Have some sad Tracys.
Alan was crouching beside his brother's bed with his head in his hands, trying to ignore the fear in his heart as he listened to the slow and raspy rhythm of Gordon's staggered breathing through the tubes supporting him.
It was still hard for him to comprehend the fact Gordon was in a coma. An actual coma. He'd seen his brother sleeping many times before, but this- this was different.
It was worse.
The door behind him opened with a squeak. Alan didn't even have to look up to know the person who'd entered was Scott, who was walking across the room devoid of any of his usual cheeriness. His older brother was holding a small white carrier bag full to the brim with goodies such as candy, chips, and cookies. Scott carried the bag over to his brother and dumped it on the round table next to Gordon's bed.
"They had a deal on so I bought a bunch of random stuff included in it."
"Sure they did." Alan couldn't help but smile at his brother's gluttony and the fact he'd tried to justify buying lots of snacks. He also knew Scott would be able to demolish the majority of treats he'd bought in several minutes at most and that thought itself was amusing to him.
Alan grabbed the pack of Twinkies which had spilled from the bag and ripped open the box, pulling one out to eat after unwrapping it. He took a small bite and found the taste bland. After a few more bites he found he didn't really want to continue eating it.
"Come on Alan." Scott encouraged. "You've got to get your energy back up, kid."
"I don't feel like it." Alan whined, feeling as if he were five years old again. He shot a plaintive look over his unconscious brother and turned to Scott. "I just want him to wake up. The thought of him not- …is making me sick."
Scott held a hand on his brother's shoulder. "I do too, fella, but at the moment-"
"…things aren't looking so good." Alan finished with a sigh, remembering what the doctors had told them earlier. He glanced over at Gordon's top half and winced at the rough and jagged stitches keeping his brother's chest and right shoulder together.
During the impact of the crash, the aquanaut had collided with god knows what - flying debris? The perspex screen? But whatever it had been, it had sliced him open. Practically ripped him apart. Alan didn't know how he'd survived that. It had been a miracle in itself, but Alan couldn't even bear thinking about the image. He'd seen plenty of documentaries about car and plane crashes to hazard a rough idea of what the scene would've looked like. The hydrofoil would've been in bits, singed black by the mighty explosion. The sea would've been bubbling red, mixed in with the salty seafoam. Blood would have been EVERYWHERE.
Alan shuddered. The doctors had done well to suture his brother back together to prevent further blood loss but it was going to leave Gordon with one hell of a scar.
If only he'd wake up to tell the tale.
"We've just got to stay positive." Scott instructed, taking command.
"How can I, Scott? He's dying!"
"He's not dying!" Scott snapped back, dropping the bag of chips he was snacking on. "He's alive and breathing!"
"But he's not well though, is he?" Alan stood up next to the bed in a defensive manner.
"He's stable though, and that's all that matters right now!"
"Scott, I can't live in a world without him! I don't know what I'll do!"
"Calm down." Scott's steady voice brought Alan back down to reality. He closed the gap between them and hugged his younger brother tightly. "Just calm down."
Alan tried fighting against the tears threatening to spill but it was no good. He cracked and hid his face in his brother's chest, silently crying for Gordon's sake.
"I can't promise everything is going to be alright because we don't know that yet. We just have to take this thing day by day. Being here to support him is all we can do right now. Being here for him is all that matters right now."
Alan sniffled and nodded his head.