CONSEQUENCES
By Spense
Chapter Eight
A couple of days later, a status meeting was once again in progress in Jeff's office. It had become a habit now, meeting there at about twilight.
John would be on the vidphone, and they'd go over the days events and check on Alan.
"Well, it doesn't seem that Alan's made much progress," John commented after they had checked out the days report.
"No," Jeff said, disappointed. "But at least there's a dialogue now between he and the doctors. We didn't even have that until a few days ago."
"They did tell you it would take time," Virgil pointed out.
"True," Jeff agreed.
"At least he's sleeping better," Scott pointed out.
Nobody really had much to say after that.
"Well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news," John said finally, "but I'm afraid I have some more." At the palpable surge of adrenalin in the room and the swift swiveling of heads towards him, he hastened to add, "No, not about Alan. Relax. I checked in on the clinic's logs 10 minutes ago, and he's fine."
The mood in the room relaxed at once, bringing a slight smile to John's face. If only Alan could see them now, he thought. "No, it's about the Hood."
"Oh, man," Virgil groaned. "Will that man EVER go away?"
"Well, apparently, that's exactly what he did," John replied. "He escaped from prison."
"When?" Scott asked.
"How come we haven't heard about it?" Gordon asked.
"Well, because nobody is really sure how long he's been gone."
"How can that be?" Virgil asked in confusion.
John shrugged. "Couldn't tell you. But they checked his cell, and there are several days worth of meal trays there, and no Hood. They only noticed because of the smell."
"You mean nobody noticed the extra trays?" Scott asked, perplexed.
John shrugged again. "Don't ask me."
Jeff had been silent, but suddenly snapped his fingers. "Mind control."
"What?" Scott said, now completely confused.
"Don't you remember? Alan said something about it, and I watched that man lift Alan easily six feet off the ground and do his best to choke the life out of him without touching him or being anywhere near him!"
"Well, yeah," Gordon said, "But that's way different than making everybody think he was still someplace when he was actually far, far, away. Right?"
"TinTin had the gift too. Maybe she could shed some light on it," Jeff suggested.
"I'll go find her," Virgil said firmly. "I don't want that man on the loose any longer than necessary."
"Good. Get her parents too," Jeff called after him.
"I'll get them," Gordon offered, and hurried out of the room.
"I'll get Brains looking into it as well," Scott muttered, following his brothers out the door.
Jeff watched for a moment, then realized that John had been quiet. Too quiet. He turned back to the monitor.
"John?" He asked softly. "Are you all right?"
"Fine," John answered shortly, looking a little too vague for Jeff's taste.
"John!" Jeff snapped. "Don't do that. I've had enough of that from Alan, and I don't think I can handle anymore."
John looked startled, then looked closer at his father's face. Jeff looked to have aged 10 years in the last few months. The situation with Alan was truly taking it's toll. He felt bad for causing more grief.
"I'm sorry Dad. I guess old habits die hard. Believing that if you don't say anything about it, the problem might go away, or if it doesn't, I can solve it myself."
Jeff smiled slightly. "We are all far too stubborn for our own good," he commented, then waited expectantly.
"Yeah, Dad, I'm scared. Scared that that man will come after me again. Petrified, really," John admitted ruefully.
Jeff could see that for all the lightness John was putting into his tone, he really was terrified. "Do you want us to come up and get you?"
John looked relieved for a second, then thoughtful, which finally gave way to determination. "No," he finally said firmly. "I love it up here, and I'll be damned if I let one lunatic destroy it for me. I have weapons now, and trust me, I'll use them."
Jeff nodded slowly. He was still so shaken with the shape Alan was in, and so out of control in that situation, all he wanted to do was gather all of his sons to him and protect them the best he could. But John was an adult, more than capable of making up his own mind, and Jeff had to allow that.
"All right. But you check in every six hours until we catch that man," he said sternly.
"FAB, Dad. And keep me informed on what comes up from talking with the Kyranos."
"Will do. Keep an eye on Alan for me?"
"Of course." John looked over at a monitor. "Looks like he's sound asleep right now."
Jeff relaxed minutely. "Good. Thanks John."
"Anytime. Talk to you in six hours, Dad."
"Or sooner if we have anything new to report."
TB TB TB TB TB
John sat in the dark space station, pensively watching Alan toss and turn on the screen. It was late night where Alan was, actually, about 3 in the morning. But from what John could tell, Alan hadn't been sleeping since about he'd turned in. He'd had several days of sleeping better, but now they were back to this.
A beep startled him. Looking over at the panel, he punched open the channel.
"Looks like somebody else can't sleep," he commented in way of greeting.
"Shut up, John," Scott said amiably in return.
"If you called to talk, why are you telling me to shut up?" John asked, grinning.
Scott rolled his eyes. "You can't sleep either?"
"No, Alan can't."
Scott's eyes reflected sudden concern. "You have Alan up on the screen?"
"Uh-huh. He's been awake for the last several hours."
"Damn, I thought we were past this," Scott muttered. "Nightmares or insomnia?"
"Both, as near as I can tell." John paused for a moment, then stated quietly, "You know that he went back to the infirmary drug cabinet later the night Virgil put a lock on it."
"Yeah, I checked the logs," Scott answered, depressed.
John gave a brief nod. He thought that Scott probably had.
"Does Dad know?" Scott asked.
"Yes. I checked and told him, when he spoke to me about it. That was one reason he decided to send Alan to the clinic. He said Virgil was really, really undone."
"He sure was," Scott commented. "He doesn't know Alan went back. I didn't tell him. He was upset enough as it was."
"Wow," John said. "He didn't ask? That doesn't sound like Virg."
"I've got to tell you, John. This whole thing scares the crap out of me. I just don't know what to do. Alan's always yelled, pouted, thrown tantrums, and basically let everybody know what he feels from the day he was born."
John grinned. "I'll say. We all knew when he wanted anything! He sure kept Mom and Dad hopping."
"And you and me," Scott said with a wry laugh. He sobered instantly. "But now . . ."
John sighed. "Yeah, but now. Depression is a scary thing, that's for sure."
"I just want to shake him and tell him to snap out of it!" Scott groaned.
"That won't help, Scotty and you know it. Depression is a chemical imbalance in the brain, and who knows what else is going on besides."
"I know, I know," Scott moaned. "The bit about him hearing voices nearly sent me over the bend right there with him. I don't know if I can handle Scyzophrenia." He turned thoughtful all of a sudden. "You don't suppose the Hood has anything to do with this, do you . . .?"
John was startled for a moment as he considered the matter. "No," he said finally. "No, I don't. For one thing, how could he keep it up this long, and at this distance? We haven't seen nor heard from him. No, this is strictly a mental issue. You know as well as I do that teenagers are more likely than not to have some kind of problem with depression, and who knows whatever other mental illness. It's bad enough without having to manufacture some sort of additional stressor."
Scott was nodding a slow agreement. "Point taken. Like we don't have stressors enough without making up more. I guess I just never saw Alan as the depressed type."
"What's a depressed type, Scott?" John said pointedly, softening the impact with a smile.
"Shut up, John," Scott said with a grin.
"Go to bed, Scott. I'll talk to you tomorrow."
"I will if you will!"
On that light note, John broke off the communication at looked once again at the monitor showing his little brother's room. He wished he could cheer up Alan as easily as Scott had lightened his mood. But this problem seemed to be a lot harder and long lasting.