For the whump writing, I'd like to request Wrong Place, Wrong Time: Panic Attack/Overstimulated/"Get Me Out Of Here" with Jeff, please 👀 (thought I'd throw you a non-brother! Hope that's okay!)
Today was not supposed to turn out like this. Scott rushes down the halls of his company’s Auckland branch, worriedly opening random unlocked doors as he passes them. Desperately calling with for his missing father within each room, his voice can be heard muffled through the walls. It’s only until he makes it to the lounge room, does he stop; as Grandma Tracy is found sitting on a red couch, her gaze set on the television up against the wall.
“Grandma!” He shouts, striding inside and down the room until reaching her proximity. “Have you seen Dad?”
Startled, Grandma stretches for the remote on the ebony coffee table and pauses the hologram. She turns to the grandson with a concerned look. “Well, he hasn’t come by here.” She shrugs. “What’s wrong?”
“He’s disappeared on me,” Scott stresses, “I’ve looked everywhere, Grandma.”
Taking that as a request, Grandma Tracy stands up.
“He was right with me in the board room! We were supposed to be waiting for the meeting, I was giving him a debrief- then, one minute, I had my back turned, and the next, he was gone!” Scott’s words are frantic, in a tone that’s all to recognisable; except usually, this type of reaction is more often seen when one of his brothers have done something concerning.
“Scott, sit down.” She reaches for his shoulders and guides him round to the couch. “Let me find him.”
The CEO’s head snaps up at her with returning wide irises. “But- Grandma-!”
“-Scott.” She stops him. “I know my son better than anyone, I’ll bring him back. You just trust me.”
Upon a moment of sharing eye contact, Scott takes a deep breath, letting his eyes stray away to the floor before spinning back to her. He nods.
“Good.” She returns the head gesture with a matching nod. “How much time do we have?”
“Maybe at least three hours.”
She struts off: Every hallway is full of doors, most of them leading to laboratories, offices, and small storage rooms. Grandma Tracy knows the floor plans of this building like the back of her hand; in fact, she helped her son design it. Which is why she doesn’t bat an eye across any of the doors. Sally knows her son better than that.
All of these rooms are too closed off for a Tracy, he would never hide inside any of them. Not when he had multiple fire escapes situated among every end and corner of the building for every floor. She strides down the hallways, taking note of every man and woman in suits passing by her with respectful smiles.
She takes one more corner and makes it to the dead end. Two doors with a large green exit sign glows above. Her son, is curled up on the floor, his back against the wall. A grey wrinkled suit jacket is splayed out next to him, loosely draped over his shoulders, his elbows tightly gripped with quivering hands that show creases in the folds of his dress shirt. There’s a heavy panting that can be heard even from Sally’s deafening ears, as well as a quiet mutter under the man’s breath.
“Jeff, dear…” She approaches. “Are you alright?”
Slowly, the slicked-back greyed hair raises, revealing his sullen expression; sodden, dull eyes trailing their way eventually to hers. He shakes his head solemnly.
She relaxes from this. Mind if I sit with you?” Except doesn’t wait for an answer as she joins him on the floor. Making sure to not nudge too close so as not to touch her son while in this panicked state.
Distraught from a faint nausea, he droops his face into his arms. Now being closer to his proximity, she can hear Scott’s name repeatedly being muttered.
Sally can’t blame her son; with having spent so many years stranded in isolation, there’s only so much that anyone can expect from him. Jeff has been showing signs of spiralling since he had first gotten to the airport yesterday. She had been eyeing the skin surrounding his fingernails for so long, this was bound to happen at some point.
Upon a minute of silence, her son starts with a mighty swallow before clearing his throat to say in a stutter, “I- Ma… I’m so sorry…”
In mental search for an answer, he shrugs his shoulders, his eyes blinking rapidly.
“Jeff, honey…” She leans to his side. Unveiling all that has happened today: From the silently following Scott around without being able to provide input, to the overwhelming number of unfamiliar faces today. There had been more strangers than there were familiar board members.
It was obvious to Sally that her well achieved son was hoping to not disappoint his own first born. Hoping that his own past experiences could come to a sort of use at the board meeting. Except, he wasn’t expecting this much change in the company. He wasn’t expecting the strangers, nor the change in goals.
He wasn’t expecting to disappoint his first born son.
She frowns. Scott could never be disappointed. Not from Dad. There was a bond there, so strong, it has withstood almost a decade worth of separation. “You know, your son didn’t go out of his way to travel to the very edge of the universe just to get your opinion on how he’s been doing things.” She tries to reassure. “He just wants you.”
Stunned, Jeff stares at her, he shivers. “He- He’s come so far…” His husky, voice stammers.
She raises her arm closest to him and snakes it over his shoulders. “I know, I know, Jeff. You should be proud of him.”
He gasps from the sobs clogging his throat, raising his hand to wipes some tears while nodding, then breathing in before letting the air in his lungs vent out. “I- I panicked.” There’s a crack in his tone as he explains himself.
“That’s to be expected. It’s been a few years since you’ve had this sort of stimulation, after all.”
“Scott’s gonna be worried…”
“He’ll understand.” If anything, the young man would be more than just understanding. There are actions that his dad has taken in the past to revive his son from some dark horrors. Scott would be more than pleased to ever return such a favour.
Not that he needs to. Jeff Tracy is his father. The man would have moved mountains for Scott if asked to.
“I…” He inhales sharply. “I look like a mess…”
“I’m sure there’s a steamer somewhere in the waiting rooms that we can use to fix that.”
He turns to her again, glassy eyes blinking at his mother with a trembling smile. A weight— that he didn’t know existed— lifts from his shoulders; he breathes in heavily, as if it was the first time he’s done that all week. She faintly smiles back reassuringly, taking it as a signal to rise onto her feet; which, as soon as she has, she gestures with her hand to help him upright next. Jeff accepts the offer and lets her aide him into a stand.
“Come on, we’ve got almost an hour before Scott gets worried.”
Jeff, taking a moment to exhale, nods. Before faintly whispering to her, “okay, Ma…”
