Saving Alan Chapter 17

So sorry this took so long to update! There isn't an excuse, but I sometimes go through waves of poor mental health where doing anything seems like an impossible mountain to climb.

Without further ado, here is the next chapter!

It had been about ten days since Alan was rescued from Dr. Smith. His body had healed remarkably well. His mind was making some progress too, though, as with any mental illness, that progress was much slower. It had helped that every time he woke up a member of the family was nearby. Since talking to them about his biggest fear (that they wished he had died in his mother's place), he had been much more able to talk to them about other things that scared, hurt, or bothered him. It was like the seal had been broken. They talked at length about how Alan felt inadequate in comparison to them, about how he had burned himself out by trying to be as good as them, about how he felt left out of the family while he was away at school, and how terrified he was watching his family go out on dangerous missions when he didn't know if they'd make it back safely or not. He talked about all the things that Dr. Smith had done and said to him. He talked about the rage that built up inside of his mind, sometimes with no prompting at all, that made him want to or need to hurt himself. There was little else to do when stuck in a hospital for days on end, especially when his family witnessed his vulnerability after every nightmare. The more he talked, the more his family talked. He realized that they had similar fears going out on missions, that they missed him dreadfully while he was at school, but wanted him to have a chance at a normal life, that they loved him dearly and thought he was every bit as accomplished and capable as any of them had ever been. He learned that they each went through trying times as teenagers and had their share of giving their father grey hairs. He even learned that Jeff had his own rebellious phase as a teenager, and had witnessed his father blush ferociously when Grandma Tracy came to visit and spilled the beans about how she busted Jeff at the tattoo parlor when he was 16, getting a tattoo on his butt.

For the first time in a year, he felt as though he truly was a critical part of the Tracy family. No matter if he messed up here and there, or if he was away at school for 9 months of the year, he was one of them and he mattered immensely. He knew that he wasn't miraculously cured from his depression. Every time he talked about these deeply personal things he felt vulnerable and often times he wanted to react by harming himself. There wasn't much he could do to himself while being closely watched in a hospital, and his family was always there to talk him down. But he knew he wasn't in a healthy mental space yet. While in the hospital he was away from the triggers and stressors of day to day life, and his family was there to talk through everything. Even so, he still felt deeply depressed and angry at himself sometimes. He knew that if he were out in the real world, so to speak, he would have fallen into the trap of self-harm more than once.

It was with all this in mind that he pondered over the conversation he had with his father regarding whether or not he should return to the day program. Jeff had approached him that morning with the news that he was to be discharged from the hospital that evening and they needed to think about where Alan should go next.

Jeff laid out the options that Alan had and was honest about his feelings on each one, but ultimately wanted Alan to have a vote in what happened next. The first option was to return to the day program. It had been a month and ten days since Alan had begun the day program and taking medication. The last ten days had been spent without the program, though a counselor had been called in a couple of times and Alan continued with his medications. Jeff thought that the program could still help them, especially since Alan seemed to have a bit of PTSD from Dr. Smith. But Jeff also seemed to have a bit of PTSD and was anxious about sending Alan away each day.

The second option was to have Alan stay on Tracy Island and begin homeschooling. Jeff felt safest with this option. The past six weeks had seen his family under attack and stress, and Jeff just wanted everybody safe and together.

The third option was for Alan to return to Wharton's. Alan still had to finish the remainder of the semester in some capacity. So far he had been turning in all of his assignments virtually, with Jeff making a couple visits to the campus to meet with professors and turn in any assignments that couldn't be completed virtually. Jeff thought that Alan could continue to make friends there and grow in the things that interested him, become his own person. Jeff didn't want to say anything that would steer Alan away from this option, but he really didn't feel comfortable with having Alan away any longer. Alan had come into his own already and had a chance at making friends, but the tragedy and terror of what had happened while his boy had been away at school would forever haunt him. He genuinely hoped Alan would not choose this option.

While Alan had been against this at first, he had really begun to feel safer with counseling and family therapy. But he wanted to go home. Desperately. As much as his father and brothers had reassured him over the past several weeks, he just wanted to be present among them so that he could feel like he was a part of them and so that he didn't have to worry as much when they were out on missions, because he could be right there in his father's office hearing what was happening. It wasn't a difficult decision for him; he knew he could never step foot back at Wharton's-the trauma from Dr. Smith alone was enough to fuel his nightmares for years to come, but he hadn't made as many friends there as his father had hoped, and Fermat had been outright bullied. That school had never allowed him to feel safe. And though he still struggled with his mental health, he just wanted to go home. He immediately decided on going back to the island and finishing up his education through homeschool. The moment of truth came when he admitted to his father that he often still struggled with feeling extremely depressed or with thoughts of self-harm, and even being a little frightened of what he could do to himself.

That gave Jeff pause. As much as he wanted his son to come back home, he feared Alan hurting himself. Jeff had to ask Alan if he felt like they would be able to make the island safe enough for him. Alan didn't want to be babied or watched all the time, but he thought that if they took precautions like hiding the knifes or dangerous objects for a while, then he would be better off. Jeff agreed and asked Alan if he would also be okay with continuing individual counseling and family therapy once a week. They could do so virtually so that they could stay on the island. That was something that Alan readily agreed to. He had taken away a number of ideas that could help him calm down in a moment of anger of panic, and had some valuable tools to help him communicate his needs to himself and to his family, but he knew that he was still benefiting from therapy.

With that decided, Jeff made plans for their return home. After Alan's discharge that evening they would fly to New York for the night to gather all of the clothes and belongings that they had left there during their month stay, then they would fly out the following day. Jeff couldn't wait for his whole family to be home safe and sound.

Scott came to the hospital to sit with Alan during his final hours in the hospital. Jeff busied himself with researching counselors who could meet Alan's needs and by signing discharge papers. Scott rejoiced with Alan in the decision to come back to the island. In fact, Scott was relieved. All of the brothers had been hoping that Alan would take that option. Though Alan was only 14 they had a plan to ask their father to start Alan on his Thunderbird training. They wouldn't mention it to Alan just yet, in case it wasn't going to happen, but Scott figured if he put the bug in his dad's ear and the other guys followed suit, it just might jump start Alan's training. Everybody else had waited until their eighteenth birthdays, as they had been at boarding school themselves. But if Alan was going to be on the island, he would have ample time to start. Besides, he clearly already knew how to fly at least three of the five ships, he had demonstrated as much during the Hood's attack. How that had come to pass, none of them knew. It was Alan's little secret, and Scott was chomping at the bit to figure out how he'd done it!

Alan was discharged around 4:30. Jeff, Scott, and Alan took a cab directly from the hospital to the small airport where the other guys were waiting at Tracy One. Alan was thrilled to find that they had ordered pizza for the flight, as ten days of hospital food is not exactly a teenage boy's dream come true. Jeff listened contentedly from his seat at the flight deck as his boys laughed and talked and goofed around.

When they got to Tracy Towers late that night, Jeff thought that they would all be exhausted and ready for bed. His goal was to get everything packed up as much as possible that night so that they could head home right after breakfast the next morning. But it seemed his sons had other plans. How could he forget that they were young and had endless amounts of energy? They bounded into the apartment ready for a night of cards and junk food. Jeff tried to convince Alan to get his room packed up, but the sounds of chatter and laughing convinced him that his efforts were fruitless. He was surprised, then, when he came out from packing his own gear to find that all five of his sons were splayed across Alan and Gordon's room, bags clearly packed and waiting by the door. They were laying around playing poker. Apparently they had all pitched in to help Alan pack up and were far from ready to part ways for the night. Alan, though, was still recovering and looked ready to fall asleep on the floor where he was sprawled out. Jeff nudged him toward his bed, signaling that he'd take over his hand.

Alan's head had barely hit his pillow when he fell asleep, smiling as he was surrounded by his family.