Virgil put the med kit on the kitchen counter and washed his hands in the sink. Looking over the half wall at his three other brothers and father, he called softly, "Al's hand should be fine. Needed to give him stitches on a few of the bigger cuts, but not too bad otherwise," he dried his hands and walked over to his family. "His hand did get infected, but a round of general antibiotics should take care of that. We should run blood work back at the island to be sure though."
Jeff nodded, taking in the information, "How long until he recovers?"
"A few weeks or so," Virgil supplied, "So long as he doesn't pull the stitches, then some physical therapy will help him with motor function. Thankfully, none of the cuts caused nerve damage, so he should get full use back; just have some scarring."
"He tell you anything else?" Scott asked.
"Not much," Virgil looked at his oldest brother, noticing his bandaged hand. "And what did you do to your hand?" He asked pointing to said hand.
Glancing at his right hand, Scott shrugged nonchalantly, "Punched a wall."
Gordon couldn't stop the laugh that erupted from his throat and John hid his smirk with a fake cough. Jeff looked at his oldest, an unspoken question in his eyes. "Sufern was getting on my nerves," Scott muttered, "Better the wall than him, right?" He glanced at his father.
Jeff rolled his eyes and smiled in amusement. Virgil, however, looked very serious as he walked up to Scott. Taking Scott's left arm in his, he dragged his brother over to the kitchen and sat him on one of barstools under the half wall, "You just had to punch a wall; let me guess, it was also brick."
"Like I said, it was better than punching Sufern," Scott defended.
Virgil opened the med kit again, and put on another pair of gloves, "And you were going to bring it up when?"
"When it started to hurt. Which it doesn't, see I took care of it," Scott said holding up is bandaged hand and pointed to it.
Taking Scott's right hand, Virgil began undoing the ace bandage. Setting it aside, he took off the crudely placed gauze and put it into a new waste bag. Shaking his head and glaring at his brother, Virgil remarked, "And this doesn't hurt? Not even when I do this?" Virgil punctuated his question by gently poking Scott's middle finger's knuckle.
Breathing in sharply and suppressing a groan, Scott clenched his left hand and shook his head, "No," he ground out, "Doesn't hurt at all."
Nodding his head knowingly, Virgil cleaned the open skin around Scott's first three knuckles. Gently prodding the other knuckles, he got similar reactions to the first. Turning back to the med kit, he silently got out a brace.
"Alright, Field Commander," Virgil said in his best doctor voice, "You are going to wear this brace all the time until we get back to the island. Then," Virgil held up a finger, stopping Scott's protest, "Brains will do an X-Ray series to determine how badly you managed to break your hand. I can determine that three of your knuckles are at least cracked; either the phalanx or metacarpal bones. Expect light duty for a few weeks, dear brother," Virgil finished with a hard look at Scott.
Grumbling, Scott went back to his seat without a retort; doctor orders always trumped field commander orders.
Jeff hid his amusement at his oldest son acting like his youngest. "Alright boys," Jeff spoke up, addressing his four present sons, "It's nearing midnight and we all need our sleep."
No one protested the statement; there was no doubt it was true.
"I'll take the couch," John offered, "You four can figure out the rest of the sleeping arrangements."
"There's only enough bed for three more people," Scott said standing, "And I call dibs on one, considering I have been here the longest." With that he went quietly into the bedroom.
"You should take a bed, Dad," Virgil told his father, "I can take the floor out here."
"You sure, Virgil?" Jeff questioned.
"Yes," Virgil said firmly, going to the closet and getting a pillow for himself and John.
John got two blankets from the closet and added, "We'll make sure no one tries to sneak a midnight snack," he smiled looking at Gordon.
"Whoa," Gordon threw his hands up, "Why you looking at me? I like to sleep through the night thank you."
"Through the night, interrupted with a snack break," Virgil teased.
"Fine," Gordon huffed, "You elders want the couch and floor, okay! I'll sleep in the comfy bed," With that, Gordon turned and stalked, silently, into the bedroom.
"Good night, boys," Jeff whispered, heading for the bedroom himself.
"Night, Dad," John and Virgil responded; both settling into their makeshift beds and turning out the light.
As Jeff walked into the bedroom, he saw Gordon curled up under the covers next to Alan. Scott was standing in the doorway to the bathroom, and waved his father over, "He hasn't been handling this well," Scott whispered, gesturing at Gordon.
Jeff nodded, "He couldn't watch the first two live feeds, and ended up seeing the worse two."
Scott sighed, leaning on the door frame; watching his two youngest brothers for a moment, Scott finally said, "I told him to sleep with Alan," Scott glanced at his father, "You don't mind, do you?"
"No," Jeff shook his head, "It may help both of them. But I call dibs on the side closer to Alan," he added with a wry smiled.
Scott mock glared, "Oh? And how do you know I didn't already?"
"Doesn't matter," Jeff said patting Scott's shoulder, "I'm calling seniority."
That decided, the two oldest Tracy's finished getting ready for bed, and lay down under the covers; both finally finding sleep after an hour of making sure Alan was really there.
Meanwhile, Alan was stuck in another dream:
"You aren't really safe, boy," the cold voice sneered, "You are still in the chest. And I am coming to get you. Your family failed you…you are mine forever now."
"NO!" Alan wanted to scream, but the gag was in his mouth again. He was sitting in the dark again, his hands and feet tied together so he couldn't stand or move.
"Yes Alan," The shadow circled him, teasing him, toying with him, "I will come and take you away. You will stay in a box, until I want entertainment, then you can come out."
Alan shook his head, no, he thought, I am back with my family!
A cold laughter filled the dark room, "No, they didn't pay enough. You are mine now. Forget about them, and submit," the shadow ordered, wrapping Alan in its cold grip, "Submit to me, boy, submit!"
"LEAVE HIM ALONE!" A voice suddenly boomed, bringing light with it, "He will never be yours!"
Alan felt the shadow suddenly let go and heard it shriek at the light, "He's mine, you can't have him!"
"NO! He is not yours, leave now, and never come back!" With one final cry the shadow left.
Alan looked up and saw Marina smiling down at him, "Do not believe what it said, Alan, you are safe. You are right now sleeping in a bed at the hotel, surrounded by your family," Marina reached out and undid the bindings and gag that held Alan as she spoke.
"Why does the shadow keep coming back?" Alan asked, looking around fearfully.
"Because," Marina said lifting Alan to his feet, "It is your fear. You must not let fear control you. You held on to hope, and you were found by your family. Do not let fear win now; your family will help you fight it, but you must let them."
"I can't just forget and throw my fears aside," Alan said in a small voice, "They will always be there."
"Yes," Marina said, taking Alan's face in her hands, "But courage is not the absence of fear, Alan, it is the ability to overcome it."
"What if I don't have the strength to overcome my fears," Alan asked timidly.
"You have the strength," Marina insisted, "Do not let doubt weaken you. Promise me you will continue to hold onto hope and will fight to overcome your fears."
"I will," Alan said with more conviction that he thought he had.
"Good," Marina smiled, "Now it is time to wake up, you have slept the night away."