Saving Alan Chapter 9

For once in his life, Scott would have preferred NOT to be in the pilot chair. He loved Tracy One, and he loved the feeling of her controls in his hands. But he wished he could have a moment alone with Alan. Time alone in a family of six was hard to come by. But Scott wouldn't have refused his father's request for him to take control of the flight to New York. In fact, it was an honor and it spoke to how much Jeff trusted Scott that he relinquished the pilot's seat to him for the flight. Jeff Tracy was a proud man who loved to fly. Generally, if Jeff was present in a particular rocket or jet, he was the one to pilot it. But then again, Jeff had trusted Scott enough as a pilot that he made him field commander of the Thunderbirds, and that was nothing to scoff at. Jeff himself was exhausted and overwhelmed with worry. He wanted to be available to his sons if they needed anything. That mostly meant Alan, but Scott had noticed that his father was being particularly protective of John since the missile strike the day before. Scott would leave his father to his fussing over them. But Scott did want to talk with Alan before heading back to Tracy Island.

Meanwhile, Virgil had a similar idea to Scott. He and Alan were sitting near the back of the jet and they had a couple hour flight ahead of them. To be honest, Virgil wasn't thrilled that John and Alan had been so active that day with their injuries. He would have rather they both stay calm and still in the medbay for a couple of days, but there was no denying that Alan needed this program. There were so many things that Virgil wanted to say to Alan. He had been so shocked and scared when he had seen the damage that Alan had done to himself. He had recognized the pattern and placement of the wounds instantly as self-harm; there was nothing else it could have been. Virgil had known that his brother had been down, he had pulled back from all of them and he looked ashen and overly thin. Still, he hadn't expected this. He had thought that perhaps his brother was in a slump and needed to talk with a counselor, then he'd be fine. Alan had always been such a happy and optimistic child. He was the one they turned to when they needed hope and encouragement. He had such a cheerful outlook on life, and he approached everything he did with passion and joy.

But the evidence had stared him in the face, no, it was more like a slap across the face. And his heart had lurched into his throat when he realized that somebody else was hurting him too. Virgil respected their dad's decision not to give them details of what he and Alan had talked about. It was private and Alan needed to know he could confide in his dad at that time. But Virgil also wanted Alan to know that he would be there for him too. He had told Alan so countless times that year, they all had. But it seemed he needed to hear it a few more times, or maybe Virgil needed to take this situation to prove to Alan that he'd be there. He made up his mind, he needed his brother to know he was there for him.

"Alan?" Virgil gently prodded him in the shoulder to get his attention. He didn't want to speak too loudly to draw the attention of the rest of the family.

Alan looked up at Virgil, seemingly startled out of a faraway thought.

"I'm sorry, Al. I'm sorry I wasn't there when you needed me. You were really hurting and I didn't help you. And then that psychopath…." Virgil's voice cracked and trailed off, but then he changed course, "I'm just so sorry."

Alan glanced down at his lap, embarrassed, but then he looked back at Virgil and his eyes sharpened in seriousness, "You were there. I knew you were; I just didn't know how to reach out to you."

Virgil reached across the aisle and squeezed Alan's arm in support and comfort. "If you ever need me again and you don't know how to reach out to me, just squeeze my arm, just like this. You won't even have to say any words, I'll just know that you need me."

They continued talking for the rest of the flight. They talked about serious things. They talked about inconsequential things. They talked about Alan's choir concert, and how proud Virgil was to have been there. But most importantly, they just talked. They had talked over the video phone a number of times that semester, but it had always been defined by Alan's pulling away. This time was different. Alan still wasn't that happy, carefree soul that he once was, but he wasn't hiding either.

It was late in the night when they arrived at Tracy Towers. Tracy Towers housed Tracy Enterprises, but on the top floor of one of the buildings there was also a private penthouse suite. The security there was so intense that it nearly matched Tracy Island. Alan breathed a sigh of relief when the whole family was safely inside. It didn't go unnoticed by Gordon.

The family may have been used to the ridiculously spacious accommodations of Tracy Island, but when they were in New York they had to buddy up. Jeff had his own master suite. Scott had his own bedroom (which Alan had invaded many times growing up when he was woken by a nightmare or a storm; he hated storms), but the other two bedrooms were shared by John and Virgil and Gordon and Alan, respectively. There had been times when Gordon chaffed at having to share a room with Alan, he was nearly 6 years younger. This was not one of those times. In fact, Gordon had never been more thankful for it. He wasn't really certain about any of the stuff that was happening with his younger brother. Yesterday Gordon's whole family nearly died and then they found out that Alan was basically already dying on the inside and being abused on top of all that. He had been exhausted going to bed the night before, but the horrors and revelations of the day had ensured that he didn't sleep a wink. Gordon wouldn't admit it aloud, but he was comforted by the fact that he had an excuse to be close to somebody else that night, especially Alan. It seemed Alan, however, was not as comforted as Gordon was.

Gordon climbed into bed and turned off the last remaining light which was on his bedside table. Alan's breathing was coming out in quick, ragged bursts. "Hey, man, you alright?"

Alan's response was not convincing. "Yeah," he said shortly.

Gordon allowed a chuckle, "You're not. You're scared. You didn't want us to leave the island because of that monster."

"You don't know what he's like," came Alan's meek response. Gordon's heart clenched, Alan sounded so much like he had as a kid during a storm.

"Listen, Al, Dad and Scott are decorated military heroes, the rest of us travel the world, and even outer space, staring death in the face on a daily basis. That piece of filth has threatened the wrong family. We're going to be okay, we always make it through. And besides, he has no way of knowing that we know your secret. If anybody needs to be worried, it's him. His days are numbered and he doesn't even know it. Do you really think our mother hen brothers are going to let him get away with what he's done to you? Do you think I will let him get away with it? For that matter, do you think that THE Jefferson Tracy will just sit back and let him continue to threaten his family? We're going to be safe, Alan. We won't be foolish, and we're trained for situations like this. What you need to worry about and focus on now is getting yourself better. I miss having somebody to beat at rock climbing races. I need you back to full health so I can annihilate you!"

Alan had to laugh at that. He was ten times faster at rock climbing than Gordon was, and they both knew it. Plus, he was grateful for Gordon's confidence and the way he was able to lighten the weight of any situation. "Dream on, Gordo."

Monday morning was a far more relaxed affair than the day before. Jeff and Scott were the early risers of the crew. They were up, showered, dressed, and ready to start their day by 6:00 every morning, no matter what. Normally Scott would have liked to begin his morning with a nice run, but as relaxed as they were, they still had to take Smith's threats seriously. John and Alan were usually up slightly later, by 7:00 or maybe even 8:00. Gordon was generally up with the smell of breakfast (on the island, that meant 8:30), and Virgil was the late riser of the family, liking to stay in bed until at least 10:00.

Alan woke at 7 to find that Scott was awake. Jeff had been awake also, but wanted to get an early start on the day. He had wanted to take advantage of being at Tracy Enterprises to settle a few items ahead of time so that he could take the next few days completely off to help transition Alan into the program. John was probably going to take advantage of the day to sleep in a bit, he was still recovering from a decent concussion, after all. Alan, however, couldn't sleep any longer. He'd awoken to an anxiety attack, and then found that he couldn't fall back asleep.

He shuffled a bit grudgingly into the living room. He wasn't groggy, but he was still exhausted. He was always exhausted these days. Scott greeted him with a warm smile.

"Hey, Sprout, what would you like for breakfast?"

Alan held back a groan, his whole family had taken to trying to feed him all the time. He knew he had lost some weight, but this was getting to be a bit much. "I'm really not hungry."

"How about something light, like some toast and an orange?"

Alan wasn't going to win against Mother Hen #1. "Okay." He started to get up to go grab it, but Scott stopped him.

"It's okay, you just relax for a bit. You're supposed to take it easy on those ribs anyhow." Scott wandered over to the kitchen, which overlooked the living room. There wouldn't be a better time for a talk than right now, this was probably the only alone time they'd be getting for the rest of the day. Scott decided to start with something innocuous (well, it ought to be innocuous, but Alan looked like he had barely slept…again), "How did you sleep?"

Alan looked over at him, sizing him up. He was wondering if it was just a polite question, or if Scott was probing. He couldn't really tell. "Okay, I guess. You?"

"Not so great, actually. I was stuck thinking about the Hood and some other things."

Alan was learning a lot about his family. He had always seen them as sort of invincible heroes. He didn't expect them to have fears and weaknesses, but this weekend had seemed to shake all of them in one way or another. It helped more than he could say to have this new understanding of them. It also encouraged him to open up, "Yeah, I had trouble too."

Alan had always been able to talk to Scott. Scott had been like a second father to him growing up. He didn't know why he'd felt such a distance between them lately, though he knew it was his fault more than Scott's. But Scott had a way about him that somehow always got Alan talking. Before he knew it, he had told Scott all about the anxiety attack from that morning. He really didn't know what had caused it, it was just a myriad of things. Scott listened. He didn't have any groundbreaking advice, but Alan felt heard. He didn't feel stupid admitting yet another weakness, as he had thought he would.

Alan felt better by the time his other brothers began to make their way to the kitchen. Jeff returned to the penthouse by 10:00 and decided to make the phone call right away to the hospital that ran the outpatient program. It turned out they had plenty of room to take Alan in, they just wanted to do an intake interview with Jeff and Alan that afternoon.

In the meantime, the family decided that they deserved to have a movie day. They went for The Avengers for something light. Alan delighted in watching Gordon, Virgil, and Scott roll around and attack each other with pillows. He and John both got a few hits in too, and because they were injured, Virgil wouldn't let Scott or Gordon hit them back. It felt so normal. The brothers reveled in seeing their brother acting more like himself, though they were disheartened that his smile never fully reached his eyes.

After some time Jeff and Alan had to go to their appointment. Everybody wished them well, but Alan felt a rock in the pit of his stomach.

The interview room was a cold and unwelcoming place. It certainly didn't sell the program to either Jeff or Alan, but the nurse explained that the room was also used as an intake assessment room for inpatients in the both the adult and adolescent psychiatric wards, so it needed to be free of anything that a patient could use to harm themselves or others.

The nurse began by taking Alan's vitals. He felt embarrassed once again to have to reveal his scars as she took his blood pressure and drew some blood to send off to be tested. The nurse made a note on a piece of paper where Alan's cuts and bruises were located (for future reference in case Alan should develop more injuries over the course of his treatment). But she didn't tsk or look at him with pity, she was matter of fact and got straight to the point. Then she pulled out a questionnaire and began the actual interview. At first he was nervous, but as she continued along the list of questions, something clicked inside his mind; he REALLY wasn't a freak, he wasn't alone in all this. She asked questions like, "Have you ever thought about hurting other people?" and "Do you ever hear voices inside your head?" And he realized that there were all sorts of problems that people had, and it was okay that he needed help. It didn't take his problems away, but it made him a little less resistant to the idea of the program.

By the time they were done with the interview it was after 3:00 and the day program had been dismissed. That gave them the freedom to have a tour of the facilities without disturbing the doctors and patients. The rest of the facility stood in stark contrast to the intake room. The walls were colored in calming blues and greens. There was an art room, a large conference room, a game room, a room with various large motor and exercise equipment, there was a quiet room where patients could sit if things got too overwhelming, there was a lunchroom, and there were various offices where patients and families would meet with doctors in a more private setting. Jeff had a chance to talk to a few of the doctors, counselors, and nurses, and felt secure in sending his son to the facility every day.

The last thing that they did was meet with the psychiatrist who would be taking Alan's case, Dr. Ohigashi. First Jeff and Alan talked with him together, then Alan spoke with him alone for a bit. The doctor wanted to begin Alan on a medication that would help with depression and anxiety in teenagers. Jeff appreciated that this doctor was something of a minimalist when it came to medications; he believed that depression and anxiety was best treated with talk therapy, but that sometimes it needed to be augmented with medication. In Alan's case he thought that medication would be prudent, but he encouraged Jeff to speak with the psychiatrist he had originally found and had been planning on taking Alan to. After all, Dr. Ohigashi would only be Alan's doctor for the length of time that he was in the program, which, with luck, would only be one to two months. After that Alan would need to find a different doctor to provide ongoing care. If Alan already had a doctor that Dr. Ohigashi could consult with right now, then all the better. Jeff agreed to let Dr. Ohigashi call their original choice of psychiatrist, Dr. Rayin, as this was an important decision because most psychiatric medications came with the potential side effect of increasing the risk of suicide in teens. In the end, both doctors agreed, and Jeff did too, that this particular medication would be in Alan's best interest.

Alan was tired, anxious, overwhelmed, and more than ready to go home by the time they finished. Plus, he hated that his father was outside the safety of Tracy Towers. When Jeff offered to go get takeout for dinner, the vein in Alan's neck nearly popped. Jeff took in the expression on his face and immediately opted to make something at home instead.

The intensity of the day had caused stress that Alan didn't really know how to deal with. He felt vulnerable at having to talk about himself and his feelings so much. He felt defective at having to take psychiatric medications. He felt paranoid that the longer they were out of the house, the longer his dad was exposed to Dr. Smith and his assistants. The stress built up inside of him and there was no way for him to relieve it. Before he would have cut himself, but he had no access to anything sharp. For that matter, he had no access to privacy.

The elder Tracys noticed the change in his disposition right away. He had become short-tempered and grouchy. They were still checking in on him on an hourly basis, which he was rather resentful of at that particular moment. It was John who went to check in on him, when he walked in to see Alan tugging at his hair and breathing raggedly. John was the most intuitive Tracy, he just knew about emotions. He knew Alan was in no mood to talk or get fussed over. He grabbed Alan by the wrist and pulled him out the door of his bedroom. Alan was confused by the sudden and seemingly random action and followed dumbly behind. John led him straight to the workout room. It was a little challenging, as both of them were injured, but they managed to work up a light sweat on the treadmills.

After some time and a little physical exertion John chanced it, "Sometimes when I'm frustrated, I need to run to blow off some steam."

Alan thought about the release he always got when he ran track or played soccer. "Me too."

They didn't need to have a deep emotional talk. Alan felt as though he'd been having too many of those lately, and John sensed that. Instead, they just moved their bodies and talked about the lighter things in life. It was one of the many things that Alan appreciated about his second-oldest brother, that he just understood what Alan needed and gave him the space to obtain it.

He would miss all of his brothers when they went back to Tracy Island the next day, but he wondered if he might miss John the most. Either way, at least he knew they would all be safe there. The night soon came to an end, and Alan slipped gratefully into bed. Tomorrow would be a long day.