Alan slowly opened his eyes and blinked at the sunlight that was peeping in through a crack in the curtains. Looking at a clock on the end table, he noticed it was almost eight thirty.
For the first time in one and a half days, Alan felt well rested. Smiling, Alan looked over at the other bed and saw his father and Scott, both facing his way and snoring softly. Rolling on to his back, Alan jumped in surprise seeing Gordon's back next to him.
Slowly sitting up, Alan got out of bed, as smoothly as he could so as not to disturb Gordon. Stifling a yawn, he rubbed his eyes as he walked into the bathroom; splashing water on his face to wake him up more. Drying off the excess water, Alan left the bathroom, and moved towards the door.
Opening it as quietly as possible, Alan saw John and Virgil sleeping in the small sitting area. I guess this is the first real sleep anyone has gotten, Alan thought to himself. Leaving the door to the bedroom open, Alan tiptoed to the kitchen and began making coffee; the energy source of the Tracy family.
As the coffee brewed, Alan pulled a bar stool into the kitchen and set it so he could look over the half wall. Then he got a glass from the cabinet and filled it with water from the sink. Taking a seat, Alan waited for the coffee aroma to fill the hotel room.
Five minutes later, Alan saw the first signs of life from the sitting area, "Five…Four…Three…" Alan counted down; as he reached one, John sat up slowly and sniffed the air as he rubbed his eyes. Smiling smugly to himself, Alan waited for him to enter the kitchen.
John followed his nose, and blindly began pouring the coffee into a mug out of habit. As he turned to the fridge, Alan softly called, "Hi-ya!"
Jumping and spinning around, John clutched his chest and gasped, "Holy…Alan!" He glared, "Give me a heart attack why don't you!"
For the first time in 36 hours, Alan grinned a genuine smile and laughed whole heartedly, "You should…have seen…your face!" Alan gasped between bouts of laughter.
John stalked over to his hysterical brother and caught him in a head lock, "You think that's funny?" He growled, "What about this?" He then proceeded to give Alan a noogie.
Alan gasped for air and attempted to get out of John's hold. Virgil came in, woken fully by the commotion, "What are you doing, John? It isn't even nine o'clock yet!"
John stopped his noogie and released Alan, "He started it," John mock whined pointing at Alan.
Alan took on a look of pure innocence; compliments of Gordon's tutelage, "I know not of what you speak, John."
At this time, Gordon came in and immediately caught on, "You have the look down, Al! Nice work!"
"Thanks Gordo!" Alan beamed at his red headed brother.
"And you just lost it," Gordon admonished, "I keep telling you, deny everything."
Alan shrugged and took a sip of his water. John grumbled to himself and continued to make his coffee, adding cream and sugar, and then going to sit on his bed/couch.
"What exactly did you do, Alan?" Scott asked leaning on the other side of the half wall and looking over his shoulder at John.
"I made coffee," Alan gestured at the pot, "Then said 'hi' to John when he was getting the creamer…He is the one that didn't see me sitting here and jumped out of his skin," Alan shrugged.
"Gordon," Scott said, looking at his second youngest brother, "You are banned from teaching Alan twisted ways to wake people up."
"Why are you blaming me?" Gordon tried to look innocent, "He came up with that all on his own."
Alan laughed and went to sit next John; leaning into his older brother until John finally put his arm around Alan's shoulders.
Virgil poured two cups of coffee, handing one with cream to Scott, who gratefully took it. "Where's Dad?" Virgil asked sitting on Alan's vacated barstool.
"Sleeping," Scott replied, sitting down himself, opposite Virgil.
Gordon, with his own coffee, sat down next to Scott, but leaned his back against the half wall and faced the sitting area.
John had his head leaned back and was holding his coffee in one hand, while the other gently rubbed Alan's shoulder.
"How's the hand?" Virgil asked after a comfortable silence surrounded the five brothers.
Looking at his hand, Scott rotated it, and shrugged, "Sore, but nothing I can't deal with."
Virgil nodded, "Still," he said turning to the still open med kit, "Take some Advil," he pulled out a single dose of the tablets, "It's for the swelling, not the pain," Virgil explained before Scott could protest.
"Fine," Scott muttered, taking the two pills with a swig of coffee, "Happy?"
"Yes," Virgil smiled, digging in the med kit again. Taking out a stronger pain killer, he stood up and walked towards Alan and John.
Squatting in front of his youngest brother, "Hey, Sprout," Virgil said softly, putting a hand on Alan's knee, "How's the hand?"
Alan shrugged, "Better than before."
Virgil nodded, "Come on, let's take a look," he said offering his hand to Alan.
"Do we have to?" Alan grumbled, taking the offered hand and allowing Virgil to pull him to his feet.
"I just want to check the stitches and give you a pain killer," Virgil soothed, "And then I'll leave it alone until we get home, promise."
Jeff came out of the bedroom stretching, as Virgil shooed Gordon and Scott away from the kitchen. Sitting Alan in Scott's previous seat, Virgil went around the half wall into the kitchen. Alan took the medication with the last of his water.
"Morning, boys," Jeff said to everyone, entering the kitchen to get himself a cup of stiff black coffee.
"Morning, Dad" was the response from five mouths.
"How are you this morning, Alan?"
"Been up twenty minutes," Alan replied, "And I have made coffee, almost given John a heart attack, and am being subjected to another check-up."
"Sounds like the start to a busy day," Jeff smiled, sitting next Alan.
"I hope not," Alan yawned, "It better slow down soon, I haven't been this active for a while."
Jeff nodded as he watched Virgil unwrap the gauze around Alan's palm. "Ouch," he remarked, seeing the red and scabbing cuts, some crossed with black stitches.
"Like I told Virgil," Alan began, "It is better than before." As he thought of what 'before' meant, Alan's eyes clouded over and he frowned.
"Well," Virgil said a little too cheerfully, seeing the look in Alan's eyes, "It does look better. Didn't bleed too much last night and the stitches held."
Jeff put an arm around Alan's shoulders and drew him into a half hug as Virgil rewrapped the hand. "That's good to hear, Virgil," Jeff matched his middle son's tone.
Alan closed his eyes and shook his head, banishing the memories, "Yeah, like I said. Can we eat now?"
"Sure, Alan," Jeff accepted the subject change, "What do you want?"
"Considering you can't cook," Alan said wryly, and looked over his shoulder, "Johnny, can you make pancakes?"
"Only because I have forgiven you," John said raising his head; taking a gulp of coffee he stood up and made his way over to the kitchen, "But I need a sous chef."
"Done!" Alan smiled, hopping off the barstool.
"Alan," Jeff called as he stood up too, "You should know, the lead agent on your case wants to ask you questions. He will be coming sometime in the early afternoon."
Alan paused in taking a griddle out of the cabinet, "Okay," he said slowly, "You're going to be there, right?" He added nervously.
"If you want me to be, yes," Jeff replied.
"Yes, I do," Alan said softly, turning back to helping John.
"Okay," Jeff nodded, "Then I will be." Jeff then went to sit in one of the arms chairs with Scott and Gordon; listening to John and Alan banter over their cooking. Virgil joined them after packing up and closing the med kit.