A/N: Well, here you go! Hope you don't hate me too much for the cliffhanger...
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"What's wrong, Virgil?" Gordon was instantly at his brother's side. With John in the hospital, Jeff tracking down a lead that he hoped would lead to his boys, and Scott and Alan missing, Gordon was the only other brother Virgil could turn too. "Virgil?" he asked nervously.
All he had heard was that his brother had gotten shot and that Scott and Alan were still missing. It had been a long week, and Gordon had only recently been checked out of the hospital with the doctor's strict instructions for him to rest.
Gordon was angry – he couldn't go swimming for two weeks at least because his appendicitis had gotten infected. He was sure that the Hood had somehow helped him along with giving him that diagnosis. Besides, it would give him an additional reason – not that he didn't have enough already – to help take out the Hood later.
Anastasia smiled sweetly at the two brothers, placed a comforting hand on Virgil's knee, and left the room, muttering something about checking on John.
"I didn't see Scott," Virgil said, swallowing hard as he allowed the tears run down his face. "When we were on the plane. The Hood was dragging Alan toward the plane, but not Scott."
Worry fisted in Gordon's stomach. That was so not good. But he felt like Virgil had forgotten something. "Look, Virgil," he said, leaning on his older brother, "Did you think about the fact that he could have already had Scott in the plane?"
Virgil swallowed hard. "No, I didn't think about that," he said, turning toward his brother.
"Let's assume that Scott's alive, before we think the worst and think that Scott is dead," Gordon said with a soft smile. He swallowed hard, though, as he thought about it. What if Scott was dead? Then he just shook his head. "We can't think like that," he finally told Virgil.
Virgil glared at Gordon. "Why not?" he demanded, looking at his younger brother and studying him for the first time since his brothers' capture over a week ago. Gordon looked exhausted, and the scars on his arms made Gordon look as though he had been using drugs, even though Virgil knew he hadn't. But in all fairness… "Dude, what happened to your arms?"
"Remember?" Gordon asked, dropping to the brown, cold, and hard bench. He really hated those things. They were even worse than the hospital chairs. HE sighed, not wanting to talk about his arms, but then again, anything would be better than Virgil and him dwelling on the fact that Scott might be dead. "I fell out of my bed on the first night? Landed on the floor, really nice and neat?"
"Oh, yeah," Virgil responded as he closed his eyes. Then he turned to smile at Gordon. "I remember that."
Gordon groaned as he closed his eyes. He really didn't like the smile on Virgil's face - that meant he was going to get all medical-informational now. Well, at least the tactic had worked...
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Scott was emotionally exhausted and he felt sick to his stomach. The Hood had decided that the best trick to keep him from escaping was to keep him busy. Between the Hood's torture, lack of sleep and his worry about John, Scott was living on the stage of permanently irritated. The fact that it had been a week and three days since their capture didn't help much, either – Scott wanted to go home. Scott knew that Alan wanted to go home, too.
They missed their family.
Scott closed his eyes, trying to refrain from getting dizzy. The Hood had him on a steady diet of drugs (he didn't know what they were, but it was either him taking them or Alan taking them, as the Hood so kindly pointed out, so Scott really had no choice), and a not-so-steady diet of food. Scott's meals usually consisted of anything he could steal from the family meals he was forced to cook.
"Scott!" Alan hissed. He made his way inside, and looked around for the Hood. Then he sank into the blue chair.
Inasmuch as Scott wanted to complain about his treatment, he knew that his brother had it far worse. Okay, maybe the Hood wasn't physically abusing Alan as much as he was Scott, but the teenager was definitely getting his fair share of emotional torment. The Hood had taken to hitting Alan every time Alan mentioned anything to do with his previous life, anything from his likes to his dislikes to… whatever. It was as if the Hood was trying to brainwash them both.
Which he probably was, Scott reflected.
"Hey," he signed towards his brother. The boys had discovered a sign language book in Alan's room. They both stole precious minutes away from the Hood whenever they could to learn from the book to communicate with each other. So far Scott could sign "hey", his name, "I love you", and "don't."
His skills needed some practice, but at least Alan knew what he meant and the Hood didn't.
"So, Alan," the Hood said as he entered the room. Neither Alan or Scott felt comfortable about calling him Ryan. It made him too personable – too much like a real person – which Scott didn't think that he was, really. What kind of person kidnapped a teenage boy and made his older brother their slave?
And killed their other bother? Scott felt sick to his stomach again as he thought about John. He closed his eyes temporarily. He couldn't believe his brother was dead.
Now he might actually have to start drinking Coke so that the company wouldn't take too big of a financial hit.
"I have a choice for you," the Hood continued. He latched onto Scott's arm, grabbing him at his elbow and physically restraining him. "Actually, first I have a question. Are you ready to become my son?"
Scott quickly shook his head. He didn't want Alan to become the Hood's son, even by verbal word of mouth. Alan shouldn't have to make the choice. He didn't care what the Hood said, either – Jeff Tracy was Alan's father.
Roughly shoving Scott to the floor, the Hood glared at him a shove towards the floor. He placed his foot non-too-gently on the small of Scott's back, not allowing him to get up. "I even got you a gift," the Hood cooed as he grinned. He dug the information out of his pocket.
There was a falsified photo ID, a birth certificate, and other information – including a fake newspaper announcement about Alan Trangh's birth. "See?" the Hood responded with a grin, gloating as he showed Alan the information. "It's official now, Alan. You're my child."
Alan, who had been staring at the Hood in mute horror until this point, finally snapped. Scott had shaken his head, hoping he was communicating silently to Alan not to give into the Hood, when Alan flipped. "I'm not your son!" Alan cried out. "I am the son of Jeff Tracy. I will never be your son!"
"Fine, then, if that's your choice," the Hood growled. He nodded towards Mullion, who had come in from the door. Scott winced. He had not seen the man since his capture and was hoping that he wouldn't see him throughout the whole time period. Of course they wouldn't get that lucky. But when had Mullion escaped? They hadn't been notified about that.
Then again, if it was after their capture, Scott could see why they wouldn't have been.
"I think Scott is a negative influence on you, Alan," the Hood said. He removed his foot from Scott's back, and Scott forced himself up to a sitting position. Somehow Scott knew he wasn't going to like what he heard about next. "Mullion, dispose of Scott, please."
"No!" Alan cried. Tears streaked down his face as he launched himself towards Scott, hoping against hope to somehow save his brother. Mullion had about 150 pounds on Alan, though, and was stronger and faster. He grabbed Scott by his arms and dragged him out of the room.
"Alan!" Scott yelled back, breaking the Hood's demands that said he couldn't speak. How he hoped the Hood wouldn't punish Alan for that. "Don't believe him, Alan! I'll come back for you!"
With that, Scott Tracy was knocked unconscious.
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Mullion was not happy with his task. He really didn't like killing people. Well, that wasn't entirely true. He was perfectly content with killing people when he had time to torture them, but he wasn't allowed to torture Scott. He was only allowed to dump him.
He scowled. His plan was to dump Scott by the side of the road, and then come back later and torment him when the Hood was busy.
Lifting up the unconscious Scott with ease, Mullion dropped the boy's body into the nearby bushes. They wouldn't totally hide Scott from the road's view, but Mullion didn't care. He figured it was a deserted road, and that nobody would see Scott.
With that, he drove off, leaving Scott unconscious, bound and gagged, unknowingly fighting for his life.
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So, did you enjoy? Okay, perhaps enjoy is the wrong word. Do you think Scott should live? Do you think he should a) escape by himself, b) be found by someone who wants to help him, or c), be found by Mullion? Review and let me know.