Scott in car

After one final turn, Scott slammed on his brakes. Twenty minutes after leaving the hotel, he had finally gotten to the warehouse. Turning off the car, he grabbed his phone from the seat and a hand gun with a flashlight from the glove box; never go anywhere without one, Scott thought to himself.

Cautiously getting out of the car and looking around, Scott turned on the little light and shone it around the small clearing. Seeing nothing that looked ready to jump out and attack him, Scott stalked over to the front door.

A key pad above the handle had a blinking yellow light, I really hope that means the transaction was verified by the kidnapper…and not warning that a booby-trap is about to go off, Scott thought. Taking a deep breath he punched in the code, 7653, and the light turned green with a small beep and clicking sound.

Steeling himself, Scott turned the handle and slowly opened the door. Holding his gun at the ready and shining the light around the room, Scott saw the table with keys on it.

A vibrating from his pocket startled Scott, fishing out his phone with his left hand he awkwardly held his gun in his bandaged right. A text from John read: Hey, we just talked to Kyrano and Brains…Where are you?

Grumbling, Scott put his gun down on the table and cast a quick glance around, before responding: I am at the warehouse…about to find Alan…do not text me BACK!

Shoving his phone in his pocket, and grabbing his gun and the keys, Scott made his way slowly towards a door that lead down stairs.

Alan's room

Marina had left a while ago, leaving Alan with a warm feeling and new energy. Now he was lying in the chest, trying to stay calm and not lose hope; that in itself was a feat for him.

He had tried to undo his wrist bindings, but anything that involved moving his hands, made his right hand hurt all the more. Finally giving that up, he laid his head back and tried not to think about the chest he was currently locked in.

After a few minutes, he started to hear doors opening and closing and footsteps getting closer. His heart sped up and he had trouble controlling his breathing. Who's coming? What do I do if it isn't my family? What do I do if it is my family? His mind started racing.

Unnoticed tears started to fall and Alan felt himself starting to go from a panicked fear to an anticipating impatience, and then back to panicked.

The door to his room finally opened, and Alan held his breath.

Scott in hall

Checking each room he passed, Scott made sure no one could sneak up on him. Finally reaching the door that the kidnapper said Alan would be in, Scott tried the handle.

It was locked, clenching his jaw in frustration, Scott tried to find the key that fit the lock, did there really have to be ten keys on this damn chain?

Finally getting the right key, Scott unlocked the door and opened it. His heart went to his throat when he saw a room with a table, desk, bed, and chest, but no Alan.

Silently entering the room, Scott figured this was where Alan had been held; a cut shirt was on the floor by the desk, a plate with crumbs was on the table, a lot of rope was attached to a chair and the bed, along with cuffs.

"Alan," Scott eventually called out softly. After a pause, a thud from behind him had Scott whipping around. All he saw was a chest at the foot of the bed – a chest with three locks on it!

Catching his breath, Scott rushed to the chest and knelt next to it, "Al!" He called again, gently tapping on the lid. A muffled cry and thud answered him. "I'm going to get you out, Sprout," Scott called a few tears escaping from his eyes, "Just have to unlock these stupid padlocks. Hang on, Sprout,"

Frustratingly trying to find the keys that went to each lock, because they just had to be different for each one, Scott swore under his breath whenever a keyed failed.

Finally, after several minutes of incorrect keys, Scott got all three open and threw the lid open. His breath catching in his throat, Scott's heart skipped a couple beats seeing Alan trussed up, shirtless, blindfolded, and gagged. "Alan, I'm here," Scott said reaching in to undo the gag, "You're safe now, Sprout, I got you."

Once the gag was out, Alan let out a strangled sob. Feeling the blindfold loosen and fall away, he slowly opened his eyes.

"Easy, Sprout," Scott soothed as he stuck his hand gun in his waist band and took out a knife to start cutting the ropes away, "I'm getting you out of here."

"Scottie," Alan cried weakly, unable to hold back his relief driven tears.

Throwing the last of the ropes away, Scott took Alan gently by the shoulders and sat him up.

Alan immediately wrapped his arms around Scott's neck, shaking with the force of his emotions, "Shhh," Scott soothed, rubbing Alan's back, "You safe now, Sprout, I got you, shhh."

Alan cried into Scott's shoulder as Scott scooped him up; one arm under Alan's knees and the other supporting his back. Continuing to sooth his distraught brother, Scott made his way out of the warehouse.

"Alan," Scott said, putting his brother in the passenger seat and squatting in front of him, "Tell me, are you hurt anywhere?"

Alan reluctantly let go of his Scott's neck and nodded. Holding out his right hand, "I kinda…messed up…my hand," he managed between sobs. Taking deep breaths, Alan tried to calm himself.

Scott chuckled to himself, "You and me both, Sprout," Scott smiled holding up his own injured hand, "What happened to you?" Scott asked in a soft voice, but inside he was pissed at the guy responsible.

"Um," Alan bit his lip, "You know about the shocking?" Scott nodded tightly, "Well…I kind of had muscle spasm afterwards…and broke a cup during one of them."

Scott's face went blank as he digested what Alan just said. Then he cracked a crooked smile, "You telling me that your scrawny muscles are strong enough to grasp a glass cup so hard, it shatters in your hand!"

Alan let out a watery laugh of his own, "Apparently scrawny doesn't mean weak, Scooter," he replied wryly.

Scott chuckled as he buckled Alan into the seat and closed the door. He was still smiling when he got in the driver's seat and closed the door, "Oh, Alan," he snickered, "You are never going to live that down."

"I think it's a show of strength," Alan huffed, "Can you say you broke a glass with your bare hand?"

Scott snorted as he started up the car, and headed for the road, "No, I guess I can't."

"And how did you hurt your hand?" Alan asked noticing Scott driving one handed.

"I may or may not have punched a wall," Scott muttered, "And can you reverse the direction on the GPS, I really wasn't paying attention as I drove here."

"Let me guess, the wall won," Alan chuckled as he reset the GPS with his left hand.

"I really can't tell you," Scott replied, "It was a hit-and-run situation." Carefully and with a few grimaces, Scott dug his phone out of his pocket with his right hand and held it out to Alan, "Here, call Dad."

Alan took the phone with a smile and speed dialed his father's cell, "Scott, where are you?" Alan sighed hearing his father's voice.

"Um, he's driving right now," Alan said softly, "And can't come to the phone." Scott chuckled at his brother's words; both feeling cheerful despite the events of the past thirty hours.

"Alan!" Jeff's voice said loud enough for Scott to hear, "How are you? Are you hurt? Where are you?"

"Dad," Alan cut him off, "Please, one question at a time."

"Tell him we'll be back at the hotel in twenty minutes or so, around eleven o'clock," Scott said, following the GPS's directions, and the speed limits.

"I'm fine," Alan said, after a cough from Scott, he added, "Just busted up my hand a little. And Scott says we'll be at the hotel around eleven."

"What do you mean you busted up your hand?" John's voice came on the phone.

"That guy hurt you, Sprout?" Virgil growled.

"Take it I'm on speaker," Alan quipped, deflecting the questions.

"You got that right, Al," Gordon replied, "Now answer the questions."

Alan looked at Scott, who shrugged, "Can I tell you guys later? In person? I am really sick of talking to you and not seeing you."

"Sure, Alan," Jeff answered, "We can wait, right boys?"

"Yes," was the grumbled reply from Alan's brothers.

"Tell Scott to hurry, but follow the rules of the road this time," Jeff said, "We'll see you soon, son."

"Okay, Dad," Alan replied, "Bye." Closing the phone, Alan looked at Scott, "What'd Dad mean by follow the rules of the road this time?"

Coughing and diligently looking out the window, Scott muttered, "I may have broken a few speed records for these roads."

Alan laughed at his brother's explanation, "Was it the mother hen or the protective brother that made you do it?" Alan asked with a yawn and closed his eyes.

"Again, I take the protective big brother option," Scott said glancing at Alan; smiling noticing that Alan had fallen asleep without hearing the answer.