Virgil stood on shaky legs as he looked down on Alan. The kid was finally given a sedative and he'd slipped into a semi-conscious state. He still turned his head this way and that, but not nearly as violently as it had been, but his ramblings had continued but at a quieter magnitude as opposed to his shouting earlier. The door opened and Jeff was granted entrance. Virgil turned and instantly recognized his father's strong presence. Opening his arms, Virgil practically fell into his dad's strong arms.

"Dad, I couldn't get him to stop." Virgil's voice cracked as he picked up a small clump of Alan's hair which the kid had really ripped out of his head. He as an older brother had been terrified when he'd been awoken by Dr. Warner shaking him and trying to get him up and out of bed. When he'd entered the room at Dr. Warner's insistence, Virgil was mollified to see a nurse pressing a towel to Alan's temple where he'd begun bleeding from having ripped his own hair from his head.

Restraints had already been fastened to Alan's wrists and around his ankles – pinning him to the bed. The moment Virgil came into view though, Alan's fight picked up in intensity and if it hadn't been for the restraints, Virgil was sure Alan might have actually strangled him. He'd been growling like a wild animal and clenching his teeth together as he fought the restraints.

"I know son, let me see if I can get him to calm down." Jeff reached up with a gloved finger and rubbed beneath Virgil's eyes, wiping the tears away from his worried middle child. Moving over to stand beside Alan's bed, Jeff leaned down to speak to his boy. "Allie, it's dad…what's going on baby?"

"He, he's, he's, he's, he's…" Alan couldn't slow down his words and Jeff defaulted back to when Alan was a small child and couldn't finish sentences for talking faster than his brain could process the words.

"Alan, slow down. Tell me what he's doing?" Jeff remained standing above Alan.

"He's, He's gonna, daddy, he's hurting me. Please make him stop. I didn't mean anything by it. My team and me – we, we, we, we, we won fair and…fair and square. Why is he gonna hurt me daddy, why?" Alan spoke at a frenzied pace, finally breaking out of his eerie chanting from earlier.

"Who's gonna hurt you Allie? You can tell me son." Jeff leaned closer, but turned his head when Alan pointed at Virgil.

"Robert, Robert, Robert, Robert – dad, careful…he's got a, a, a, a knife. Please dad. You've got to stop him dad. He's gonna hurt me." Jeff's face paled at hearing Alan's rambling before glancing over his shoulder to look at Virgil. Both of them were shocked, but for Alan to think Virgil was Robert, Virgil wasn't lying when he said he'd believed Alan had a psychotic break.

"A lighter, a lighter, a lighter…dad he's got a lighter. He's gonna hurt me again. Please don't let him." Alan rambled – totally unaware of the distress he was causing his dad and brother.

"Alan, hey…hey bud. Calm down okay? It's just dad. Robert's not gonna hurt you anymore – he's in jail. This is Virgil, you like Virgil – he's your brother…remember? Ssh, calm down son." Jeff managed to smooth Alan's bangs back from his face. Alan's eyes were wild and his pupils had almost completely swallowed the blue of his eyes.

Alan's breathing slowed considerably from his hyperventilating and he closed his eyes as the adrenaline began to wear off.

"Dad…stay?" Alan seemed to return to himself and he gripped his father's hands tightly – not wanting to allow his father to leave him for fear of Robert coming back to get him. Glancing over his shoulder, Jeff saw Drs. Warner and Andreessen in the doorway and they both nodded before Jeff set up shop on Alan's bed. Crossing his legs at the ankles, Jeff allowed Alan to snuggle into his grasp, feeling better for having made the flight out there. Virgil sat in his wheelchair for a few minutes before turning to wheel back to his room.

"I guess I'll see you later dad." Hanging his head, Virgil began to wheel away when Jeff stopped him.

"Virgil, I don't think having another person in here is going to make much difference. Stay here." Jeff held a hand out beckon Virgil to return. "That is okay, right doctor?"

Dr. Warner who stood just out in the hall spoke through the intercom.

"That'll be fine Jeff. You and Virgil were both properly sterilized before entry so there shouldn't be any problems. However, if either of you should begin feeling under the weather…you must take precautions and leave so as to not infect Alan." Dr. Warner advised. "Virgil, I'll send for a bed to be brought in for you."

"Thank you very much doctor." Virgil turned back towards Alan and his dad before wheeling closer to his brother's bed. Alan was lying in their father's arms, blinking intermittently as if he was half there…half not – which while not preferred was likely happening. Virgil felt himself seemingly grow smaller. "I wish I knew what it was that brought this on."

Jeff leaned against the headboard, cradling Alan closely in his arms. Scratching the back of his head; Jeff ran his fingers through Alan's hair, keenly avoiding the partial bald spot where Alan had obviously ripped hair from his head.

"I don't think we'll know what caused this until Alan either tells us or we bring in a professional." Jeff didn't stop his ministrations as ALan snuggled into his chest. "What did the doctor say when he retrieved you Virgil?"

Virgil leaned forward in his chair, resting his elbows on the arms of the chair Virgil allowed his head to hang in dejection. Shaking his head, Virgil began to speak.

"Dr. Warner woke me up, told me that he couldn't get Alan to calm down, asked if there was anything I could think of to calm him down before he hurt himself and I persuaded him to let me see Alan. I thought that if he saw a familiar face that maybe he'd calm down, but then as soon as I entered the room – his aggression and anxiety just skyrocketed." Virgil spoke softly when it seemed as if Alan had finally fallen asleep. "Alan had already ripped some hair from his head and wouldn't hold still for the nurses trying to stop the bleeding. When I couldn't get Alan to calm down, Dr. Warner called the psych ward to get soft restraints and some orderlies came up to restrain Alan to the bed. I called you barely five minutes later."

Jeff sat in silence as he gathered everything Virgil said. Something had set Alan off and he wondered what that something was. His eye caught the glimmering of a moving image on Alan's laptop and he motioned for Virgil to lift the lid. What the two of them saw made them shiver – but it gave Jeff insight into what it was that caused Alan's psychotic episode. There in the middle of the screen was a color picture of Virgil carrying a limp Alan – the glow of the fire illuminating them. Alan's head was resting comfortably in the crook of Virgil's arm in the picture however he looked like a spaghetti noodle that was over boiled – his legs and arms hung limply (broken arm draped over his chest).

"Why would they put this picture in the newspaper dad?" Virgil was at a loss as he looked at the picture – he was shocked, but was sure this image caused Alan's psychosis.

"I don't know Virgil, but I plan on contacting them first thing tomorrow to request they take it from their website – I'll tell them the truth…my son, the victim saw the picture and had flashbacks of the fire and experienced PTSD." Jeff was determined to do anything for Alan so he wouldn't experience the same thing again. "If they refuse, I swear I will threaten with a lawsuit."

"I don't blame you dad. Just seeing that picture makes me think of memories I'd rather not think of." Virgil replied just as the door opened to reveal a hospital bed. "There's my bed, now to wonder if I'll actually be able to sleep."

"Oh you will Virgil…Dr. Warner has asked me to give you and Alan both something for sleep." Turning her gaze to Jeff Karen spoke. "And I won't hesitate to give you a taste if you don't follow doctor's orders and try to sleep yourself."

"Yes ma'am." Jeff didn't think he'd have trouble falling asleep, he was still dog tired especially after being woken up at three something in the morning and making a literal flying trip to the eastern seaboard.

Karen stopped the bed within arm's reach of Alan's bed before shoost ing Virgil ahead of her to climb in to bed before she tucked the young man in. Raising a hypodermic needle to the IV tubing, Karen injected some medicine to help Virgil sleep before doing the same with Alan and making a motion as if she was prepared to do the same to Jeff if he didn't close his eyes that moment.

TBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTB

John opened his eyes slowly to the bright morning light and yawned before rolling over. Glancing to his left, John noticed his dad's side of the bed was empty and a quick pat told John that his dad hadn't been in bed for some time. Rolling over to look at the clock, John noticed his dad's cell phone was gone and in its place was a note. Picking up the note, John read through it before he slapped a hand to his forehead.

"Oh god, I don't believe it!" Springing up from his bed, John gathered his clothes and began to dress over his boxers and tank top which acted as his pajamas the night before. His frantic scrabbling woke Scott and Gordon almost immediately.

"What?" Scott craned his neck to look at his John.

"What's going on?" Gordon lifted his head from beneath the pillow he'd burrowed under at some point.

"Dad left." John hopped on one foot as he hurriedly slid his socks on.

"What do you mean?" Scott sat up further as he rubbed sleep from his eyes. The note fluttering into his lap was John's answer.

"Read it and weep." John displayed incredible balance as he stood on one foot while tying the laces on his shoes.

"Lemme see." Scott read through the note before his reaction was practically identical to John's reaction. "Damn it all!"

"What?" Gordon pulled the pillow from off the top of his head as he watched his two brothers bounce from pillar to post in their hotel suite.

"John's right. Dad left to return to Manhattan. Virgil called and said something was wrong with Alan." Scott read quickly off the note. "Something about a mental breakdown."

Gordon swore softly as he too got up and out of bed before hurriedly dressing. Their dad couldn't possibly have left them without transportation to get home…could he?

"He took the jet didn't he?" Gordon asked, dreading the answer. "Why the hell didn't he wake us up?"

Scott looked at the note and noticed in smaller print that his dad wrote: "Asked Parker to transport me – it's quicker than the jet. Love you boys and listen to grandma."

"No, he asked Parker to take him in FAB-1." Slumping down into the bed, Scott stared at the note. "Why didn't he wake us up?"

"Maybe since Alan's in an isolation ward he figured there was no sense in worrying us." John suggested.

"It's an even worse idea to take off in the middle of the night with just a note explaining his disappearance." Scott replied.

"I'm sure dad had his reasons Scott." John reasoned as he could see where their dad might have been coming from by not waking them up.

"I'm sure, but still he could have still woken us up." Scott refuted.

"Why, to worry us by telling us half the story and telling us to stay put? I'm sure even he didn't quite know the full story when he left Scott, give dad a break. Perhaps dad just didn't want us breathing down his neck when he was trying to get to Alan. We all tend to be overbearing when it concerns the safety of Alan and maybe dad felt overwhelmed that something was going wrong." John stated as he defended their father's actions. Sure he was hurt and felt like their dad didn't trust them, but then their dad would practically go to the ends of the earth for any of his sons and if that included playing fly by night to get Alan to calm down then that was the name of the game.

TBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTB

Jeff woke up with Alan still clinging to his t-shirt as the boy had fallen asleep that way several hours prior. His neck was screaming from the crick but craning his neck to the side – Jeff couldn't help the smile. Alan looked comfortable, looked like he was resting easy – no nightmares. Any neck pain he experienced was well worth it after last night. Slowly run a hand up and down Alan's back Jeff began to feel like he was being watched and he glanced to his right to see Virgil lying in bed awake and staring at the two of them. Virgil lifted a hand from beneath his bed covers to hold a finger in front of his mouth – telling his dad not to talk. The two of them remained content to watch Alan sleep as he snuggled further into his father's arms.

Gingerly, Virgil climbed from his bed – grimacing as he put weight on his legs that would rather not even be in use at the moment. Sitting in his wheelchair and wheeling closer, Virgil whispered to his dad.

"How'd you sleep dad?" Virgil gently rubbed Alan's shoulder and paused when Alan squirmed before settling back down.

"I slept okay…and yourself?" Jeff continued to rub Alan's back up and down – gently so as to not irritate the still healing burns on his back. Jeff didn't like being able to feel Alan's vertebra, but then when Alan was out of the hospital and back home he'd allow Onaha and his mother to fatten Alan up on some rich foods.

"Better once we got Allie calmed down." At that statement both Jeff and Virgil glanced at Alan when the boy sighed in his sleep before rubbing his face into the material of Jeff's shirt and nodding off again.

"Sleep kiddo, you deserve the rest." Jeff moved his hand from Alan's back to the boy's hair and lightly scratched Alan's scalp. Alan gave another sigh in pleasure making Jeff and Virgil smile. Alan's face was relaxed – his eyes were moving slowly beneath his lids, breathing was even and slow and twitching was kept to a minimum.

TBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTB

"But grandma!" Scott stood before his grandmother with a look of shock on his face.

"No Scott, let your father handle Alan – you and your brothers won't be permitted entrance into the isolation ward as it is. If your father was granted entrance, it was only used to get Alan to calm himself before he caused himself or someone else further harm." Ruth stood before Scott, John and Gordon with her arms crossed. Lady Penelope and Parker stood off to the side watching the verbal tennis match go back and forth. Parker had already told the family what he knew -–which wasn't much because Jeff hadn't a clue at the time just what caused Alan to go into hysterics.

"Can I at least call him?" Scott held his cell phone as he was very much prepared to call his father to ask why he'd just up and left without waking them.

"No, you may not. Your father is probably sleeping. Give it a few hours; he'll call you when he knows what's going on with your brother." Ruth shook her head in exasperation at her eldest grandson – he could be such a worrywart at times.

"Fine." Scott relented, he wasn't happy about it but he'd deal.

"Good, now off with you boys – go play in the pool or something." Ruth shooed them away before returning her attention back to Parker and Lady Penelope. "Anyway…where were we?"

TBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTB

Virgil sat in his wheelchair, trying to pop a wheelie as his dad conversed with the doctor. Alan awkwardly held his fork and knife as he cut into his waffles.

"Maybe it'd be best for us to just complete this first round of transplantation surgeries and let Alan go a little longer between surgeries so that he may have a therapist come in to treat his PTSD." Dr. Warner suggested lightly.

"No."

All eyes turned to Alan as he took a bite of his waffles. His eyes were closed and everyone could practically see the vein bulging in Alan's forehead.

"Why ever not Alan?" Dr. Warner questioned, truly curious as to his patient's thoughts and reasons.

"I don't want to bounce between this ward and the burn ward. I want to get everything done that needs to be done in order to heal." Alan took another bite of his waffle so that he'd quit talking enough to let that thought sink in for them all.

"I can see where you are coming from Alan. I do…but we also need to keep in mind that your mental health also needs to be seen to and it can't be done from within an isolation ward." Dr. Warner mentioned. "Last night's episode could very well be the first of many to come unless we get someone to come in and do an evaluation."

"Could be…not necessarily will be though right?" Alan set down his fork as he looked his doctor in the eye. "If there isn't a chance of me having another episode then I don't want to see anyone."

"Son, maybe you should at least talk to someone who could give you some ideas for coping in the event that it does happen again." Jeff suggested, trying to remain calm.

"No." Alan closed his eyes – feeling that to do that was the be all end all.

"Allie, you scared the crap out of us all last night. You wouldn't even let me try. Please Alan – will you at least consider it?" Virgil asked, hoping that Alan would at least think about it. "Maybe we could try both…have you talk to someone via your computer."

Alan groaned internally – Virgil just had to go there.

"If you'd like for me to recommend someone – I could talk to the group therapy specialist downstairs and see if she'd be willing to hold private sessions from her office. She has a vid phone and web camera – she could hold conference that way." Dr. Warner suggested.

"Alan?" Jeff looked at Alan with a look that made Alan realize he was fighting a losing battle. Closing his eyes, Alan finally agreed.

"Fine…but I want to make a couple of provisos." Alan folded his arms across his chest.

"Where did you learn the word 'provisos'?" Virgil couldn't recall ever having heard Alan use professional wording before.

"Apparently I spent too much time at dad's office growing up – he did let me play with my building blocks under the table during board meetings." Alan rolled his eyes as if to say 'duh'.

"Okay Alan…what are your provisos?" Jeff inquired.

"First off, if I do see this therapist…and it doesn't help me – I want no further mention of my seeing a shrink again. I don't want to have anyone pestering me to see someone if I think it doesn't help. It's already embarrassing enough." Alan looked down at his breakfast – no longer feeling hungry. "Second – I don't want any of you going over my head and making decisions for me. It's my future – my body, my mind and I trust you all to not just make decisions willy nilly for me."

Jeff and Virgil nodded in agreement to Alan's rules. They knew Alan was being genuine about his rules and he wished they would abide by it.

"I want your promise that you'll abide by my wishes – please, show me that I am heard in this family. I may be fourteen, but I'm still my own person." Alan sent his father and brother a look of longing. "Please, trust me."

"Okay Alan." Jeff nodded as he voiced his agreement.

"Thanks dad." Alan finally smiled at his dad. It was small, but it was still a smile.

"No problem Alan." Jeff squeezed Alan's neck in assurance. "So will you give it a try Alan?"

"Fine. Send in the shrink." Alan held his hands up in an 'I give up' gesture.

"Okay, when we're through here – I'll talk to the group therapist and see if she can squeeze you in Alan. If she's not able to, I'm sure she can recommend someone." Dr. Warner wrote a note to himself.

"Great…" Alan muttered under his breath.

"When you're done with your breakfast Alan, I will need to ask that your dad and brother step outside o that I can change your dressings on your feet." Dr. Warner gestured at the materials he'd brought in when he'd entered the room.

"I'm finished." Alan gazed at his half-eaten breakfast. No longer feeling hungry since he felt like he'd been backed into a corner like a caged animal.

"Alright, well – I suppose I'd best be getting your brother back to his room too." Jeff felt kind of awkward not having to deal with a shouting match with his youngest son. Usually Alan and his temper would have flared by now leaving nothing but raised blood pressures and headaches for Jeff but Alan seemed unusually subdued. Moving almost like stop animation, Jeff leaned back up to Alan's head and pressed a kiss to Alan's forehead before hugging his young son. Alan gave a half-hearted response but that was it. Pulling away, Jeff in a last ditch effort to get something resembling his young son's spit fire attitude to show itself, he tousled Alan's hair and got the reaction he was looking for. Alan jerked his head away and he sent a pointed glare which lacked any heat at his father before smirking.

"Bye dad…thanks." Alan gave his dad a weak smile as his dad grabbed Virgil's wheelchair handles and left.

TBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTB

Stopping in the hall Jeff couldn't help but to look back towards Alan's hospital room as he shook his head. This just felt weird. Having to make a flying trip back to Manhattan to make sure his son wasn't put on anti-psychotics, spending the night with his youngest and middle sons in Alan's hospital room, sitting up and having a decent conversation with Alan and Virgil together without having to referee any sibling bantering and then Alan agreeing to see a therapist privately to get a handle on his PTSD. It just felt plain weird.

"Today feel off to you too dad?" Virgil sounded off to his dad too, his voice sounding strangely detached.

"Yeah, how'd you guess?" Jeff kept his eyes trained on Alan's hospital room, wanting more than anything to be in there with his son and to not leave his son alone while he was getting treatment for his surgery and burns.

"I can hear you thinking dad." Virgil replied. "You know it surprises me that the hospital put me and Alan next door to each other."

"Huh?" Jeff shook himself from his thoughts and concentrated back on Virgil.

"Room 465…that's my room. Alan is in 466. I was just saying I was surprised that Alan and I were placed as each other's neighbors." Virgil gestured for his hospital room.

"Oh, yeah…maybe they did that on purpose Virge." Jeff replied unnecessarily.

"I kind of figured that dad. I mean two brothers – might as well place them next to each other, it'd be easier to keep track of us…wouldn't you say so dad?" Virgil quirked an eyebrow in question.

"Yeah…" Jeff resumed his distracted thoughts, wishing more than anything that he could see his boys longer…seeing Alan last night, despite his psychosis had been a nice change of pace – after not being able to see Alan for the past week and a half. It was harder for him to not be able to see his son when they were in relative close proximity to each other and yet couldn't see each other. "Well, let's get you back to your room Virgil, I'd best be getting on to the hotel and give your grandmother and brothers a call. They'll have my head as it is."

"Okay dad. You head on." Virgil hugged his dad firmly, glad that his dad had come out the night prior when he and Alan had been in such distress. It just proved how much their dad loved the both of them – and all of his sons.

TBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTB

Alan lay in his bed, watching as Dr. Warner lightly dabbed at his feet with a betadine doused gauze pad. Hissing at the cold more than the sting of the medicine – Alan watched the doctor as he inspected the surgical sight.

"Well, they are looking really good Alan." Dr. Warner looked really close at Alan's feet as he gently prodded Alan's feet. Even with his trained eye, he could barely see the point of sutures where the new skin had been placed. And he'd done the sutures himself. "Really good in fact. Looks like the blood flow is returning as it should, your feet look healthy for the most part."

"Except for my skin looking grey in places." Alan replied, not believing the doctor for what he was saying.

"It only looks grey because that is the damaged tissue beneath which has yet to regain blood flow. It'll happen Alan, it's only been two days we need to give it time." Dr. Warner got some antibiotic cream and started to apply it to Alan's feet. Dr. Warner gently clamped a hand onto Alan's foot when he kept pulling it away with a grimace. "Hold still Alan."

"I can't it feels weird." Alan pulled back again and both he and Dr. Warner paused as their gazes locked onto each other's. "I thought you said…"

"I did, but it has been known to happen. Do you?" Dr. Warner began to ask when Alan cut him off.

"A little bit, but it feels like ant bites." Alan kept his gaze locked onto Dr. Warner's eyes. "That…that feels like ant bites."

Dr. Warner paused where he'd had his hand on the sole of Alan's foot. He'd been palpating the bottoms of Alan's feet with the tips of his fingers. He'd purposely hid Alan's foot beneath his blanket so Alan couldn't tell when the doctor would be touching his foot.

"Remarkable." Dr. Warner glanced at Alan's other foot which he hadn't even started on yet. He wondered if the results would be the same for Alan's other foot or if this'd been a fluke.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Alan asked with a hint of apprehension and excitement. He hoped he'd be able to feel even a touch of sensation like with his left foot. It'd make feeling lonely worth it. "Please, just do it."

TBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTB

Fermat lay in his bed listening to his physical therapist who had come in with Dr. Andreessen's blessings – entirely decked out like his father was in medical scrubs and surgical masks. The therapist was instructing his father how to help Fermat flex his foot so they could check the strength of his calf muscle after the two surgeries he'd had to repair it.

That falling beam had really done a number on Fermat's calf muscle. It'd torn not just the gastrocnemius but it'd also torn the soleus. Those two muscles alone made up the calf alone, so for the both of them to have been torn would significantly impair Fermat – had it not been for the immediate surgery to repair what could be repaired. Thus the reason for Fermat's physical therapist coaching his dad on how to assist Fermat with flexing his leg.

"Damn t-that hurts…" Fermat groaned between his clenched teeth.

"Language F-Fermat." Brains chided as he held Fermat's heel in his hands while pushing on the ball of Fermat's foot – forcing Fermat to bend his leg, stretching the muscle to make sure it didn't stiffen and lock up.

"S-Sorry dad." Fermat bit his tongue so as to not cuss again. It's just that it really, really hurt. It felt like the equivalent of a Charlie horse ten times over. Moaning, Fermat reached down and physically removed his foot from his father's grasp – he didn't want to be touched at the moment. Blinking back the tears, Fermat tried to focus on something other than his own pain. He wondered how Alan was doing today, sure they'd talked practically all day yesterday – but he missed his friend.

He missed being able to talk to him whenever he felt like it, missed seeing Alan daily, missed sharing meals with him, miss everything about Alan. He knew Alan would be back, but it couldn't come soon enough and for Fermat – talking on the computer just wasn't the same. How he wished the two months could feel like possibly two hours so that he could see his best friend again. He really missed Alan. The older boy usually distracted Fermat during his therapy sessions – keeping the younger boy's mind away from the pain.

"You're doing a good job Fermat. Here soon, I'd like to try to have you start practicing step ups." The therapist said as he gently massaged Fermat's calf when the muscles visibly tightened up – making Fermat cry out as he threw his head back into his pillow. "I think that's enough for today."

Fermat's therapist pulled the blankets back over Fermat's legs before he stood up from where he'd been sitting on the opposite side of Fermat's bed. "So I'll see you in two days' time then. Hope you have a good day Fermat." The therapist left the room, leaving Fermat and his dad alone together. Fermat curled into a ball the moment the therapist left the room.

"Are y-you okay Fermat?" Brains asked, rightfully worried about his son.

"Y-Yeah, I'm just tired." Fermat replied as he curled into a tighter ball – he wanted to be left alone right now, but he didn't have the heart to say anything to his father. He hoped maybe his dad would have something to do aside from sit there with him all day when all Fermat wanted was to be left alone.

His father's cell phone rang – saved by the bell – and Brains answered it swiftly.

"T-This is Brains." Hiram answered the phone – without looking at the caller id. He listened on the phone for a few minutes before standing up. "W-What are you d-doing back so s-soon Jeff?"

Fermat perked up at that and lifted his head to look at his father using his periphery.

"I see. H-How's he doing?" Brains asked, as he moved across the room. "I'm v-visiting Fermat right n-now. Do you n-need a ride back t-to the hotel?"

Fermat remained lying on his side, back facing his dad but he continued to try listening to his father's side of the conversation. He was trying to glean who the he could be. Alan and Virgil both were in the hospital so it had to be one of them. Of course with know Alan as long as he had – he'd bet that whatever happened – had happened to Alan. That was just his luck, attracting trouble like a magnet.

"Sure, I'll m-meet you down in the l-lobby. See you in f-five." Brains hung up his cell phone before turning back to Fermat. The boy looked at his dad – his eyes magnified by the glass of his glasses. "Son, t-that was Alan's d-dad. Looks like I'll b-be taking my leave f-for now."

"What h-happened dad?" Fermat questioned.

"I don't k-know son. Jeff didn't s-say what happened. A-All he said was t-that he returned l-last night and was c-calling to catch a r-ride back to the m-motel with me." Brains said softly not liking that he was lying to his son about what really happened. But it's just Fermat didn't need to know right away what happened to Alan, he figured he could tell Fermat later after talking to Jeff to gather the full details Either that or Fermat could talk to Alan and find out what happened.

"Okay." Fermat slouched in his bed and turned his back to his father once more.

"Have a g-good rest of your d-day son." Brains stepped forward before lightly kissing Fermat's forehead. "I love you."

"I love you too dad." Fermat replied softly, before closing his eyes, feigning sleep to his father.