5

Thank you for all your lovely reviews so far, it's motivating me to crack on with the story so here is an earlier than planned update.

Jeff was still mid-flight; his mind still struggling to separate itself from twisted fantasy and reality, his mental health more than fragile. Back in the house it had become unbearable for him, the longer he was trapped in that room the more reminders of her invaded his mind. The more this happened the more his thoughts continued to fester like an open wound. He was losing the will to live and that's when he saw her. His saving grace. His Lucile resplendent in a summer gold light, sun kissed skin sparkling. She was beckoning him to come outside, to come away with her. leaning on the doorframe and smiling invitingly at him, laughing at his expression. Lord knows he wanted to get away. He grabbed a bag not really knowing what he was chucking in it and followed her through the door not even finding it strange that she simply moved through the door whilst he had to physically open it to leave.

He was in a trance as he followed her across the front of the house and to the hangar. She wanted him to fly, to join her she said. As he sat down, she disappeared but that was ok for she was just behind him in the co- pilot cockpit. He smiled as he taxied out of the hangar, they were going to spend some quality time together just like the old days when they use to go on adventures together. He didn't even notice five young lads chasing after the plane as he took off. All he had eyes for was Lucile. Their shouts muffled; seemingly far away.

He decided he would take them to the island where he had once been dropped on for a survival exercise. The one that he had told Lucy all about; how it was deserted and designed to test his resolve to see if he could survive trapped alone with no resources or communications as part of intensive training for a lunar mission. He spent over a month there living off coconuts and fish, building a make shift shelter and devising ways to call for help. By keeping himself occupied he had remained sane. He made it through, the thoughts of his wife and children keeping him strong. He had known he would be reunited; he just had to ensure his survival for that long. He'd always wanted to go back and show Lucy where he had lived for that short time so now, he was!

He tried to call out to her but she must have fallen asleep. He sighed ready to settle in for a long flight. Little did Jeff know that he had already flown over the island he was looking for some time ago, his sleep deprived mind addling his usually sharp senses and excellent navigation skills. He also failed to notice the tank was running on fumes. His body had been subjected to a lot of pressures over the last few weeks. He was dehydrated from a diet of alcohol, lethargic from the lack of hydration and sustenance. As well as way beyond the realms of sleep deprivation. It was all starting to take its toll. The man who couldn't sleep was slowly fading into darkness with sheer exhaustion, his body protesting at its abusive treatment of late. His hand slipped off of the controls more than once, his speech became incoherent and vague as his thoughts slowed. Eventually he succumbed to the blackness his body giving up on him, Lucy's voice in his ear encouraging him to rest. He fell into a pleasant deep sleep for the first time in weeks as the plane plummeted.

Emergency alarms blared, lights lit up across the dash but still the plane spiraled out of control, the turbulence shaking up a storm in the cockpit. Jeff Tracy didn't stir once, not even as the planes automatic emergency procedures ejected him from the cockpit. The white parachute unraveled before violently jerking open, Jeff still slumped in the pilot's chair. His hair whipping back with the force of the wind. He started to drift down instead of free falling. He was heading towards what appeared to be a small island, covered in a dense green jungle, the canopy so thick you couldn't see what was below, even from this vantage point. Jeff continued to descend at a steady rate, the air current naturally steering him to the left, he was almost at tree height now. The seat skimmed and bounced off the first few trees snagging branches and dragging leaves off limbs, then it dug in harder dragging deeper into the tree canopy. There was a cracking sound as a limb buckled under the weight, catapulting Jeff into the undergrowth below.

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Scott jumped out of his car just shy of ten PM. He was shattered, the game with his brothers this morning seemed like years ago. He stretched his cramped limbs. Rush hour city traffic and the flight back in a tight cockpit had not been kind to him. He stretched aiming for some relief, before traipsing towards the house. Pulling the tie out of his collar as he did so, the heat was still stifling. He'd had a lot of time to think on the way over and had come to one conclusion. It was his fault dad was missing. It had been stupid to leave him alone when Scott had seen first hand how fragile he had been mentally. The doctor warned them that dad was reeling from the trauma which was quite understandable and said he just needed time. Scott should have seen this coming, should have pestered for the doctor to review his dad's condition again.

Scott noticed the kitchen light was on in the early summer dusk. Someone was still up. He steeled himself for the difficult conversation that was coming. He just wanted some time alone to process all his emotions but he knew his brothers would be waiting. He swung the door open and dumped his bag on one of the kitchen chairs. The kitchen was empty so he grabbed a quick slug of his dad's bourbon (The only bottle Scott had successfully hidden) before heading into the lounge. In there he found Alan was sprawled across the sofa asleep. Gordon was sat in the corner with his headphones in on his tablet and Virgil was absently flicking through channels. Scott could see John through the lounge window outside with one of his telescopes charting the stars as he often did on a warm summer's eve.

Virgil sat up and offered Scott his seat which he took gratefully. Virgil was worried, his brother looked knackered. He had obviously pushed himself to get home. Quietly speaking so not to rouse Alan, Virgil asked if he was ok. "Yeah fine, just tough day you know?" Scott whispered. Virgil nodded. "Did you find out more about father?" Virgil asked. Gordon knocked an earbud out to listen. Scott sighed and looked at his brothers in turn. "It's not good news I'm afraid. Dad's plane was heading in a south westerly direction before the trace was lost just over the pacific ocean. I thought it could just be interference, its one of the reasons I didn't call at first but I monitored it all day and the signal never returned."

"So, he crashed?" Gordon looked stricken, the anger from earlier seemed to have abated.

Scott swallowed. "We just don't know. I contacted Captain Lee and explained the situation he promised me he would get some of his boys to look into it, they are out there now but haven't found any sign as of yet. I'm sorry it's not better news." He spread his hands wide. He stood up, he had to tell John too. "I suggest when your ready you head up to bed. In the morning we can come together and think about the next steps."

Both the boys nodded as Scott headed out to John. Gordon popped his headphones back in lost in thought, Virgil stood in the shadow of the lounge window watching his brothers outside. Dad was missing most likely dead, had they not suffered enough already? Virgil wasn't ready to be parentless he willed his father to be safe just lost, praying to the stars outside that he would come home. He was worried about the burden that had settled on his eldest brothers' shoulders. Virgil was going to have to step up and maybe between them somehow, they could manage the farm and business as well as get Alan, Gordon and John through this nightmare. Virgil watched as Scott had to break the bad news again, his tall steadfast frame ram rod straight. Scott had experience of delivering similar bad news to his comrades' mid mission but that didn't make it any easier. Virgil watched as John absorbed the information. Several emotions played across John's usually well controlled expression. First pleased at the sight of his brother, then concern which was then quickly replaced with a grim expression. He looked up heavenward and sighed, the pain clearly evident but still somehow holding it together. Scott was trying to comfort him but John held up a hand and uttered something. Virgil turned away deciding it was time to settle Alan for the night. He was comfortable where he was so Virgil draped the large blanket of their mothers over him and indicated to Gordon, they should turn in. Gordon nodded.

Some time later all the Tracy's were in bed well except Scott. He had come in checked on Alan before he grabbed some cold pasta Virgil had left him. He hadn't eaten since that one sandwich he had nabbed at lunch and despite everything he was pretty hungry. He then checked his phone for updates from Lee. Seeing there was nothing he headed upstairs. His old room was at the far end of the house past all the others including his parents. As he walked down, he trod the familiar path, instinctively side stepping the creaky floorboards so as not to wake his brothers. He paused at each door and strained his hearing but there was nothing so he guessed they must have gone to bed ok which was a relief. He just hoped they could sleep. Scott then passed his parents room, the door slightly ajar from his father's swift exit. He wasn't sure what possessed him but he found himself creeping into the room. He hadn't been in there since a child but it was familiar to him and very much unchanged. All the furniture was in the same place, the moonlight fell across the bed highlighting the messed sheets. Some one had been in to remove the bottles and cigars Scott had caught a glimpse of when checking on his dad throughout the last week. It must have been Virgil. The window had been opened too which Scott closed. He turned and sat down heavily on his mothers dressing table stool. Her hairbrush, jewellery box and a few cosmetics remained untouched. Scott could smell the faint sent of her perfume; the stale air having been purified. That's what undid him, that familiar scent. Always so reassuring and warm, his mother had been there always. His shoulders slumped forwards weary from the burden of becoming the Tracy patriarch in a matter of hours. Two generations of male Tracy's potentially wiped out leaving Scott to potentially inherit the farm, the business and all the responsibility that came with it. No parents to guide him or act as a soundboard for his decisions. Four brothers to support. Was his father dead? or just lost? He bit his lip as he pressed his palms into his eyes trying to stop the prickling sensation of tears as they began to well. He was disgusted to realise the hitching of breaths and the sobs that followed were stemming from him.

He sat there for some time trying to compose himself. He didn't want to leave; he could feel the presence of his mother in this room and it gave him a faint comfort as he thought about better times. He hoped she was proud of him. He had always tried to be the responsible one, knowing early on that his brothers all looked up to him and how his behaviour directly affected their own. He wondered where his dad was now; thoughts of a broken air craft on the ocean floor bed with his father still trapped in it plaguing his mind. He shook himself don't give up yet! He wouldn't give up on you. He would tell you to be strong, to not give up hope. Finally feeling his body begging for sleep he headed to his own room, not noticing the corner of the picture frame poking out from under the bed, his parents looking up at him.