didn't so much as stir; he was sleeping like a rock. Jeff first contacted each of the people in the team of doctors (a psychologist, a psychiatrist, and a pediatrician) that he had rounded up for Alan before spring break. They were considered to be some of the best in their respective fields. Both the psychologist and the psychiatrist recommended a hospital stay. In situations of self-harm when suicidal intent has been expressed, this was standard protocol. As much as Jeff was willing to do absolutely anything to help his son, something about a hospital stay didn't sit well with him. Alan already felt like he was being sent away to school, Jeff didn't want to send him away again. Plus, he didn't think that would be the best fit or help toward Alan. He actually worried that it would cause more pain in the long run. He would do it if push came to shove, but something about it didn't sit right with him.
The psychiatrist had another idea. There was a well respected outpatient program for teens that was known to work wonders in cases like Alan's. The program ran from 8:00-3:00 every week day. It included group therapy, individual therapy, family therapy, daily consultation with a psychiatrist, various activities like music, art, and exercise therapy, and observation while patients adjusted to any potential medications. On top of that, since it was a teen program, they worked with the kids' schools to keep them on top of their studies and excuse any prolonged absences that would occur. The typical length of the program was one to two months. It was located in New York City, not too far from Tracy Tower. Jeff could work from there, put in a few months of consistent face time at Tracy Enterprises, and spend evenings and weekends with Alan. And most important, Alan would get the appropriate psychological and medical help that he needed without having to be hospitalized as an inpatient.
Jeff had to talk to Alan. It was already Sunday, and if they got to New York that evening they could enroll him on Monday and have him start on Tuesday. But he wasn't going to do anything without talking through it with his sons, especially Alan. Jeff looked at his watch, it was going on noon. Man, it felt like this weekend had been decades long already. He carefully woke Alan and explained the situation.
Alan didn't much like his options. He certainly didn't want to be stuck in an overnight hospital situation for weeks. He was glad that his father wasn't seriously considering that. He was nervous about the outpatient idea too. But he weighed the pros and cons. If he went through with that he wouldn't be constantly watched over as his family was doing with him now. He would still get his school work taken care of and he would get to see his family during the process to work things out with them (that thought made him both comforted and nervous at the same time). He supposed he could give this a try. His father had said that if it wasn't working out they could stop the program at any time and try something else.
At Alan's tentative approval, Jeff called the boys together. It was lunchtime and they all opted to take that meal in Jeff's office as well. This time they ate their meal with more gusto, the constant skipped meals and the overload of emotion that the weekend had thrown at them saw them all polishing off their plates. While they ate Jeff explained the outpatient program to all of them. They agreed that it was the best possible option. Jeff would be taking a break from command and control of the Thunderbirds for a time, they would ask Brains to step in for him. John would remain earthside for as long as it took for Alan to complete the program (something he was planning to do until Thunderbird Five was repaired anyhow). The boys would take trips out to New York, they each held executive positions within Tracy Enterprises and were out there on business regularly anyhow, but now they would work in a few more trips to support Alan and their dad and to make it to family therapy.
They spent the rest of the afternoon tying up loose ends on the island. They informed the Hackenbackers and the Belegants of their plans, and got the International Rescue call center set up to be operated remotely from Earth; it wasn't as efficient as the space station, but they would make do with it for a few months.
Alan spent his time packing and gathering up his homework and getting it as close to finished as possible. His father had told him it would be extra work trying to finish his schoolwork on top of the day program, and Alan wanted to be as caught up as possible. Packing wasn't too bad, as he hadn't really had a chance to unpack from school yet. His spring break homework took a few hours, though.
The whole household took dinner together. It was a little uncomfortable, because Alan didn't know how much everybody knew of his situation. He felt a bit self-conscious, all of a sudden, that they were all going through so much trouble for him. Onaha had even made his favorite dish, beef rendang, which was a dish he grew up with thanks to the Belegant's Malaysian roots. But dinner passed comfortably, nobody said anything to him about the treatment, or about what he had done to himself. Nobody brought up Dr. Smith. Nobody brought up The Hood, or John's near death experience, nobody brought up the fact that it was a miracle they were all together that night. They all just basked in each other's presence and enjoyed the meal together. It was even welcome when Gordon teased him a bit about girls he might like. He blushed furiously, but it was such a taste of normality that he couldn't bring himself to be annoyed.
After dinner Onaha gave him a tight hug and a kiss on the head. She told him to get better so that she could teach him how to make rendang for himself. Then the three kids ran off to the beach while the elder Tracys packed their bags for their trip to New York.
By 8:30 they were all packed and ready to go. Jeff called Alan back to the house by using the comm system on their watches. Fermat rushed back to the house to ask John something regarding Thunderbird Five before he left for New York. Alan and TinTin walked at a purposeful, yet slower pace. They were nearly at the house when TinTin turned toward Alan and laid a bombshell on him. "Alan, you have to get better, you hear me? It isn't an option, you see, I like you…a lot….You just….You just have to get better and come back here, okay?" She nodded her head firmly, as if in affirmation of what she had just said, but also as a way of steeling her resolve, then she gave him a peck on the cheek and ran off. Alan stumbled dumbfounded the rest of the way to his father's office.
When he got there the family was just gathering, upon seeing him they took their places near the panels that would lead to the Thunderbird silos. Alan felt the familiar swoop of being carried through the portal containing his father's portrait as they made their way toward Tracy One. And with that, they were off on an adventure that Alan wasn't too sure he wanted to take, but that he knew he desperately needed.
But the worst part of all was that they were leaving the safety of Tracy Island, and his family knew all about Dr. Smith.