Liseylou

Chapter 4 | 5 | AO3

With thanks to @mariashades for the read-through

~

It didn’t take Scott long to come around but he drifted in and out for a few hours until the anaesthetic fully wore off.

Virgil kept Gordon and Alan under control and ensured that no blackmail pictures or videos were taken. John hooked their equipment up to the monitors and liaised with Kayo as she finished securing the hospital and spoke firstly with Penny and Parker and then with Colonel Casey to inform the GDF what had happened. She then left for the jungle and the mine to meet iR’s London Agent and see if there was anything that could lead them to her uncle.

Once Scott was awake the doctor came and filled him in on his prognosis and as expected he was very disappointed not to be discharged immediately. And despite potentially only being kept in for a few hours the waiting still chafed.

He couldn’t fail to notice Virgil and his Grandma keeping a close eye on him but he ignored it in favour of being entertained by the antics of his youngest two brothers as they tried their hardest to distract him.

They passed the two-hour mark and all was going well. Or so they thought…

The next installment has arrived... sorry, but Scott goes through the wringer with this chapter, and Virgil's pretty close behind him!

Warnings for this chapter: it's a debrief, there's no gory details, but it's pretty intense for mental anguish and breakdown; some remarks about sexual assault and some swearing. Nothing explicit, but you have been warned! Earlier chapters may be found on AO3 here.

Chapter 9 - Debrief

Jeff stood frozen as he took in the sight of his eldest son, cowering in the corner, hands and arms protecting his head as he sobbed and begged.

“P – please don’t… dad… please…”

Don’t what? Jeff thought frowning as he glanced at his mother.  He shrugged his shoulders in confusion.  “I don’t understand,” he whispered to her.  He went to move round the bed to go to his son, but Sally stopped him.

“Give him a minute, Jeff.  Let’s see if he comes out of it on his own.”

“But he’s in distress about something I’ve done.  What have I done?”  He saw the expression on his mother’s face change to one of disbelief.  “What?” he demanded.

She ignored him and concentrated on her grandson who was obviously in great distress, but she had to take her time and not rush in.  She was hoping that Scott would freely divulge the issue.

Scott continued to mumble to himself.  “I – I’m sorry, dad… I’m sor – ry that… that I’m a … a disappointment… I try… try so hard… but it’s… it’s…” his breathing became laboured as he became even more distressed.

Sally glanced at her son and saw his eyes widen.  The muscle in his jaw began to twitch and she wondered—no, hoped—that Jeff had had a lightbulb moment regarding his eldest son.

Jeff moved swiftly round the bed to kneel next to his sobbing son.  “Scotty, son… it’s okay, I know it’s hard,” he began.

Sally’s shoulders drooped in dismay.  The penny hadn’t dropped at all.  She felt like pulling her hair out, or cuffing her son round the head to knock some sense into him, but her immediate concern was for her grandson.  It was clear from what he was sort of saying that he felt he was a disappointment to his father, that he was never good enough and that was so far from the truth.  Scott had beaten all his dad’s records in the Air Force.  That alone should have been enough to  make his father proud of him, let alone reaching the rank of Captain by the age of 22, two years ahead of his father.

“He can’t do the debrief tomorrow,” Jeff muttered and Sally was inclined to agree, although if Scott was forced, it could be the step to breaking him, so he could be rebuilt or, it could all go horribly wrong and… she didn’t want to go down that path at all.  At the end of the day, Scott was incredibly strong mentally, even if he didn’t feel it at this precise moment, and he was recovering at least physically.  If they could get him over this next hurdle without too much further damage, he could start to heal mentally as well, and be more prepared for the war crimes trial that was currently being put together.  She had no doubt he would be called upon to give further evidence.

“Jeff, step away, let me near him,” Sally ordered, and her stare as her son looked up at her was enough to make him do as he was told.  She took his place, knees complaining slightly as she got down on the floor next to her grandson and began to talk calmly and quietly, and gently laid a hand  on his leg.  “Hey, Scotty.  It’s grandma.  I’m here, kiddo; you’re safe in the hospital…”  She kept talking to him, patting his leg gently.

It took several minutes, then his hold on his head began to relax slightly. “G’ma?” he queried in a whisper.

“Yes Scotty.  It’s me.  I’m right here with you.  Come on, kiddo, let me give you a proper hug, eh?”

More minutes passed, then Scott gradually began to uncurl his lanky form and moved to melt against his grandmother, folding into her as her hug tightened around him.

“There you go.  That’s much better now, isn’t it?  Your safe with me, Scotty.”

“Yeah, G’ma.  Safe.”

Jeff looked on from a little distance away, unsure what to think about the situation.  Sure, he’d crashed on the island when he’d been in the Air Force; busted his leg pretty good too.  He’d also had his SERE’s training, but he’d never had to put it to the test like his son had, so that was something else Scott had over him.  He became lost in his own thoughts for a moment, until Scott’s next words brought him back to reality with a bump.

“G’ma?”

“Yes, Scotty?”

“D’you think… dad… dad will ever be… will I ever be… be good enough?”

Sally glanced up sharply at Jeff and raised a questioning eyebrow, as if to say, well, will he? She returned her attention to her grandson.  “Oh Scotty, you are more than good enough.  Never doubt that my boy.  I’m so very proud of you.  Of the man you have become, of your achievements.  I’m fit to burst with pride.”

“He… he’s not…”  Fresh tears started.

Jeff went to protest, but Sally silenced him with another look.  Scott was upset and disorientated.  Jeff’s words wouldn’t mean anything to him in his current mental state.  They needed to be said when Scott was calm, relaxed and more cognisant.

“Oh Scotty, I know he’s never said it, but I’m sure he is very proud of you.”

She wasn’t sure if her words had gotten through to him or not, but she realised he was becoming very heavy.

“Scotty?”

“Tired,” he came back with.

She waited a few more minutes until Scott had totally relaxed, then indicated for Jeff to come and lift Scott back onto his bed, which he did; moving slowly and carefully so as not to wake him.

“What did he mean, I’m not?  Not what?”

“Oh Jeff, for a smart man, you can be incredibly stupid!” Sally hissed.  “All Scott ever wanted from you, was to obtain your approval and hear that you’re proud of him, and you’ve never done either of those things.  All you’ve done is push him harder and harder.  Nothing he does is good enough for you.”

“That’s not true!” Jeff objected.  “I am proud of him; he has my approval—”

“And when did you actually tell him this?” she interrupted.

Jeff opened his mouth, and it hung open as he searched his brain for an answer and found he didn’t have one.  “He’s my first born, he has to be tough if he’s going to take over from me eventually,” he finally answered.  “I have to prepare him for every eventuality.  It’s a brutal world out there.”

“You think he doesn’t know that?” Sally snapped back.  “Look at him, Jeff!  Look at your son and what he’s been through, what he’s suffered!  Right now, he needs his father to love him, to put his mind at ease, that he’s not a disappointment to him.”

“He’s not a disappointment!”

“Then tell him that!  He’s hurting.  You’re hurting him, son.  Don’t you think he’s been hurt enough?”

Jeff bristled with the pain that everything his mother had said to him was true.  “I – I…” he began, then abruptly turned on a heel and walked out.  Sally’s shoulders slumped.  It was going to be a long night.

o0o

Virgil was livid with the lid off when he found out about the debrief.  “No!  No they can’t!” he raged at his dad the following morning.  “He’s not ready for it!”

“Will he ever be ready?” Jeff countered.  “Perhaps it would be for the better if we get it over and done with, then we can really concentrate on helping Scott get well.  Remember, if the war crimes trial takes place, he could well be required to give evidence there and that will be in front of a larger number of people.  We can help prepare him for that.”

Virgil steamed silently.  He saw the point, but having seen the state Scott had gotten into at the interview, he was absolutely dreading the debriefing.  “I want to be there with him,” he finally said.

“Virgil, it’s a military debrief, they may not let you.”

“Well, they can’t court martial me for trying to be there!  What time is it due to start?”

“10:00 am.”

“That’s in 90 minutes time!  Who’s with him at the moment?  Grandma?”

“Yes.”

“Right, let’s get going!”

“Virgil… breakfast?”

“I’ll grab something on the way!”

When they got to Scott’s room, Sally was standing outside and told them Scott was up and now she was going back to the room for some decent sleep.  He’d had a reasonable night—not perfect—but he had managed to get about 4 hours sleep.  When they went in, they found him dressed in an Air Force t-shirt and fatigues and sitting at the small table in the room.  Sally had given him a shave and combed his rather unruly hair into some semblance of order, but the front was long enough to keep flopping over into his right eye.  He looked a little more like his old self, but the hollow gauntness of his face and the fact the t-shirt swamped him slightly indicated he was far from how he should look.

“Scotty,” Virgil breathed, remembering to approach him slowly.  “Hey bro, beginning to look pretty good,” he enthused.  “May I?”  He indicated he wanted to give him a hug.  Scott nodded.

“Hey Virg,” Scott replied quietly as his younger brother enfolded him carefully in his arms.  “Thanks for coming.”  There was a slight waver in his voice, and Virgil knew immediately he was feeling apprehensive about the forthcoming meeting.

“I’ll see you through this, Scotty.  I swear.  You and me together, bro.”  He continued to hug him until there was a knock on the door.  It was 9:45 am.

“Come in,” Jeff said and the door opened to admit Alistair Lowe; Scott’s therapist.

He introduced himself to the rest of the family, then asked Scott for permission to approach and sit down, which the Air Force captain nodded to.

“Captain Tracy, I’m here to ensure your welfare during this debriefing.  If at any time you need it to stop, just say.  I have the authority to make that happen, okay?  No one is here to make a judgement; it is purely a fact finding debrief of your side of the mission and… what happened whilst you were held captive in—”

“Don’t say the word!” Virgill snapped, laying a soothing hand on Scott’s knee.

“Very well.  I will brief Colonel Henderson and Major Clarke to that effect.  Water will be arriving shortly.  Is there anything else you need?”

“I – I want my brother to stay.”

“This is a military matter—”

“I stay, or the debrief doesn’t happen,” Virgil interrupted.  He stood up at that point, in a show of strength, his broad frame taking on a somewhat threatening stature.  “You say you are here to ensure my brother’s welfare?  Well, part of his welfare is that I stay.”

“Virgil,” Jeff began.

“No dad.  Scott isn’t well enough for this debrief, but they are insisting, so they will agree to this, or it’s not happening.  And that’s final.”

Scott grasped his brother’s hand, feeling a little choked at how his brother was standing up for him, in a complete role reversal, when Scott had stood up to bullies who had been giving his little brother a hard time at school.  It was a silent ‘thank you,’ from him.

Lowe finally nodded.

There was another knock at the door.  It was a member of the catering staff with a large jug of water and some glasses, which she placed on the table.  Some more chairs arrived and then, just before 10:00, Scott’s CO and the JAG team arrived.

Captain Tracy struggled to his feet to salute them.  Virgil steadied him as he wavered slightly but still managed to see the shock on Henderson’s face at his brother’s appearance before he masked it.

The officers all returned the salute, then Henderson spoke up.  “At ease, Tracy.  Sit down before you fall down.”  He gave a small smile.  “Good to see you, son.”  He held out his hand which Scott shook before partially collapsing back onto his chair.  Henderson looked at all those present.  “Colonel Tracy,” he said, shaking Jeff’s hand.  “You’re looking well.”

“Thank you, and so are you,” Jeff responded.

“And who are you, young man?”

“Virgil Tracy, one of Scott’s younger brothers.”

Henderson immediately picked up on the lack of ‘Sir’ following his reply.

“You’re not military, are you?”

“No Colonel, I’m not, but I’m not leaving my brother’s side.  I can keep my mouth shut.”

Henderson noted the familiar look of fire in the eyes of the young man.  With that expression, there was no doubting the two men were related and very much Jefferson Tracy’s sons.

“Very well.  I believe you already know Major Clarke and Lt Pearson?  Lt Lowe has already introduced himself.  Shall we get this show on the road so we can let Captain Tracy rest and recover?”

Everyone took a seat, apart from Jeff, who moved back to perch on the bed.  Virgil glanced at him, then at Scott, who stiffened, then sighed and shrugged slightly.  He was a disappointment to his father, he knew that, so he might as well let him hear the whole sorry story so he would know just how big a disappointment he was.

Lt Pearson was recording the proceedings once again.

The debrief was called to order, a role call was done, then Henderson spoke.  “Captain Tracy, we have the debrief from the rest of your squadron, but we need to hear your side of things.  I know it was a few months ago, but see if you can remember as much as you can about the mission.  Now, the drop was successful and you were on your way back to friendly airspace.”

Scott took a sip of water before starting to talk.  No one said anything about noticing that his hand was shaking slightly.

“Yes sir.  We were about 100 miles from friendly air space, which equated to around 11 minutes at the speed of the transport.  I remember asking my squadron to keep their eyes peeled, and asked if Rescue 1—the transport plane—could get any more speed out of his crate and they agreed to redline their engines for that time.

“I think a couple of minutes passed, then my navigator reported bandits approaching from the east at 30,000 feet, Mach er… 1.7 and I ordered the squadron to prepare to engage, but no firing until the enemy did.  I told Rescue 1 to keep heading for the border and that we’d do our best to keep the fighters away from them.”

“Can you remember how many enemy fighters, Captain?” Henderson asked.

Scott paused to take another sip of water.

“It was 24, sir.  We shadowed them and then I think we were about five minutes from the border when they broke formation and attacked and fired on us.  So I ordered my squad to break, gain height and keep them off the transport and engage.  I shot one down, then Hawk got two on his tail as did I, so we played chicken.  That got rid of another four.  The rest of the squad were engaging and managed some hits.  My squad had a couple of hits, but they were able to limp back home.  I remember glancing at my watch and saw we were two minutes out.  Vulture had 3 fighters on his tail, I got one and damaged another, and by then Rescue 1 reached friendly air space, so I told my squad to run for home…”  He paused and swallowed, took a deep breath and carried on.  “That was when my plane was hit.  Raven screamed; said he was bleeding pretty badly and that he… he couldn’t feel his legs.”

Beside him, Virgil placed a hand on his thigh for support.

“My plane started spluttering, but I kept heading for the border, and then the engine gave out.  My wingman told me he was leading the squad back to assist, but I ordered them to stay away.  Hawk said I was breaking up and carried on coming.  I was losing height and speed fast and knew we had to bail out.  I ordered my navigator to blow the canopy, but then he told me there was a town ahead and if we did, we’d hit it and kill civilians, so I told him to bail out and I’d make sure the plane missed the town, only his canopy release failed.  I let Hawk know and the squad stayed with me as long as possible but their fuel was running out so I told them to go.  Hawk said he’d be back as soon as he refuelled.”

Scott stopped for a number of seconds.

“Please continue, Captain, you’re doing fine,” Henderson encouraged.

Scott swallowed and then took a couple more sips of water.  His throat was suddenly becoming very dry.

“I – I spied a wood in the distance and hoped to get as close as possible so we could attempt to hide in there, but we crashed about a mile short of it which I think put us 5 miles from the border.  I think I was knocked unconscious, but I’m not sure how long for.  All I knew was we had to get out and try and make a run for it, as there’d be people from the town coming to investigate.  I blew my canopy, and then wrestled Raven’s.  He was out cold, so I dragged him from the plane, heaved him over my shoulder and started walking.  I didn’t get very far before a vehicle arrived.  I was told to halt or they’d fire, but I kept going and… and they shot me in the leg and we went down.  I got to my knees, and was kicked in the side.

“Raven was coming round and moaning in pain.  I tried to reach for him, but was dragged some distance away.  An officer grasped my chin and welcomed me to… to his country and asked me if they should shoot me as a spy.  I guess I smart mouthed him by saying he couldn’t do that because I was in uniform, and got a rifle butt in my gut. Two guards dragged me to my feet and asked if Raven was my navigator.  I asked them to help him as per the Geneva Convention and received another blow in the gut.  Another couple of guards dragged him to his feet, and he was screaming in agony.  I – I tried to reach him but… the Captain of the guard took out his sidearm and… and…” Scott gave a choked half cry, half sob.

“Captain Tracy, are you all right?” Lowe asked him, as he watched Scott’s breathing become ragged.  He looked at Henderson and the JAG team.  “Give him a minute,” he said.

They waited patiently for Scott to continue.

“They… they shot him in the head,” he finally managed to get out.  “They… they knocked me out.  I don’t know what… what happened to Raven.  I woke up in a small dark cell, I think it was two days later after the guards beat the living daylights out of me… I… everything hurt.”

Scott went silent.  Virgil reached for his hand under the table and squeezed it firmly.

It was all quiet for a couple of minutes before Henderson spoke up again.  “Thank you, Captain Tracy.  Your account matches that given by your squadron, and thank you for filling in the gaps I… I know it must have been exceedingly painful to recount that final part.  Let’s take a five minute break, then we’ll proceed with the details of the internment in the camp.”

Virgil placed his other hand on Scott’s back and began to gently rub circles there.  “You’re doing okay,” he whispered to him.  “I’m right here, Scotty, okay?  Lean on me, take my strength.”  He gave Scott’s hand another squeeze and was rewarded by the slightest of nods.  “Get some more water down you.”  Virgil let go of his hand temporarily whilst he refilled the glass and put it closer to his brother, then held his hand again.

In the end they stretched the break to ten minutes, but it still went far too quickly for Scott’s liking.  Major Clarke cleared his throat.

“Captain Tracy, you kindly identified some prisoners for me the other day, and confirmed that it was Colonel Mendelski in charge of the camp you were interned in.”  He paused, and Virgil couldn’t help himself.

“Have you got the bastard in custody?” he asked.

Clarke jumped at the sudden outburst, but recovered and shook his head.  “No.  Unfortunately Colonel Mendelski is still at large and appears to have gone to ground.  Spectrum are continuing their search for him.”

Virgil gave a snort of disgust, fidgeted, then settled down again, knowing that he now had to main control of his emotions for his brother’s sake, because this was going to be dark and downright ugly.

“Captain Tracy, would you tell us what food and water was like, please,” Clarke began, deciding it would be safer to start on a subject that wouldn’t inflict to much suffering on the young captain.

“I – I didn’t get anything for the first two days,” Scott replied quietly.

“Nothing at all?”

“Nothing.”

“When did you get your first nourishment?”

Scott managed a snort at that sentence.  “If you can call it that,” he replied in disdain.  “They must have had someone spying on me, or listening out, because when I regained consciousness, they dragged me out of my cell into a really bright room.  I was sat in a chair and handcuffed to it.”  He paused and swallowed.  “That’s… that’s when I first met… him.”

“Him?  As in Mendelski?”

Scott nodded, then remembered that he had to speak for the record.  “Yes sir.”

“What and you tell us about him.  Anything you can remember that may help us find him.  How tall he is; his mannerisms, anything at all.”

“He’s about six two; broad shouldered, that photo was pretty accurate and he’s… and he’s a sick perverted bastard!”  He was aware of Virgil’s hand tightening on his and was thankful for it.

“What can you remember of the conversation?”

Scott winced at the memory.  “Er…” He’d never forget it.  He swallowed.  “He was looking forward to having a ‘little chat’ as he put it and then asked if I’d heard of him.  I had, but I decided to say I hadn’t, and for a second I thought he was going to use his swagger stick on me, but he didn’t… at least not at that point.  He had… he had a complete file on me.  Whose son I was, my medals… stuff he shouldn’t have known.”  He paused and swallowed, shut his eyes for a couple of seconds, took yet another sip of water as if to gather his courage and carried on.  “Then… then he told me I was handsome and where I got my looks from.”  He glanced briefly at his father then picked a spot on the small table to stare at.  “Then he… he grasped my chin and forced me to look up at him and told me it would be a pity to mar such beauty.”

Beside him, he felt Virgil stiffen and this time it was he who squeezed his younger brother’s hand to keep him calm.

“I jerked my head back as he attempted to run a finger down my cheek, then he shoved his swagger stick hard under my chin to force my head back further and said he could be kind and considerate, then called me Scott as we were going to become very good friends.  The swagger stick wandered downwards towards my groin.”  He stopped and shuddered at the memory.  “I fell back on my SERE training with name, rank and service number and he rammed that swagger stick into my midriff and winded me and he said he enjoyed a challenge but would be generous as it was our first meeting and I should think about my position.  He even mentioned about asking dad if he would be willing to pay for my freedom.”

He sensed rather than saw his father stiffen and straighten up at that remark.

“He ordered me to be seen by the doctor, so they took me to their infirmary.  I had to strip, shower and then the doctor fixed me up, gave me some antibiotics.  He came in before I had a chance to get dressed and was eyeing me all the time whilst I got back into my flight suit and made some uncomfortable remarks.”  Colour flooded his pale skin as he remembered and thankfully, Clarke didn’t ask about them.  The major had taken one look at Scott’s heightened colour and drew his own conclusions.  He had heard about Mendelski’s preference for beautiful men from other prisoners.

“Once I was dressed, they took me back to my cell.  There was watery slop of a stew and a cup of water waiting for me.”

“How often did they feed you?”

“Once a day, if I was lucky.  Some days, after an interrogation had finished, I… I couldn’t move to reach it; I was either in too much pain or too weak from what they’d subjected me to.”

“What about hygiene?” Clarke asked.

“A damp, dirty mattress to sleep on and a bucket in the corner.”

“Nothing else?  No blankets?  No washing facilities?”

“No.  Although every now and again when I was strung up naked, they’d turn a hose on me and blast me with freezing water and leave me to dry if I started bleeding too much.”

“Captain, I’d now like you to describe what was done to you,” Clarke said softly.  “Are you able to do that?”  He gave the airman a look of compassion, but not pity as Scott winced, did nothing for a number of seconds, then gave a jerky nod.

“I – I c – can do that, but it’s going to be all mixed up.  They… they came for me at all times of the day and night.  I quickly lost track of time; never saw daylight. Stuff might not be in the right order because they drugged me and beat me.  Stripped me, suspended me from a hook so my toes could hardly touch the floor… used a cattle prod on me, hit me with sticks, c – cut me, punched me, broke my bones, strangled me… tied… tied me to… to a table, gagged me, put a cloth bag over my head and waterboarded me, or they’d hold my head down in a tub of water and let me almost drown… they liked that one… to hear me coughing and trying to expel the water before putting me under again and again.  They liked to be… inventive… I never knew what they were going to do to me next.”

Scott was breathing heavily.  On his other side, Lowe ran a scanner over him, then whispered quietly to him.  A muscle in Scott’s jaw twitched and he shook his head, keeping his eyes averted from everyone.

“Lieutenant?” Clarke asked the therapist.

“I was asking the Captain if he wanted another break, sir.  I’ve checked his vitals; his heartrate is highly elevated and oxygen sat is lower than I’d like, but he’s insisting on carrying on.”

“Very well.  But Captain, you must tell us if you need a rest, all right?”

Scott managed a feeble nod.

“What information were they after?”

“At first it was the normal stuff… strength of foreign forces, how we operated, what spies were in the country, our plans to invade B – B – their country.”

“Can you explain what you mean by ‘at first?’”

“Those questions went on… I don’t know how long.  The pain got so bad, I told them a pack of lies to get some relief… but that… that backfired on me and…” he tried to suppress a sob at the memory. “They beat me so badly I… I thought I was going to die… I… I even wished I had.  Then, then they gagged me and waterboarded me and somehow still expected me to give them information, but I couldn’t.  The gag prevented me from saying anything.  They stopped asking questions towards the end; just carried on torturing me because they could.  I remember… a guard… whispering… if I let him ram his cock up my sweet ass it would all stop.”

“When you say ‘him,’ you’re referring to Mendelski?”

Scott answering nod was somewhat jerky.

“But you didn’t.”

“N – no… but I… I…”

The scanner emitted an alarm and flashed red.  Lowe placed a hand on Scott’s arm.  “Steady, Captain.  It’s all right.  We can stop.  No one wants to distress you too much.”

Scott shook his head.  “I – I considered it for… for about a millisecond and realised he’d throw it back in my face.  That bastard wanted me to crawl to him and offer myself to him.  He even told me he wouldn’t hurt me anymore because there were plenty of other soldiers they could work on.  I – I couldn’t let that happen.”

“And where was Mendelski whilst you were being interrogated?”

“A lot of the time he was there, watching, a smile on his face.”  Scott’s face contorted at the memory.  He shuddered as he remembered the colonel ogling his naked body.

“I’m sorry Captain, I have to ask you this… was watching all he did?”

Scott hunched up at that question.  “You know what he did!” he almost screamed back.  “But… but if you want the sordid details, he – he ran his hands over my body, touched me intimately, trying to get… get my body to… to respond to… to him; licked me, whispered obscenities in my ear, describing what he’d like to do to me and attempted to kiss me whilst the guards looked on, grinning and laughing!  I fought… I fought so hard, but I couldn’t… couldn’t stop… stop him!”

With surprising speed and agility, Scott threw himself from his chair and into a corner curling up into a ball, rocking, trying not to break down totally.  Lowe immediately stood up.

“Enough!” he said to Clarke.  “We’ll take a 30 minute break!”

Lowe stopped Virgil from rushing to his brother.

“Slowly!” he ordered.  “He’s not in a good place right now.  It’s good it’s coming out, but we have to move slowly.  He needs you.  Talk to him softly and approach slowly.  I think he’ll prefer to have you close rather than me.”

Virgil managed to get a grip on his own emotions and nodded slowly.  The lullaby left his lips softly, but the notes wavered slightly.

Henderson looked round and saw the pained expression on Jeff’s face knowing it probably matched his own.  Captain Tracy had been missing for 13 weeks; been at the mercy of that pervert for all that time; day in day out; never knowing what was going to happen to him next.  He was his best pilot and he hoped the young man he had grown to admire and tried to protect wasn’t broken beyond the ability for the professionals and his own family to fix.  The Colonel felt sick to his stomach after hearing his testimony and it wasn’t over yet.  When this debrief was finished, he was going to get drunk to try and wash away the memories of what Scott had stated; of the pain he had endured.

Jeff desperately wanted to go to his son; wrap him in cotton wool and whisk him away to the island; to safety.  He knew his son had been assaulted, but he hadn’t realised to what extent; and his one small comfort was that he hadn’t been raped.

It took Virgil 17 minutes before he was able to wrap his brother in a much needed hug.  Henderson and Pearson had left the room for some fresh air; Clarke went to Jeff and spoke to him.

“I am truly sorry we are having to put Scott through this interview,” he began.  “Your son is a remarkable young man.  I know he may not feel that way, but the information he has provided has been of more use than many other interviews I have carried out recently.  It will go a long way to getting convictions against those who have committed these crimes and serve the justice deserved.  Perhaps it will even help to prevent this kind of thing happening in the future.”

“All my son wanted to do was help people.  Flying escort to the relief aid was his best way of doing this and for what?  To be shot down, to be tortured by those he was trying to help.”  Jeff stopped and took a couple of deep breaths.  “I’m sorry if I sound bitter… but I am.  There isn’t an ounce of malice or arrogance in that boy’s body.  He didn’t deserve what happened to him; none of those prisoners did.”

“Then let us hope and pray that his testimony will go towards stopping it happening again in the future.”

In the end, they broke for over an hour, getting some lunch, although Scott refused to eat anything despite Virgil’s best attempts to get him to have even a bite of a sandwich.  The only thing he did manage was to get Scott back on his chair.

Major Clarke approached him and spoke softly.  “Captain, you have done extremely well, and on behalf of everyone present I thank you.  We are almost finished here.  Do you think you will be able to continue today?”

Scott had finally stopped trembling, but he was extremely embarrassed about his conduct during the interview.

“May I call you Scott?” Clarke asked, and gave a gentle smile as the Captain nodded.  “Scott, you have conducted yourself with honour.  I am truly sorry I had to ask some of those most probing questions, but they are required, if we are to bring justice for prisoners like yourself.  You have absolutely no reason to be embarrassed about anything that has gone on here today, do you understand me?  You survived in the most dire of circumstances for which your family is eternally grateful.  Now, will it be all right if we begin in five minutes?”

Scott nodded again, but still said nothing.  Clarke thanked him and returned to his seat.  Virgil and Lowe returned to Scott’s side; the former giving him a hug and whispering in his ear that he was so proud of him for being able to divulge the information.

A couple of minutes later Henderson, Pearson and Jeff reappeared and took their places.

“Note, we are reconvening at 15:00.  Captain Tracy, when I originally showed you the photographs of the… camp officers, you pointed to one and said he was innocent.  Please will you expand on that answer.”

“I – I never knew his name,” Scott almost whispered.  “But if he was one of the guards to escort me back to my cell, he never pushed me through the door; he always led me in and if I was in a really bad shape, he’d make sure he put me on the mattress, and that the food and water were in reach.  The final time I saw him, he apologised and said not everyone was in favour of the war; that he wasn’t a bad man, but that he had to try and protect his family.  He hoped that I would remember that not everyone had treated me harshly.  I don’t know if he was like this with everyone, but he was with me.  I hope the other guards didn’t treat him badly because of the attitude he displayed towards me.  I ask that he does not stand trial.”

“That will be so noted,” Clarke said.  “Now, I have your medical record as part of the evidence.  I am not going to read the list of injuries out, but is it true to say that towards the end you were extremely ill—dying in fact?”

Scott again took a deep breath.  “I – I don’t know how many weeks passed before I…” he paused, uncertain.  Virgil squeezed his hand once again and it gave him the courage to continue to say what he had to.  “Before they… they broke me and I gave up.  Apart from the physical torture, they had also been mentally abusing me, telling me I was a disappointment to the Air Force, to my family; that no one would come for me, that they would break me and I would die here, alone and be forgotten.  I ignored it at first… when I still had fight left in me, but after I don’t know how long, I guess I… I started to believe them and I… I gave up, resigned to the fact that I was going to die.”  Those present almost didn’t hear his last few words he had spoken them so quietly.  Next to him, he felt Virgil stiffen and attempt to stifle a sob.  He turned to him.  “I – I’m sorry, Virgil… but I’d… I’d reached rock bottom.  Apart from the physical injuries, I knew I was really ill, which I now know was the double pneumonia starting.  Breathing was becoming increasingly difficult, and I think I finally succumbed and fell into a coma.”  He stopped and swallowed, then with a shaky hand took another few sips of water.

“I somehow was aware that he visited me, but I can’t remember what he said; I was burning up by then, but I remember opening my eyes and seeing him pointing a gun at my head, and I asked forgiveness from my family, and for them not to forget me.  He was going to shoot me, but I think he misunderstood my final word.  I uttered ‘please,’ but I wasn’t pleading for him to put me out of my misery, I was asking my family not to forget me.

“He did fire his weapon, I remember it making me jump, but he didn’t fire it at me.  He must have left then, and I don’t remember anything else after that point until I woke up here.”

He turned to his brother and threw his arms around him, and they sobbed in one another’s arms as Scott kept repeating, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“You – you have nothing to apologise for, Scotty.  I’m sorry we didn’t find you sooner.  We let you down, I’m sorry!”

“It’s not your fault Virgil.  Please don’t blame yourself.”

Clarke cleared his throat.  “Captain Tracy, thank you for your testimony.  I have one final question for you.  How are you feeling now?”

Scott released his brother and turned in his chair to face the JAG officer.  “I’m healing slowly.  I – I admit I was shocked when I saw myself in a mirror, I – I didn’t recognise myself… and the scars…” his voice trailed off.

“And mentally?”

The pilot flinched violently.  “I’m fine.”

His father and Virgil also flinched violently at that response.  The standard Scott Tracy answer; a lie most of the time.  He could be bleeding out and he’d say he was fine so as not to worry them.

“Captain, we both know… as do the rest of your family, going by their reaction to your reply, that that isn’t the truth, is it?”

The expression in his eyes gave him away.  He’d been well and truly caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“Lt Lowe, how have your sessions with Captain Tracy gone so far?”

“They haven’t, Major.  Captain Tracy has refused to talk about his experience.  This is the first time he has spoken… openly about it, which is a good thing, but…”

“But?” Clarke prompted.

“I know every case has to be assessed individually, but going from my experience with other recovered prisoners, I would say there will be feelings of self-loathing, shame, failure, doubt that he will recover…”  There was a long pause.  “There is even the chance he considers suicide so that he can be at peace.”

Virgil had expected a vehement denial to pass his brother’s lips, but instead he simply hung his head in shame and remained quiet.

“Scotty!” Virgil hissed.  “Tell them it’s not true!  You’d never leave us, not like that!  We love you, and you love us too much to contemplate doing something like that!”

The silence stretched on.  Jeff was looking horrified as he attempted to come to terms that the fact his eldest son was contemplating terminating his life so he could be at peace.  Even Henderson had sat up and paid attention.

“I think Captain Tracy’s silence answers the question from his brother,” Lowe said eventually.

“Is that question really relevant for this interview?” Jeff interjected.  “Surely, this is a medical discussion not a debriefing one.”

“Colonel, this must also be added into the equation.  Ex-prisoners will be subject to PTSD, bouts of depression.  This is a documented fact that must be taken into account at the war crimes trial,” Clarke said.  “However painful it is to hear, PTSD and suicides is high in those that have been subjected to conditions such as Captain Tracy and the other prisoners have suffered.”

“You’re not planning on putting my son in an institution, I hope?” Jeff came back with.

“Not necessarily,” Lowe said.  “But we will need to ensure his safety and the safety of those around him.”

“I want to go home!” Scott suddenly exploded.  “Please!  Just let me go home!”  He sagged against his brother, suddenly exhausted.  “I’m tired… and I want to go home…”

Virgil suddenly grabbed hold of him before he collapsed completely.  “Scotty!” he exclaimed as his brother’s eyes closed.

Lowe quickly brought the scanner he carried to bear and ran it over Scott’s prone form. “I’m not the medic here, but I believe he’s suffering from exhaustion.  It’s been a long day for him.  Let’s get him on his bed.”  He looked at Clarke.  “Are we done here, Major?”

“We are.  Debrief terminated at… 16:30.  Thank you everyone.”  Clarke turned to Jeff who was assisting Virgil in getting Scott onto his bed.  “Colonel, I’m sorry we’ve exhausted your son during this debrief.  He should not be bothered again… at least until the trial.  Thank you for your cooperation.”

The officers packed up their equipment, offered their best wishes and left quietly.  Henderson stepped to Scott’s bedside and took a few moments to look down at his unconscious form.

“I hope he’ll be all right, Jeff.  He’s an incredibly strong individual.”

“I think if I can get him home and surrounded by his family he’ll be okay eventually,” Jeff finally replied.

“I really do hope so, I can’t afford to lose men like him.  He’s an exceptional pilot and leader.  You should be so proud of him.”

Jeff took a sharp intake of breath.  He was proud of his son, but he still hadn’t told him that he was.

Henderson caught the emotion but said nothing.  “I’m sorry I had to see you again in these circumstances.  Look after him.”  They shook hands, then he turned to Virgil.  “You’re a good brother, Virgil.  Look after him too.”

“We all will, Colonel,” Virgil said firmly, as they also shook hands.

“I’m sure you will.  I’m sure you will.”

The next installment has arrived... sorry, but Scott goes through the wringer with this chapter, and Virgil's pretty close behind him!

Warnings for this chapter: it's a debrief, there's no gory details, but it's pretty intense for mental anguish and breakdown; some remarks about sexual assault and some swearing. Nothing explicit, but you have been warned! Earlier chapters may be found on AO3 here.

Chapter 9 - Debrief

Jeff stood frozen as he took in the sight of his eldest son, cowering in the corner, hands and arms protecting his head as he sobbed and begged.

“P – please don’t… dad… please…”

Don’t what? Jeff thought frowning as he glanced at his mother.  He shrugged his shoulders in confusion.  “I don’t understand,” he whispered to her.  He went to move round the bed to go to his son, but Sally stopped him.

“Give him a minute, Jeff.  Let’s see if he comes out of it on his own.”

“But he’s in distress about something I’ve done.  What have I done?”  He saw the expression on his mother’s face change to one of disbelief.  “What?” he demanded.

She ignored him and concentrated on her grandson who was obviously in great distress, but she had to take her time and not rush in.  She was hoping that Scott would freely divulge the issue.

Scott continued to mumble to himself.  “I – I’m sorry, dad… I’m sor – ry that… that I’m a … a disappointment… I try… try so hard… but it’s… it’s…” his breathing became laboured as he became even more distressed.

Sally glanced at her son and saw his eyes widen.  The muscle in his jaw began to twitch and she wondered—no, hoped—that Jeff had had a lightbulb moment regarding his eldest son.

Jeff moved swiftly round the bed to kneel next to his sobbing son.  “Scotty, son… it’s okay, I know it’s hard,” he began.

Sally’s shoulders drooped in dismay.  The penny hadn’t dropped at all.  She felt like pulling her hair out, or cuffing her son round the head to knock some sense into him, but her immediate concern was for her grandson.  It was clear from what he was sort of saying that he felt he was a disappointment to his father, that he was never good enough and that was so far from the truth.  Scott had beaten all his dad’s records in the Air Force.  That alone should have been enough to  make his father proud of him, let alone reaching the rank of Captain by the age of 22, two years ahead of his father.

“He can’t do the debrief tomorrow,” Jeff muttered and Sally was inclined to agree, although if Scott was forced, it could be the step to breaking him, so he could be rebuilt or, it could all go horribly wrong and… she didn’t want to go down that path at all.  At the end of the day, Scott was incredibly strong mentally, even if he didn’t feel it at this precise moment, and he was recovering at least physically.  If they could get him over this next hurdle without too much further damage, he could start to heal mentally as well, and be more prepared for the war crimes trial that was currently being put together.  She had no doubt he would be called upon to give further evidence.

“Jeff, step away, let me near him,” Sally ordered, and her stare as her son looked up at her was enough to make him do as he was told.  She took his place, knees complaining slightly as she got down on the floor next to her grandson and began to talk calmly and quietly, and gently laid a hand  on his leg.  “Hey, Scotty.  It’s grandma.  I’m here, kiddo; you’re safe in the hospital…”  She kept talking to him, patting his leg gently.

It took several minutes, then his hold on his head began to relax slightly. “G’ma?” he queried in a whisper.

“Yes Scotty.  It’s me.  I’m right here with you.  Come on, kiddo, let me give you a proper hug, eh?”

More minutes passed, then Scott gradually began to uncurl his lanky form and moved to melt against his grandmother, folding into her as her hug tightened around him.

“There you go.  That’s much better now, isn’t it?  Your safe with me, Scotty.”

“Yeah, G’ma.  Safe.”

Jeff looked on from a little distance away, unsure what to think about the situation.  Sure, he’d crashed on the island when he’d been in the Air Force; busted his leg pretty good too.  He’d also had his SERE’s training, but he’d never had to put it to the test like his son had, so that was something else Scott had over him.  He became lost in his own thoughts for a moment, until Scott’s next words brought him back to reality with a bump.

“G’ma?”

“Yes, Scotty?”

“D’you think… dad… dad will ever be… will I ever be… be good enough?”

Sally glanced up sharply at Jeff and raised a questioning eyebrow, as if to say, well, will he? She returned her attention to her grandson.  “Oh Scotty, you are more than good enough.  Never doubt that my boy.  I’m so very proud of you.  Of the man you have become, of your achievements.  I’m fit to burst with pride.”

“He… he’s not…”  Fresh tears started.

Jeff went to protest, but Sally silenced him with another look.  Scott was upset and disorientated.  Jeff’s words wouldn’t mean anything to him in his current mental state.  They needed to be said when Scott was calm, relaxed and more cognisant.

“Oh Scotty, I know he’s never said it, but I’m sure he is very proud of you.”

She wasn’t sure if her words had gotten through to him or not, but she realised he was becoming very heavy.

“Scotty?”

“Tired,” he came back with.

She waited a few more minutes until Scott had totally relaxed, then indicated for Jeff to come and lift Scott back onto his bed, which he did; moving slowly and carefully so as not to wake him.

“What did he mean, I’m not?  Not what?”

“Oh Jeff, for a smart man, you can be incredibly stupid!” Sally hissed.  “All Scott ever wanted from you, was to obtain your approval and hear that you’re proud of him, and you’ve never done either of those things.  All you’ve done is push him harder and harder.  Nothing he does is good enough for you.”

“That’s not true!” Jeff objected.  “I am proud of him; he has my approval—”

“And when did you actually tell him this?” she interrupted.

Jeff opened his mouth, and it hung open as he searched his brain for an answer and found he didn’t have one.  “He’s my first born, he has to be tough if he’s going to take over from me eventually,” he finally answered.  “I have to prepare him for every eventuality.  It’s a brutal world out there.”

“You think he doesn’t know that?” Sally snapped back.  “Look at him, Jeff!  Look at your son and what he’s been through, what he’s suffered!  Right now, he needs his father to love him, to put his mind at ease, that he’s not a disappointment to him.”

“He’s not a disappointment!”

“Then tell him that!  He’s hurting.  You’re hurting him, son.  Don’t you think he’s been hurt enough?”

Jeff bristled with the pain that everything his mother had said to him was true.  “I – I…” he began, then abruptly turned on a heel and walked out.  Sally’s shoulders slumped.  It was going to be a long night.

o0o

Virgil was livid with the lid off when he found out about the debrief.  “No!  No they can’t!” he raged at his dad the following morning.  “He’s not ready for it!”

“Will he ever be ready?” Jeff countered.  “Perhaps it would be for the better if we get it over and done with, then we can really concentrate on helping Scott get well.  Remember, if the war crimes trial takes place, he could well be required to give evidence there and that will be in front of a larger number of people.  We can help prepare him for that.”

Virgil steamed silently.  He saw the point, but having seen the state Scott had gotten into at the interview, he was absolutely dreading the debriefing.  “I want to be there with him,” he finally said.

“Virgil, it’s a military debrief, they may not let you.”

“Well, they can’t court martial me for trying to be there!  What time is it due to start?”

“10:00 am.”

“That’s in 90 minutes time!  Who’s with him at the moment?  Grandma?”

“Yes.”

“Right, let’s get going!”

“Virgil… breakfast?”

“I’ll grab something on the way!”

When they got to Scott’s room, Sally was standing outside and told them Scott was up and now she was going back to the room for some decent sleep.  He’d had a reasonable night—not perfect—but he had managed to get about 4 hours sleep.  When they went in, they found him dressed in an Air Force t-shirt and fatigues and sitting at the small table in the room.  Sally had given him a shave and combed his rather unruly hair into some semblance of order, but the front was long enough to keep flopping over into his right eye.  He looked a little more like his old self, but the hollow gauntness of his face and the fact the t-shirt swamped him slightly indicated he was far from how he should look.

“Scotty,” Virgil breathed, remembering to approach him slowly.  “Hey bro, beginning to look pretty good,” he enthused.  “May I?”  He indicated he wanted to give him a hug.  Scott nodded.

“Hey Virg,” Scott replied quietly as his younger brother enfolded him carefully in his arms.  “Thanks for coming.”  There was a slight waver in his voice, and Virgil knew immediately he was feeling apprehensive about the forthcoming meeting.

“I’ll see you through this, Scotty.  I swear.  You and me together, bro.”  He continued to hug him until there was a knock on the door.  It was 9:45 am.

“Come in,” Jeff said and the door opened to admit Alistair Lowe; Scott’s therapist.

He introduced himself to the rest of the family, then asked Scott for permission to approach and sit down, which the Air Force captain nodded to.

“Captain Tracy, I’m here to ensure your welfare during this debriefing.  If at any time you need it to stop, just say.  I have the authority to make that happen, okay?  No one is here to make a judgement; it is purely a fact finding debrief of your side of the mission and… what happened whilst you were held captive in—”

“Don’t say the word!” Virgill snapped, laying a soothing hand on Scott’s knee.

“Very well.  I will brief Colonel Henderson and Major Clarke to that effect.  Water will be arriving shortly.  Is there anything else you need?”

“I – I want my brother to stay.”

“This is a military matter—”

“I stay, or the debrief doesn’t happen,” Virgil interrupted.  He stood up at that point, in a show of strength, his broad frame taking on a somewhat threatening stature.  “You say you are here to ensure my brother’s welfare?  Well, part of his welfare is that I stay.”

“Virgil,” Jeff began.

“No dad.  Scott isn’t well enough for this debrief, but they are insisting, so they will agree to this, or it’s not happening.  And that’s final.”

Scott grasped his brother’s hand, feeling a little choked at how his brother was standing up for him, in a complete role reversal, when Scott had stood up to bullies who had been giving his little brother a hard time at school.  It was a silent ‘thank you,’ from him.

Lowe finally nodded.

There was another knock at the door.  It was a member of the catering staff with a large jug of water and some glasses, which she placed on the table.  Some more chairs arrived and then, just before 10:00, Scott’s CO and the JAG team arrived.

Captain Tracy struggled to his feet to salute them.  Virgil steadied him as he wavered slightly but still managed to see the shock on Henderson’s face at his brother’s appearance before he masked it.

The officers all returned the salute, then Henderson spoke up.  “At ease, Tracy.  Sit down before you fall down.”  He gave a small smile.  “Good to see you, son.”  He held out his hand which Scott shook before partially collapsing back onto his chair.  Henderson looked at all those present.  “Colonel Tracy,” he said, shaking Jeff’s hand.  “You’re looking well.”

“Thank you, and so are you,” Jeff responded.

“And who are you, young man?”

“Virgil Tracy, one of Scott’s younger brothers.”

Henderson immediately picked up on the lack of ‘Sir’ following his reply.

“You’re not military, are you?”

“No Colonel, I’m not, but I’m not leaving my brother’s side.  I can keep my mouth shut.”

Henderson noted the familiar look of fire in the eyes of the young man.  With that expression, there was no doubting the two men were related and very much Jefferson Tracy’s sons.

“Very well.  I believe you already know Major Clarke and Lt Pearson?  Lt Lowe has already introduced himself.  Shall we get this show on the road so we can let Captain Tracy rest and recover?”

Everyone took a seat, apart from Jeff, who moved back to perch on the bed.  Virgil glanced at him, then at Scott, who stiffened, then sighed and shrugged slightly.  He was a disappointment to his father, he knew that, so he might as well let him hear the whole sorry story so he would know just how big a disappointment he was.

Lt Pearson was recording the proceedings once again.

The debrief was called to order, a role call was done, then Henderson spoke.  “Captain Tracy, we have the debrief from the rest of your squadron, but we need to hear your side of things.  I know it was a few months ago, but see if you can remember as much as you can about the mission.  Now, the drop was successful and you were on your way back to friendly airspace.”

Scott took a sip of water before starting to talk.  No one said anything about noticing that his hand was shaking slightly.

“Yes sir.  We were about 100 miles from friendly air space, which equated to around 11 minutes at the speed of the transport.  I remember asking my squadron to keep their eyes peeled, and asked if Rescue 1—the transport plane—could get any more speed out of his crate and they agreed to redline their engines for that time.

“I think a couple of minutes passed, then my navigator reported bandits approaching from the east at 30,000 feet, Mach er… 1.7 and I ordered the squadron to prepare to engage, but no firing until the enemy did.  I told Rescue 1 to keep heading for the border and that we’d do our best to keep the fighters away from them.”

“Can you remember how many enemy fighters, Captain?” Henderson asked.

Scott paused to take another sip of water.

“It was 24, sir.  We shadowed them and then I think we were about five minutes from the border when they broke formation and attacked and fired on us.  So I ordered my squad to break, gain height and keep them off the transport and engage.  I shot one down, then Hawk got two on his tail as did I, so we played chicken.  That got rid of another four.  The rest of the squad were engaging and managed some hits.  My squad had a couple of hits, but they were able to limp back home.  I remember glancing at my watch and saw we were two minutes out.  Vulture had 3 fighters on his tail, I got one and damaged another, and by then Rescue 1 reached friendly air space, so I told my squad to run for home…”  He paused and swallowed, took a deep breath and carried on.  “That was when my plane was hit.  Raven screamed; said he was bleeding pretty badly and that he… he couldn’t feel his legs.”

Beside him, Virgil placed a hand on his thigh for support.

“My plane started spluttering, but I kept heading for the border, and then the engine gave out.  My wingman told me he was leading the squad back to assist, but I ordered them to stay away.  Hawk said I was breaking up and carried on coming.  I was losing height and speed fast and knew we had to bail out.  I ordered my navigator to blow the canopy, but then he told me there was a town ahead and if we did, we’d hit it and kill civilians, so I told him to bail out and I’d make sure the plane missed the town, only his canopy release failed.  I let Hawk know and the squad stayed with me as long as possible but their fuel was running out so I told them to go.  Hawk said he’d be back as soon as he refuelled.”

Scott stopped for a number of seconds.

“Please continue, Captain, you’re doing fine,” Henderson encouraged.

Scott swallowed and then took a couple more sips of water.  His throat was suddenly becoming very dry.

“I – I spied a wood in the distance and hoped to get as close as possible so we could attempt to hide in there, but we crashed about a mile short of it which I think put us 5 miles from the border.  I think I was knocked unconscious, but I’m not sure how long for.  All I knew was we had to get out and try and make a run for it, as there’d be people from the town coming to investigate.  I blew my canopy, and then wrestled Raven’s.  He was out cold, so I dragged him from the plane, heaved him over my shoulder and started walking.  I didn’t get very far before a vehicle arrived.  I was told to halt or they’d fire, but I kept going and… and they shot me in the leg and we went down.  I got to my knees, and was kicked in the side.

“Raven was coming round and moaning in pain.  I tried to reach for him, but was dragged some distance away.  An officer grasped my chin and welcomed me to… to his country and asked me if they should shoot me as a spy.  I guess I smart mouthed him by saying he couldn’t do that because I was in uniform, and got a rifle butt in my gut. Two guards dragged me to my feet and asked if Raven was my navigator.  I asked them to help him as per the Geneva Convention and received another blow in the gut.  Another couple of guards dragged him to his feet, and he was screaming in agony.  I – I tried to reach him but… the Captain of the guard took out his sidearm and… and…” Scott gave a choked half cry, half sob.

“Captain Tracy, are you all right?” Lowe asked him, as he watched Scott’s breathing become ragged.  He looked at Henderson and the JAG team.  “Give him a minute,” he said.

They waited patiently for Scott to continue.

“They… they shot him in the head,” he finally managed to get out.  “They… they knocked me out.  I don’t know what… what happened to Raven.  I woke up in a small dark cell, I think it was two days later after the guards beat the living daylights out of me… I… everything hurt.”

Scott went silent.  Virgil reached for his hand under the table and squeezed it firmly.

It was all quiet for a couple of minutes before Henderson spoke up again.  “Thank you, Captain Tracy.  Your account matches that given by your squadron, and thank you for filling in the gaps I… I know it must have been exceedingly painful to recount that final part.  Let’s take a five minute break, then we’ll proceed with the details of the internment in the camp.”

Virgil placed his other hand on Scott’s back and began to gently rub circles there.  “You’re doing okay,” he whispered to him.  “I’m right here, Scotty, okay?  Lean on me, take my strength.”  He gave Scott’s hand another squeeze and was rewarded by the slightest of nods.  “Get some more water down you.”  Virgil let go of his hand temporarily whilst he refilled the glass and put it closer to his brother, then held his hand again.

In the end they stretched the break to ten minutes, but it still went far too quickly for Scott’s liking.  Major Clarke cleared his throat.

“Captain Tracy, you kindly identified some prisoners for me the other day, and confirmed that it was Colonel Mendelski in charge of the camp you were interned in.”  He paused, and Virgil couldn’t help himself.

“Have you got the bastard in custody?” he asked.

Clarke jumped at the sudden outburst, but recovered and shook his head.  “No.  Unfortunately Colonel Mendelski is still at large and appears to have gone to ground.  Spectrum are continuing their search for him.”

Virgil gave a snort of disgust, fidgeted, then settled down again, knowing that he now had to main control of his emotions for his brother’s sake, because this was going to be dark and downright ugly.

“Captain Tracy, would you tell us what food and water was like, please,” Clarke began, deciding it would be safer to start on a subject that wouldn’t inflict to much suffering on the young captain.

“I – I didn’t get anything for the first two days,” Scott replied quietly.

“Nothing at all?”

“Nothing.”

“When did you get your first nourishment?”

Scott managed a snort at that sentence.  “If you can call it that,” he replied in disdain.  “They must have had someone spying on me, or listening out, because when I regained consciousness, they dragged me out of my cell into a really bright room.  I was sat in a chair and handcuffed to it.”  He paused and swallowed.  “That’s… that’s when I first met… him.”

“Him?  As in Mendelski?”

Scott nodded, then remembered that he had to speak for the record.  “Yes sir.”

“What and you tell us about him.  Anything you can remember that may help us find him.  How tall he is; his mannerisms, anything at all.”

“He’s about six two; broad shouldered, that photo was pretty accurate and he’s… and he’s a sick perverted bastard!”  He was aware of Virgil’s hand tightening on his and was thankful for it.

“What can you remember of the conversation?”

Scott winced at the memory.  “Er…” He’d never forget it.  He swallowed.  “He was looking forward to having a ‘little chat’ as he put it and then asked if I’d heard of him.  I had, but I decided to say I hadn’t, and for a second I thought he was going to use his swagger stick on me, but he didn’t… at least not at that point.  He had… he had a complete file on me.  Whose son I was, my medals… stuff he shouldn’t have known.”  He paused and swallowed, shut his eyes for a couple of seconds, took yet another sip of water as if to gather his courage and carried on.  “Then… then he told me I was handsome and where I got my looks from.”  He glanced briefly at his father then picked a spot on the small table to stare at.  “Then he… he grasped my chin and forced me to look up at him and told me it would be a pity to mar such beauty.”

Beside him, he felt Virgil stiffen and this time it was he who squeezed his younger brother’s hand to keep him calm.

“I jerked my head back as he attempted to run a finger down my cheek, then he shoved his swagger stick hard under my chin to force my head back further and said he could be kind and considerate, then called me Scott as we were going to become very good friends.  The swagger stick wandered downwards towards my groin.”  He stopped and shuddered at the memory.  “I fell back on my SERE training with name, rank and service number and he rammed that swagger stick into my midriff and winded me and he said he enjoyed a challenge but would be generous as it was our first meeting and I should think about my position.  He even mentioned about asking dad if he would be willing to pay for my freedom.”

He sensed rather than saw his father stiffen and straighten up at that remark.

“He ordered me to be seen by the doctor, so they took me to their infirmary.  I had to strip, shower and then the doctor fixed me up, gave me some antibiotics.  He came in before I had a chance to get dressed and was eyeing me all the time whilst I got back into my flight suit and made some uncomfortable remarks.”  Colour flooded his pale skin as he remembered and thankfully, Clarke didn’t ask about them.  The major had taken one look at Scott’s heightened colour and drew his own conclusions.  He had heard about Mendelski’s preference for beautiful men from other prisoners.

“Once I was dressed, they took me back to my cell.  There was watery slop of a stew and a cup of water waiting for me.”

“How often did they feed you?”

“Once a day, if I was lucky.  Some days, after an interrogation had finished, I… I couldn’t move to reach it; I was either in too much pain or too weak from what they’d subjected me to.”

“What about hygiene?” Clarke asked.

“A damp, dirty mattress to sleep on and a bucket in the corner.”

“Nothing else?  No blankets?  No washing facilities?”

“No.  Although every now and again when I was strung up naked, they’d turn a hose on me and blast me with freezing water and leave me to dry if I started bleeding too much.”

“Captain, I’d now like you to describe what was done to you,” Clarke said softly.  “Are you able to do that?”  He gave the airman a look of compassion, but not pity as Scott winced, did nothing for a number of seconds, then gave a jerky nod.

“I – I c – can do that, but it’s going to be all mixed up.  They… they came for me at all times of the day and night.  I quickly lost track of time; never saw daylight. Stuff might not be in the right order because they drugged me and beat me.  Stripped me, suspended me from a hook so my toes could hardly touch the floor… used a cattle prod on me, hit me with sticks, c – cut me, punched me, broke my bones, strangled me… tied… tied me to… to a table, gagged me, put a cloth bag over my head and waterboarded me, or they’d hold my head down in a tub of water and let me almost drown… they liked that one… to hear me coughing and trying to expel the water before putting me under again and again.  They liked to be… inventive… I never knew what they were going to do to me next.”

Scott was breathing heavily.  On his other side, Lowe ran a scanner over him, then whispered quietly to him.  A muscle in Scott’s jaw twitched and he shook his head, keeping his eyes averted from everyone.

“Lieutenant?” Clarke asked the therapist.

“I was asking the Captain if he wanted another break, sir.  I’ve checked his vitals; his heartrate is highly elevated and oxygen sat is lower than I’d like, but he’s insisting on carrying on.”

“Very well.  But Captain, you must tell us if you need a rest, all right?”

Scott managed a feeble nod.

“What information were they after?”

“At first it was the normal stuff… strength of foreign forces, how we operated, what spies were in the country, our plans to invade B – B – their country.”

“Can you explain what you mean by ‘at first?’”

“Those questions went on… I don’t know how long.  The pain got so bad, I told them a pack of lies to get some relief… but that… that backfired on me and…” he tried to suppress a sob at the memory. “They beat me so badly I… I thought I was going to die… I… I even wished I had.  Then, then they gagged me and waterboarded me and somehow still expected me to give them information, but I couldn’t.  The gag prevented me from saying anything.  They stopped asking questions towards the end; just carried on torturing me because they could.  I remember… a guard… whispering… if I let him ram his cock up my sweet ass it would all stop.”

“When you say ‘him,’ you’re referring to Mendelski?”

Scott answering nod was somewhat jerky.

“But you didn’t.”

“N – no… but I… I…”

The scanner emitted an alarm and flashed red.  Lowe placed a hand on Scott’s arm.  “Steady, Captain.  It’s all right.  We can stop.  No one wants to distress you too much.”

Scott shook his head.  “I – I considered it for… for about a millisecond and realised he’d throw it back in my face.  That bastard wanted me to crawl to him and offer myself to him.  He even told me he wouldn’t hurt me anymore because there were plenty of other soldiers they could work on.  I – I couldn’t let that happen.”

“And where was Mendelski whilst you were being interrogated?”

“A lot of the time he was there, watching, a smile on his face.”  Scott’s face contorted at the memory.  He shuddered as he remembered the colonel ogling his naked body.

“I’m sorry Captain, I have to ask you this… was watching all he did?”

Scott hunched up at that question.  “You know what he did!” he almost screamed back.  “But… but if you want the sordid details, he – he ran his hands over my body, touched me intimately, trying to get… get my body to… to respond to… to him; licked me, whispered obscenities in my ear, describing what he’d like to do to me and attempted to kiss me whilst the guards looked on, grinning and laughing!  I fought… I fought so hard, but I couldn’t… couldn’t stop… stop him!”

With surprising speed and agility, Scott threw himself from his chair and into a corner curling up into a ball, rocking, trying not to break down totally.  Lowe immediately stood up.

“Enough!” he said to Clarke.  “We’ll take a 30 minute break!”

Lowe stopped Virgil from rushing to his brother.

“Slowly!” he ordered.  “He’s not in a good place right now.  It’s good it’s coming out, but we have to move slowly.  He needs you.  Talk to him softly and approach slowly.  I think he’ll prefer to have you close rather than me.”

Virgil managed to get a grip on his own emotions and nodded slowly.  The lullaby left his lips softly, but the notes wavered slightly.

Henderson looked round and saw the pained expression on Jeff’s face knowing it probably matched his own.  Captain Tracy had been missing for 13 weeks; been at the mercy of that pervert for all that time; day in day out; never knowing what was going to happen to him next.  He was his best pilot and he hoped the young man he had grown to admire and tried to protect wasn’t broken beyond the ability for the professionals and his own family to fix.  The Colonel felt sick to his stomach after hearing his testimony and it wasn’t over yet.  When this debrief was finished, he was going to get drunk to try and wash away the memories of what Scott had stated; of the pain he had endured.

Jeff desperately wanted to go to his son; wrap him in cotton wool and whisk him away to the island; to safety.  He knew his son had been assaulted, but he hadn’t realised to what extent; and his one small comfort was that he hadn’t been raped.

It took Virgil 17 minutes before he was able to wrap his brother in a much needed hug.  Henderson and Pearson had left the room for some fresh air; Clarke went to Jeff and spoke to him.

“I am truly sorry we are having to put Scott through this interview,” he began.  “Your son is a remarkable young man.  I know he may not feel that way, but the information he has provided has been of more use than many other interviews I have carried out recently.  It will go a long way to getting convictions against those who have committed these crimes and serve the justice deserved.  Perhaps it will even help to prevent this kind of thing happening in the future.”

“All my son wanted to do was help people.  Flying escort to the relief aid was his best way of doing this and for what?  To be shot down, to be tortured by those he was trying to help.”  Jeff stopped and took a couple of deep breaths.  “I’m sorry if I sound bitter… but I am.  There isn’t an ounce of malice or arrogance in that boy’s body.  He didn’t deserve what happened to him; none of those prisoners did.”

“Then let us hope and pray that his testimony will go towards stopping it happening again in the future.”

In the end, they broke for over an hour, getting some lunch, although Scott refused to eat anything despite Virgil’s best attempts to get him to have even a bite of a sandwich.  The only thing he did manage was to get Scott back on his chair.

Major Clarke approached him and spoke softly.  “Captain, you have done extremely well, and on behalf of everyone present I thank you.  We are almost finished here.  Do you think you will be able to continue today?”

Scott had finally stopped trembling, but he was extremely embarrassed about his conduct during the interview.

“May I call you Scott?” Clarke asked, and gave a gentle smile as the Captain nodded.  “Scott, you have conducted yourself with honour.  I am truly sorry I had to ask some of those most probing questions, but they are required, if we are to bring justice for prisoners like yourself.  You have absolutely no reason to be embarrassed about anything that has gone on here today, do you understand me?  You survived in the most dire of circumstances for which your family is eternally grateful.  Now, will it be all right if we begin in five minutes?”

Scott nodded again, but still said nothing.  Clarke thanked him and returned to his seat.  Virgil and Lowe returned to Scott’s side; the former giving him a hug and whispering in his ear that he was so proud of him for being able to divulge the information.

A couple of minutes later Henderson, Pearson and Jeff reappeared and took their places.

“Note, we are reconvening at 15:00.  Captain Tracy, when I originally showed you the photographs of the… camp officers, you pointed to one and said he was innocent.  Please will you expand on that answer.”

“I – I never knew his name,” Scott almost whispered.  “But if he was one of the guards to escort me back to my cell, he never pushed me through the door; he always led me in and if I was in a really bad shape, he’d make sure he put me on the mattress, and that the food and water were in reach.  The final time I saw him, he apologised and said not everyone was in favour of the war; that he wasn’t a bad man, but that he had to try and protect his family.  He hoped that I would remember that not everyone had treated me harshly.  I don’t know if he was like this with everyone, but he was with me.  I hope the other guards didn’t treat him badly because of the attitude he displayed towards me.  I ask that he does not stand trial.”

“That will be so noted,” Clarke said.  “Now, I have your medical record as part of the evidence.  I am not going to read the list of injuries out, but is it true to say that towards the end you were extremely ill—dying in fact?”

Scott again took a deep breath.  “I – I don’t know how many weeks passed before I…” he paused, uncertain.  Virgil squeezed his hand once again and it gave him the courage to continue to say what he had to.  “Before they… they broke me and I gave up.  Apart from the physical torture, they had also been mentally abusing me, telling me I was a disappointment to the Air Force, to my family; that no one would come for me, that they would break me and I would die here, alone and be forgotten.  I ignored it at first… when I still had fight left in me, but after I don’t know how long, I guess I… I started to believe them and I… I gave up, resigned to the fact that I was going to die.”  Those present almost didn’t hear his last few words he had spoken them so quietly.  Next to him, he felt Virgil stiffen and attempt to stifle a sob.  He turned to him.  “I – I’m sorry, Virgil… but I’d… I’d reached rock bottom.  Apart from the physical injuries, I knew I was really ill, which I now know was the double pneumonia starting.  Breathing was becoming increasingly difficult, and I think I finally succumbed and fell into a coma.”  He stopped and swallowed, then with a shaky hand took another few sips of water.

“I somehow was aware that he visited me, but I can’t remember what he said; I was burning up by then, but I remember opening my eyes and seeing him pointing a gun at my head, and I asked forgiveness from my family, and for them not to forget me.  He was going to shoot me, but I think he misunderstood my final word.  I uttered ‘please,’ but I wasn’t pleading for him to put me out of my misery, I was asking my family not to forget me.

“He did fire his weapon, I remember it making me jump, but he didn’t fire it at me.  He must have left then, and I don’t remember anything else after that point until I woke up here.”

He turned to his brother and threw his arms around him, and they sobbed in one another’s arms as Scott kept repeating, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“You – you have nothing to apologise for, Scotty.  I’m sorry we didn’t find you sooner.  We let you down, I’m sorry!”

“It’s not your fault Virgil.  Please don’t blame yourself.”

Clarke cleared his throat.  “Captain Tracy, thank you for your testimony.  I have one final question for you.  How are you feeling now?”

Scott released his brother and turned in his chair to face the JAG officer.  “I’m healing slowly.  I – I admit I was shocked when I saw myself in a mirror, I – I didn’t recognise myself… and the scars…” his voice trailed off.

“And mentally?”

The pilot flinched violently.  “I’m fine.”

His father and Virgil also flinched violently at that response.  The standard Scott Tracy answer; a lie most of the time.  He could be bleeding out and he’d say he was fine so as not to worry them.

“Captain, we both know… as do the rest of your family, going by their reaction to your reply, that that isn’t the truth, is it?”

The expression in his eyes gave him away.  He’d been well and truly caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“Lt Lowe, how have your sessions with Captain Tracy gone so far?”

“They haven’t, Major.  Captain Tracy has refused to talk about his experience.  This is the first time he has spoken… openly about it, which is a good thing, but…”

“But?” Clarke prompted.

“I know every case has to be assessed individually, but going from my experience with other recovered prisoners, I would say there will be feelings of self-loathing, shame, failure, doubt that he will recover…”  There was a long pause.  “There is even the chance he considers suicide so that he can be at peace.”

Virgil had expected a vehement denial to pass his brother’s lips, but instead he simply hung his head in shame and remained quiet.

“Scotty!” Virgil hissed.  “Tell them it’s not true!  You’d never leave us, not like that!  We love you, and you love us too much to contemplate doing something like that!”

The silence stretched on.  Jeff was looking horrified as he attempted to come to terms that the fact his eldest son was contemplating terminating his life so he could be at peace.  Even Henderson had sat up and paid attention.

“I think Captain Tracy’s silence answers the question from his brother,” Lowe said eventually.

“Is that question really relevant for this interview?” Jeff interjected.  “Surely, this is a medical discussion not a debriefing one.”

“Colonel, this must also be added into the equation.  Ex-prisoners will be subject to PTSD, bouts of depression.  This is a documented fact that must be taken into account at the war crimes trial,” Clarke said.  “However painful it is to hear, PTSD and suicides is high in those that have been subjected to conditions such as Captain Tracy and the other prisoners have suffered.”

“You’re not planning on putting my son in an institution, I hope?” Jeff came back with.

“Not necessarily,” Lowe said.  “But we will need to ensure his safety and the safety of those around him.”

“I want to go home!” Scott suddenly exploded.  “Please!  Just let me go home!”  He sagged against his brother, suddenly exhausted.  “I’m tired… and I want to go home…”

Virgil suddenly grabbed hold of him before he collapsed completely.  “Scotty!” he exclaimed as his brother’s eyes closed.

Lowe quickly brought the scanner he carried to bear and ran it over Scott’s prone form. “I’m not the medic here, but I believe he’s suffering from exhaustion.  It’s been a long day for him.  Let’s get him on his bed.”  He looked at Clarke.  “Are we done here, Major?”

“We are.  Debrief terminated at… 16:30.  Thank you everyone.”  Clarke turned to Jeff who was assisting Virgil in getting Scott onto his bed.  “Colonel, I’m sorry we’ve exhausted your son during this debrief.  He should not be bothered again… at least until the trial.  Thank you for your cooperation.”

The officers packed up their equipment, offered their best wishes and left quietly.  Henderson stepped to Scott’s bedside and took a few moments to look down at his unconscious form.

“I hope he’ll be all right, Jeff.  He’s an incredibly strong individual.”

“I think if I can get him home and surrounded by his family he’ll be okay eventually,” Jeff finally replied.

“I really do hope so, I can’t afford to lose men like him.  He’s an exceptional pilot and leader.  You should be so proud of him.”

Jeff took a sharp intake of breath.  He was proud of his son, but he still hadn’t told him that he was.

Henderson caught the emotion but said nothing.  “I’m sorry I had to see you again in these circumstances.  Look after him.”  They shook hands, then he turned to Virgil.  “You’re a good brother, Virgil.  Look after him too.”

“We all will, Colonel,” Virgil said firmly, as they also shook hands.

“I’m sure you will.  I’m sure you will.”

(ao3 link)

Rating: Teen and Up

Characters: Scott Tracy, John Tracy, Virgil Tracy, Gordon Tracy, Alan Tracy, Kayo Kyrano, Brains, Grandma Tracy, Wilson, Lindsey, Lucille Tracy (mentioned), Jeff Tracy (mentioned)

Summary: I love TOS/TAG with all my heart, but I really wished they'd done a TAG version of The Uninvited. Get rid of the guns and the (kinda accidental?) ethnic genocide, and it's a great ep, and the new dynamics of TAS would have only improved it. Like what do you mean your big brother has been shot down, and everyone is kinda like 'gee! wonder if he's dead or not? golly how darn frustrating'. So I decided to take matters into my own hands. And sprinkled some of my favourite fanon/headcanons in there for good measure.

Chapter 4 | AO3

Warnings for discussion of medical treatments

~

EOS rattled of a short list of potential issues congruent with Phytobdella Catenifera to the silent infirmary.

Virgil waited until she’d finished before giving himself a mental shake and gathering his thoughts. Ok…Coagulation issues were going to be the first thing to deal with. After removing the leeches, of course.

‘Right. Thanks, EOS. So Gordon – can you stabilise the bleeding as much as you can by keeping the pressure above the wound constant and also put a little pressure on the underneath bandage while I remove the leeches? Once they’re gone I can concentrate on treating the wound.’ ‘FAB, I’m on it!’

Sorry this chapter is late. It was fighting back! Scott gets to see himself in a mirror for the first time and it's a shock. Then, to top it all, receives some bad news...

Warnings for this chapter: some swearing, emotional/mental upset.

Earlier chapters may be found on AO3 here.

Chapter 8 - Hiccup

It was the low whimper that woke Virgil.  Opening his eyes, he saw that the sun had almost set and realised he’d been asleep for a few hours.  His eldest brother was still enfolded in his arms, but he was restless; there was a frown on his face and his breathing hitched as he unconsciously shook his head and gave a low moan of denial.

“It’s okay, Scotty,” Virgil soothed.  “You’re safe, I promise.”  He began to hum the lullaby their mother used to sing to them when they were upset or in need of comfort, in the hope it would chase away whatever nightmare was developing in his eldest brother’s mind.

Scott gave a sharp intake of breath, then jerked awake, disorientated for a few seconds until the soft humming penetrated his consciousness.

“V – Virg?” he gasped out.

“I’m here, Scooter.  You’re safe, everything’s fine,” Virgil replied softly, soothingly as he carded his fingers through his brother’s hair.  “You’re perfectly safe, and I’m right here, by your side.”

“I – I thought… I thought I was back…”  His breathing was ragged and he was trembling.

“No, you’re in a US military hospital still, and I’m right by your side.”  He felt Scott  tighten the hold on his arm as if to convince himself it was all true.  “Do you believe me, now?”

“Ye – Yeah.  Sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologise for.  I’m not surprised the interview today has resulted in you almost having a nightmare.  It wasn’t unexpected and that’s why I’m not leaving your side.  I’m going to keep those nightmares away from you as much as I can.”

“Love you, bro.”

“And never doubt I love you… we all do, okay?  Together, working as a team we’ll get you through this, whatever it takes.”

Scott didn’t get a chance to reply as there was a knock on the door which then opened to admit one of the catering staff with dinner.  She smiled at the two men as she placed the tray on the mobile table and then left.

“I need the bathroom,” Scott said, embarrassed.

“Okay, I’ll help you get there and I’ll stand guard outside the door.  Will you be all right in there on your own?”

“I -  I don’t know.  But I – I have to start using it at some point, rather than rely on… you know.”

Virgil nodded and slowly disentangled himself from his brother before getting off the bed.  He turned to face him.  “What do you need me to do?” he asked matter-of-factly, all business like so as not to embarrass his brother further.

“Just help me get there.  I’m not very steady on my legs yet.”

“Sure.”  He held out his arms in readiness.

Scott swept the bedding back off himself, thankful that his pitifully thin legs were clad in pyjama bottoms, but he could tell by the way they didn’t fill them that he had lost a lot of muscle mass.  He took a deep breath and slowly sat up properly, having to use his hands to push himself into a sitting position, then attempted to move himself so his legs were dangling down over the side, but they didn’t seem to want to cooperate and he gave a half huff half sob in frustration.

“Hey, small steps, Scotty,” Virgil said encouragingly.  “You can’t expect to climb a mountain straight away.  Come on, it’s not a weakness to ask for a little help.  It’s a sign of strength.”

Scott took a deep breath, but wouldn’t look at his younger brother.  He just nodded his head and Virgil started a monologue that he was going to take hold of his legs and swing them round, then Scott was to place his hands on Virgil’s shoulders, whilst he placed his under Scott’s armpits to support him.

Within a minute, Scott was on his feet, clutching Virgil’s shoulders tightly feeling a little light headed.

“You okay?”

Scott took some deep breaths in an effort to regain his equilibrium, then nodded, but Virgil saw a lone tear meander its way down his face.

“It’s all right, Scotty,” he soothed.  “I know you’re feeling weak and useless, but it’s temporary.  Look how far you’ve come already.  Come on, let’s get that bladder of yours sorted.”

Scott half sobbed, half laughed at that remark and gave a tiny smile.  He had to lean heavily on Virgil to travel the short distance and by the time he reached the door, his legs were trembling with the effort.

Virgil stopped at the entrance, as if sensing his brother needed to gather some courage to go into the small, enclosed room, even though with the light on, it was bright and airy.  “Ready when you are, he said to him,” and he stood patiently waiting for Scott to gather his courage.

A number of deep breaths followed, then Scott straightened up a little.  “O – okay,” came the slightly nervous response.

“I’ll help you in, then I’ll come out and close the door, but not all the way, so you can see there’s a gap and you’re not trapped in there.  Will that suffice?”

“I – I think so.”

Virgil nodded and they slowly made their way in.  Fortunately, Scott was gazing at his feet, making sure he placed them squarely as he part walked, part shuffled forward, so he didn’t see the face Virgil pulled.  The mirror in the bathroom was uncovered.  Scott had yet to get a good look at himself in one and the younger man was afraid about how he’d take it.  But he couldn’t do anything about it now.  Any steps he made to try and cover it would draw even more attention to it.

Arriving at their destination, Virgil ensured Scott was balanced.  “Okay, I’m letting go of you now.  Can you manage from here?  If not, just say the word and I’ll come back in and help you.”

“This is so fucking embarrassing,” Scott mumbled.

“Hey bro, you haven’t got anything I haven’t already seen!”

“Oh that makes me feel a darn sight better,” came the slightly sarcastic reply and Virgil smiled good naturedly.  “Get out.”  It was said without anger or malice.  The younger man smiled again, nodded then turned around and left, pulling the door too, but not closed so Scott could take care of his ablutions in relative privacy.

It seemed to be going well until Virgil heard a thwump and a cry of pure despair.

“Scott!  Scotty are you okay in there?”

There was no answer.

“Virgil’s heart rate escalated.  “Scotty!  Answer me!  Scotty!”

Silence reigned apart from the muffled sound of some sobbing.

“Scotty, I’m coming in!”  Virgil cautiously opened the door and found Scott on the floor, in front of the wash basin, head buried in his hands, attempting to cry quietly and partly failing.  “Scotty!  What’s wrong?”  Virgil was at his side in an instant.  He forgot all about warning his brother he was coming and hung onto him tightly as he fought against him.  “It’s all right, I’m here, no one’s going to hurt you.  Tell me what’s happened?” he cooed as he listened to his brother gasping for breath as he tried to break free.  “It’s me, it’s Virgil…” he began humming the lullaby again.  It took a number of seconds for his baritone voice to penetrate, but Scott finally stopped struggling and just buried his head in Virgil’s shoulder and sobbed his heart out, breaking Virgil’s heart.  “I’ve got you, Scotty.  I’ve got you.  It’s going to be all right, I promise.”

He began to gently rock his brother as he continued to hum.  It took a few minutes, but gradually the sobbing stopped and Scott remained in Virgil’s arms, trembling slightly.

“I’ve got you,” Virgil repeated.  “Whatever it is, we’ll get through it together, okay?”  He felt his brother slump heavily in his arms as if all the fight had gone out of him, so he shifted position slightly and carded a hand through his hair to carry on reassuring him that he was safe.

Scott’s eyes remained closed for a few minutes and his breathing gradually evened out.  For a brief moment, Virgil thought he had succumbed to sleep, but then he opened his eyes.  Tear filled blue orbs gazed up at him.

“Hi there, Scotty.”  There was pure unadulterated love in Virgil’s eyes as he returned the look.

Scott grabbed Virgil’s nearest bicep in a surprisingly firm grip.  “I – I’m s – sorry,” he muttered.

Virgil shook his head.  “I told you, you don’t have to keep apologising, Scotty.  There are going to be lots of ups and downs.  Now, are you ready to move?”

Scott shook his head.  “N – no…”

“Okay, we can stay here for a bit if that’s what you want.”  He desperately wanted to ask him what had happened to cause this reaction, but didn’t want to push him when he was obviously feeling so very fragile.

It was quiet for a few more minutes then, as Virgil had hoped, Scott provided him with the required information.

“I… I didn’t recognise my – myself in… in the mirror.  Do… do I really look… look that bad?”

“Oh, Scotty,”  Virgil’s voice was filled with pain for his elder sibling.  “Listen to me, please.  You may think you look awful at this precise moment, but let me tell you, you look fantastic compared to how you looked when I first saw you.  You’re improving every day; you have to believe that.”  He noted how Scott rested a hand against his abdomen.

“I’m… I’m scarred, Virgil.”

“I know, but they’ll fade in time.  None of them are too bad, and dad said something about one of his inventors and a special cream he’s made that’ll help reduce their appearance even further, so you’ll be able to show off those incredible abs again.  Besides… you know the girls love a man with scars.  It shows he’s brave and has lived.  Never be afraid or ashamed to let anyone see your scars, Scotty, especially your family.  Now, come on, let’s get you back to bed before your dinner gets cold.  We’ve got to get some weight on you so we can take you home.”

Virgil disentangled himself from his brother, stood up and leant down to assist Scott to his feet, before slowly guiding him back to bed, where he tucked him in, then pulled the mobile table over his lap so he could eat his dinner.

Scott spent the next five minutes pushing food around his plate, his mind too busy churning over what he currently looked like to eat.  He knew he had been injured and extremely ill; they had told him a couple of times that he should have died and he suffered bouts of still wishing he had, especially when he had first become cognisant in the hospital.  Then that Scarlet fellow had paid him a visit and hadn’t held back in the ensuing conversation.  It hadn’t been like a slap in the face, more like a right hook and Scott had taken it all in; but every now and again, the doubt raised its ugly head and seeing himself for the first time in the mirror had most definitely been a shock, as had taking a really good look at his body.  He wasn’t vain, but he’d always taken pride in his appearance and had worked hard to obtain a body that women (and some men) had found exceedingly attractive but seeing the lack of tone, of muscle, the bones almost poking through sallow skin had been too much and he had allowed himself to sink into the realms of feeling sorry for himself.

Virgil was being a rock; the voice of reason.  Supporting him through his depression and wild mood swings and that just made Scott feel even worse.  He was the eldest, he had protected his siblings practically all his life; soothed their hurts, chased away nightmares and now the roles were reversed and he felt incredibly guilty.  When he looked at his middle and immediately younger brothers, all he saw was their love, affection and support for him.  It was incredibly humbling that they thought that much of him.  But the wild mood swings meant on some days he was appreciative of it, and on others he just wished they’d go away, so he could end it all and he despaired of ever getting rid of that feeling and maybe also a little scared.

“That fork doesn’t seem to be heading for your mouth any time soon,” Virgil said, breaking into his thoughts.  “Come on bro, I need to see some food going in.  You do want to go home, don’t you?”

Scott looked at him and saw nothing but hopefulness in the young features.  “Yeah… yeah of course I do,” he finally replied.

“Then eat up; get that food down you.  No weight gain, no going home.”

Somehow, Scott managed to force about half of it down before deciding he’d had enough.  It was bland and almost tasteless, but his digestive system wasn’t ready for anything with some real flavour in it yet.

“That was a fair attempt,” Virgil said as he handed him his water.

Oh how Scott wanted a coffee, but too was currently off the menu.  He was supposed to be resting in between his exercises and physio, not bouncing off the walls… or ceiling!

“Now, how about you get some more rest?”

Virgil’s cheerfulness was beginning to grate on Scott’s nerves.  He really just wanted him to go, so decided the best way to achieve that was to at least try and feign sleep.

“Yes, I am feeling tired again,” Scott said quietly.  “You must be too.  Why don’t you go and get your head down.”

“I’ll go get some once I know you’re asleep.  Grandma and dad will probably be back shortly to take over.”

He didn’t want them back… he didn’t want anyone back.  He just wanted to be left alone so he could wallow in self-pity, loathe the way he looked and felt; drown in the negative feelings; but he knew what his father would say.  Tracys’ don’t wallow, they’re strong, they fight, buck your ideas up, Scott!  Don’t let the side down…  He actually wanted to scream and/or shout to release the bottled up emotions, but he’d spent too long keeping everything locked inside.  It needed to come out, but he didn’t want to let it for fear of being found wanting, of being a disappointment, of being weak.  He’d broken down partly in front of Scarlet for which he was exceedingly embarrassed and vowed never to do that again, not realising that it was that he desperately needed to do if he ever wanted to fully recovery.  It all had to come out; every single, sordid detail of how it all unfolded, what he suffered, but instead he buried it deep, so that it would never see daylight.

There was a couple of things he’d neglected to remember however… The War Crimes Trial that was currently being put together, and his USAF debrief, both of which were yet to come.

His father and grandmother arrived a little later, took one look at Virgil and ordered him back to the hotel to get some food and some sleep.  He went grudgingly.

“How are you feeling, son?” Jeff asked him as he slowly approached the bed and carefully took hold of his hand.

“Tired,” he replied.

“That’s understandable.  Get some rest, it will do you the power of good.”  He squeezed Scott’s hand gently, then let him go.

Scott closed his eyes and attempted to slow and deepen his breathing so his father would think he was asleep.  Several minutes passed, and he heard his father whisper to his mother.

“Looks like he’s sleeping.”

He heard some movement, then his grandmother’s voice.  “No, he’s not,” she said.

Unconsciously, Scott flinched slightly.  He’d forgotten his grandmother knew him inside out, unlike his father who had been absent more time than present and thus was not as familiar with his tells.

“Hey, kiddo,” Sally said softly.  “Do you want something to help you sleep?”

He tried to pretend he was asleep, but Sally wasn’t having any of it.

“I know you’re not asleep, so you can stop pretending.”  She stroked his hand with her thumb and he swore silently, then cracked open his eyes.  “There you are.  Do you want me to see if I can get you anything?”

He shook his head.  “I’ll be all right, grandma.”

“You sure now?”

“Yes.  I’m sure.”

“If you change your mind…”

“I won’t.”

There was a knock on the door, then it opened to admit a nurse.  She was carrying a tablet, and approached the bed, a slightly nervous smile on her face.

“Captain Tracy,” she began, addressing Scott.  “I’ve been asked to inform you that your commanding officer and the JAG team will be returning tomorrow for your debriefing.  They will be here at 10:00 am.”

She paused as she saw the panicked expression appear on Scott’s face, and his breathing hitched.

“This is unacceptable!” Jeff exploded and then froze as Scott hunched over on himself at the loud noise.  He took a deep breath to get his temper back under control and carried on in a harsh whisper.  “He’s not ready for this!  You can’t allow them to put him through this yet!  He’s refusing to talk about it to the therapist.”

“I’m sorry, I’m only delivering the message,” the nurse answered.

“Jeff,” Sally interrupted.  “Calm down, you’re not helping Scotty.”  She was rubbing circles on Scott’s back in an effort to stop him from spiralling into a full blown panic attack.

“Captain Tracy’s therapist will be present to help him through the debrief,” the nurse added.

            “Is anyone else permitted to be in attendance?” Jeff asked, tightly.

“Like whom?”

“Me.  I want to be present to support my son.”

“N – no!” Scott gasped out.  “Not you!”

Jeff turned and looked at him.  “Scott, you’ll need the support of your family for this.  Let me.”

“No… I don’t want… don’t want you to… to hear what… what happened.”

“Son, I already have a good idea from the JAG meeting about what it’s going to contain.  I can take whatever comes out.”

“I’ll let Colonel Henderson and Major Clarke know.  I’m sorry,” she added, then turned and left the room.

Jeff studied his son who was trembling and staring fixedly at a point lower down his bed.  “Son, it’ll be okay, trust me.”

Scott shook his head.  “You – you don’t understand… there’s stuff… I don’t want you to hear… I’m… I’m…”  He couldn’t complete the sentence.  How did he tell his father that he was scared he would be disappointed in him, in the way he had conducted himself.  He had never received the approval he craved; needed from his father.  What he had achieved in his young life so far just wasn’t enough for the great Jefferson Tracy.  If he heard what he might be forced to divulge, he would never hear it; would never be good enough to deserve it.

Jeff could see he was struggling to keep his emotions in check.  “Son, I promise you, there is nothing you could say that will shock me, I give you my word.”  He lay a hand on his shoulder, ignoring the violent flinch before Scott got himself back under control.

“May – maybe not, but… you’ll…”

“I’ll what?” Jeff asked.

Sally could see that Scott was desperately trying to maintain his control, but her son’s questioning was making him escalate again.  “Jeff, stop,” she ordered.

“Mom, I need to know what he is trying to say.”

“Leave it, Jefferson.  It’s something that Scotty is afraid of.”  She paused as Scott shot her a fearful glance and knew she was right.  “Scotty, how about if I support you?”

He shook his head.

“Son, you can’t face this debrief alone.” Jeff cut in with and noted with concern, that his eldest was starting to rock backwards and forwards.

“Jeff, I’m ordering you to stop, now,” Sally hissed quietly.  She gave him ‘the look’ and he kept quiet.  “Scotty, who would you like to be with you tomorrow?  You must have one of us with you, for support.”

Scott shook his head.  “I – I can’t… I can’t inflict…”

“Listen to me, Scotty.  Any of us will volunteer to be with you and support you.  I promise no one will pass judgement—” she paused as she saw him throw a glance at Jeff and the penny dropped.  “How about Virgil?  He was in the JAG interview along with Jeff.”

There was the slightest of nods.

“What?  No!  You’re both forgetting, this is a military debrief.  Civilians will not be allowed!” Jeff came back with.

“They either let Virgil attend, or it’s not happening,” Sally said firmly.  “Scott needs to be as comfortable as possible, and if he wants Virgil, then he will have Virgil with him.”  Sally folded her arms and glared at her son for a few seconds before returning her attention to her eldest grandson.  “Come on Scotty,” she said softly as she adjusted the bedding.  “It’s time for you to get some sleep.  I know it’s going to be a very difficult day tomorrow.  I’ll stay with you tonight, if you’ll let me; let’s see if we can keep those nightmares at bay, eh?”

Scott reluctantly allowed her to get him back under the bedding and even tuck him in lightly, before she kissed his forehead.

“I’ll be right here kiddo.  You’re safe, remember that.”  She sat down by his bedside.

“I’m staying too,” Jeff added quietly as he pulled a chair up and sat down next to his mother.

Sally leant sidewards and dimmed the lights and they settled down on their vigil.

The news of the debrief obviously upset Scott.  He woke up screaming, but not for his interrogators to stop, but begging his father.  Jeff jumped up, wondering what on earth Scott was begging for, but as Scott’s eyes flew open, tears flowing freely, he took one look at his father, and threw himself from the bed to huddle in a corner, his hands clutching his head as he tried to make himself as small as possible.

Jeff looked on horrified and then his heart shattered into a million pieces as Scott sobbed.

“P – please dad… p – pl -please… don’t…”

Based of this prompt list by @azzurina . I got 10 prompts in!

~

Scott stayed where he was.

It wasn’t a choice on his part - his hands bound behind him and the goons on either side keeping him pinned down on his knees meant that decision was made for him - but it didn’t stop him glaring at his captor.

The Hood merely stared back, the smallest uptick of a smile the only outward sign that he was finding Scott’s position amusing.

He stepped forward and crouched down, millimetres from Scott’s ear, and spoke softly. It was creepy and Scott barely managed to suppress his shudder as the man’s breath tickled his ear.

Inspired by comments from @thebirdfantasy and @womble1 on Wings & Feathers. Unfortunately their comments won’t work with Marks & Wings…but that’s doesn’t mean it won’t work with Eagle!Scott. With thanks to @mariashades for allowing me to use her lore of 'weres needing to eat raw meat, and for her and @the-original-sineater for the read-throughs.

This is a standalone series that isn’t canon with my Transformation series.

~ ”Really little babies sure are ugly” was the thought that ran through Jeff’s mind as he held his three-day-old carefully.

He yawned widely as he regarded the wrinkled object of his thoughts. As if he’d known his father was thinking about him Scott’s eyes seemed to focus on Jeff…and he screwed up his face and began to cry in earnest.

‘I’m sorry! I’m sorry, Daddy didn’t mean it, Scotty!’

Jeff repeated the refrain over and over while gently jiggling the affronted tot, but Scott would not be comforted.

Eventually Lucy appeared. Even freshly woken up from her nap earlier than hoped for she looked radiant. And as Lucy took Scott and settled him to her breast Jeff could help but fall in love with her all over again.

Nor could he stifle a little grumble at how easily Scott had stopped fussing…

Inspired by this post. With thanks to @edutainer2022

~

Blue eyes flashed, hard and as unforgiving as a glacier, but Virgil was made of sterner stuff and he merely folded his arms, raised an eyebrow and waited.

The hatred in the eyes didn’t diminish but the body sagged and he knew he’d won this round…

Virgil has a bit of a meltdown in this chapter; Sally reminisces, Virgil and Scott have the beginnings of a talk...

Earlier chapters may be found on AO3 here.

Warnings for t his chapter: Mental anguish, anger, angst, some swearing and of course... love. Enjoy!

Chapter  7 – The Truth of the Matter

Jeff forced Virgil to go and get some fresh air; take a walk; calm down and get something to eat before he returned to Scott’s room.  The young man wanted a punch bag to vent his anger on at what the officer from JAG had put his brother through, and what had been done to him in Bereznik.  What was worse, he knew it wasn’t over, because he still hadn’t had his debrief of the actual mission.  That was likely to set Scott’s recovery back even further.  All Virgil knew, was that if he ever met Mendelski in person, he would literally kill him!  Which was saying something, considering the gentle man abhorred violence, but seeing the state Scott was in after that interview and the injuries his brother had sustained whilst interned in the camp, he reckoned he could make an exception and rise to the occasion.

Virgil walked for a number of hours to try and relieve the tension, anger and rage, but it didn’t work.  He came back to the hospital, and sat on a bench on the green opposite, raked his fingers through his hair, then put his head in his hands.  He let the tears and the sobs come, hoping they would help lessen the raging torment of emotions flooding through him.

He had admired Scott his entire life; his honesty, his love, his support and his bravery.  Scott may think himself weak and useless at the moment, but in his brother’s eyes he had been so brave to endure that interview… or was it more like an interrogation?  He’d managed to hold it together right until that photo of Mendelski was shown to him, but even then, he’d still managed to answer the questions.

The thought of that man touching his brother intimately made him shudder violently, especially knowing Scott couldn’t do a thing to stop it, strung up like he was.  But it could have been so much worse; Mendelski could have raped him, and Virgil almost lost it again as the horrific vision flashed through his brain.

Oh God!  How he wanted to scream; let all his anger out… but he was in a public place, so he had to hold it in and it was then he wondered and marvelled at how his big brother usually kept his feelings tightly locked down.  Instead, he clasped his hands together and did something he rarely did.  Prayed.  He prayed to their mother and their grandfather, to help Scott; to give him the strength and resolve to get through this; to recover as much as possible; but it was going to be an uphill struggle.

Suddenly, he became aware of someone standing close.  He made a valiant effort to get his emotions under control and looked up into the very concerned face of his grandmother.  How she had managed to find him he didn’t know, but somehow she had.  He quickly wiped a hand across his eyes, but it was too late, she had seen.

Sally sat down beside him and squeezed the hand that was resting on his knee.  “You all right, kiddo?” she asked him quietly.

He shook his head.  “N – no,” he whispered back.

“That’s okay,” she replied.  “Jeff’s told me what went on with Scott.  That must have been… difficult to listen to.”

“Oh God, it was awful, grandma!  Major Clarke was very sympathetic and treated Scott with respect and… well it seemed like he was genuinely sorry to be interviewing him and asking him the questions he did, but… I – I didn’t know that about… about Mendelski… the assaults… the rape.  I know he didn’t do the latter to Scott, but I can’t get it out of my head, of Scott helpless and that man…”  He started sobbing and Sally put her arms around him and hugged him close.

“It’s all right, it didn’t happen, you have to remember that, but go ahead and get it out of your system, you’ll feel better, trust me.”

“I swear though… if I ever find that man, I’m gonna fucking kill him!”  The words were spoken with such venom; Sally was taken aback.  Never had she heard Virgil speak like that and it was then she realised how deeply affected he was as well.  Perhaps he too needed to speak to a therapist to get the anger and pain out.

She didn’t say anything, just continued to hold him until he had regained some semblance of control again, but it would be something to be addressed at a later time.

“Feeling a little better now?” she asked softly.

He shook his head, not trusting himself to speak.

“I know you’re still angry and upset, but we mustn’t let Scotty see it.  It will distress him even more.  Now, when was the last time you ate something?”

“I’m not hungry,” Virgil immediately came back with.

“Listen to me, young man.  Scott wants to come home, and if he does, we all need to be on our top game, because it’s going to be rough for all of us, so you need to make sure you take care of yourself, or you’re not going to last the course.  It’s still very early days and we don’t know how quickly Scott’s going to recover.  It could take months, or even years and—”

“There’s a chance he’ll never recover from this.  God, I hope that isn’t the case but… but I’ll take whatever there is left of him, rather than not have him at all, grandma.”

“That’s my boy.  We’re a tight knit family, with a whole lot of love to share.  I’m convinced if we can continue to stick together, we can get Scott through this; we can all get through it and come out better the other side, but to do that, we all need to look after ourselves.  Scott would never forgive himself if any of us made ourselves ill worrying or fretting about him, you know that.  So come on, let’s get something to eat.”

She released him, stood up and held out a hand.  He studied it for a number of seconds, then gave a huge sigh, took it and stood up himself, towering over her.

“I swear you get taller every day!” she joked as she began to lead him back towards the hospital.

“But I’ll never be as tall as Scotty or John,” he came back with.

“No,” she conceded.  “Alan looks like he might, though!”  She looked sad for a few moments.

Virgil saw her pain and immediately asked her what was wrong.

She was silent for a number of seconds, as if remembering something.

“Talking about tall grandsons… I remember when Scotty was born and your mom and dad brought him home.  Grant was so excited to be a grandpa, he was Scotty’s permanent babysitter.  He used to carry him everywhere, your dad hardly got a look in.  Grant said Scott was going to be a tall one.  Even as a baby he was all long legs and arms.  Said he wouldn’t be surprised if he reached six four.  Jeff wouldn’t have that, so they had a bet.  Grant never got to collect his winnings.”  She sighed, lost for a moment in the memory, then pulled herself together and patted Virgil’s arm.  “You were his favourite though… you were Grant’s mini-me in almost every way.  When I look at you, I see him and it makes me feel like I haven’t lost him.  Same features, same colour hair and eyes, same build… if you hadn’t been born before he died, I’d have sworn you were him reincarnated.”

“Grandma… I’m sorry,” Virgil mumbled.

“Virgil, honey.  You have nothing to be sorry for.  I feel blessed to have you in my life, and don’t you ever doubt that; you’re like your grandpa in every way.  My Grant lives on in you and for that I will be forever grateful.”

Virgil couldn’t seem to find the right words to respond with, so instead, he squeezed her hand, leant over and placed a kiss on the top of her head.  “Love you grandma,” he finally managed to mumble.

They made their way to the cafeteria and although Virgil tried his best, he just picked at his food, his mind still whirling with the vision of his big brother being assaulted by that monster.  He just couldn’t get it out of his head and it was beginning to mess with his mind.

Sally reached out and took hold of one of his hands.  “Stop thinking about it,” she whispered as if she knew exactly what was going on in his head.

“I – I can’t!” Virgil came back with.  “He’s always been so strong and… and I just can’t get the vision of him being strung up like a piece of meat, naked, being tortured and that bastard…”  He stood up abruptly, his chair scraping loudly on the floor.  “I need to be with him.”  He turned and almost ran from the cafeteria, leaving a worried Sally frowning after him.

Virgil didn’t slow his pace until he was standing outside Scott’s room, where he stopped, closed his eyes and practiced slow breathing to try and get himself back under control, because he knew, if Scott was awake and aware, he would pick up on his mood and question him about it and he knew he couldn’t bring the subject up again.  At least, not yet.  Not until they were both more ready.  He took one final deep breath, then knocked quietly and opened the door.

Scott was still sitting up in bed, but his gaze was vacant and Virgil’s heart fell through his boots.  Jeff turned his head, saw who it was and carefully got up from his chair at his eldest’s bedside and went over to his middle child, and pulled him back outside the room.

“He’s shutdown, hasn’t he?” Virgil whispered, feeling near to tears, and silently cursing the JAG officer.

Jeff sighed.  “Yes.  At least for the moment.  He just needs to sort through his emotions, then I think he will come back to us.  I have to believe that.”

“Take a break, dad.  I’ll sit with him.”

Jeff looked into his eyes and saw his son was exhausted.  “When was the last time you slept?” he asked gently.

“It doesn’t matter.  I’ll get some later… when you come back, but don’t rush, dad.  I’ll be all right, honestly.”

Jeff wavered in his decision for a few seconds, then reluctantly nodded, patted his son’s arm and walked off down the corridor.

Virgil watched him go, then turned and went back into Scott’s room.  His brother hadn’t moved from his position, so Virgil began a commentary; that he was approaching the bed, and taking hold of his hand, which he did.

“Hey, Scotty,” he said softly, allowing his thumb to gently stroke the back of his brother’s hand.  “I’m here for you bro, like you’ve been there for me—for all of us.  Please let me in.  I want to help you get better.  Please, Scotty.  I love you so much and I can’t bear to see you like this.”  He sniffed loudly as the tears threatened to fall again.  “I – I can’t live without you in my life… please.”  A big fat tear dripped off his face and onto the back of Scott’s hand, followed by another.

It took a few moments, but then Scott blinked and glanced down at his hand, seeing the wetness there and he unconsciously squeezed Virgil’s hand back.  Despite his desire to be gone from the world, his deeply ingrained love for his family and especially for his best friend won the battle.

“Don – don’t cry, Virg,” his whispered almost inaudibly.

“Scotty!” Virgil went to hug him, then froze and hurriedly added.  “I’m gonna hug you, real tight, Scotty!”  He somehow managed to restrain himself from throwing his arms around his big brother and moved very slowly.  Once Scott was enfolded in his arms he mumbled, “I – I thought I was gonna lose you, Scotty.”  He gave another sob as his brother’s arms returned the hug.

“I – I don’t know how this is gonna play out,” Scott murmured.  “I – I can’t seem to think straight.  One second I feel like… well like me, and the next I’m back… there… and it’s too much… and I wish I was… and I see… I see that bastard’s face… and feel his hands…” Scott shuddered as the memories resurfaced.  “And then… I hear… I hear them mocking me… as I’m lying in that cold, dark cell… whispering… telling me to let that bastard… and I try to let… let the darkness take me… but then… your voice… your voice keeps calling me back, Virgil… even though I tried to make it all stop.  I am so ashamed!  I… I even considered that… that bastard’s offer… only for a fraction of a second… but I’m ashamed I even thought it.  What – what kind of person am I?”

“One… one that was suffering incredible pain, Scotty.  I don’t blame you for wanting the pain to stop; I would never blame you for thinking about his offer but in the end, you didn’t take him up on it.  You were strong enough to resist him and I am so proud of you; for refusing him; for staying alive; for coming back to us, and now we’re gonna help you get better.”

“I want… I want to get better, Virg.  Really, I do… but… but I keep disappearing into this black hole; back into my nightmares and I’m scared… scared that I’m too broken… and can’t be fixed.  What if… what if I can’t be fixed, Virg?  What if that black hole consumes me?  I can’t… I can’t live like this!  I jump at every sound, cower at a raised voice… I can’t go into the bathroom because of the shower in there and what water means… I don’t wanna be like this, Virg.  I really don’t, but I don’t know… don’t know what to do… I’m failing… failing all of you… I’m sorry…”

Virgil’s heart splintered as the brother in his arms dissolved into gut wrenching sobs, but then he realised this was what Scott needed.  He needed to rage, and cry and scream and shout; get all those negative emotions out in the open air so he could start healing.  He had to talk about his experience rather than bottle it all up, which is what he usually did.  This was way to big to do that with, it all had to come out, every single ugly little detail, so that he could be rebuilt back to the man he was; strong, loving, caring, protective, fearless; a born leader.  Virgil would follow him into hell and back and that hell started here, in this room.

“Listen to me, Scott Tracy,” Virgil came back with, his voice shaking with emotion.  “I’m here, your family is here, and we’re going to make you better.  You say you want to get better, then let us help you.”  He tightened his hug even more.  “To start healing, you need to get all that blackness out of your heart; out of your mind… Scotty, you need to start talking about—”

“No!”

“Yes!  And I’ll be right by your side every step of the way, if you’ll let me, so you’re not alone.  Together we can beat this.  Whatever you say, will stay in this room, between you, me and the therapist, but you’ve got to get it out.  You’re not weak, you’re so very strong.  I don’t think you realise just how strong you are, even now, but sure, you’re scared as well.  I promise, no one will judge you, no one else will see what you perceive as weakness—which it isn’t.  Please Scotty, I’m begging you.”  Virgil kissed the top of his head.  “None of us want you to disappear into that black hole, and we’ll do everything in our power to stop it happening and… and I swear to you, I will follow you in there and drag you back out if you feel it’s swallowing you.”

Silence reigned for a number of seconds, then: “I – I’ll think about it.”

Virgil began to rock him gently.  “Thank you,” he whispered.  He went to straighten up and let go, but Scott hugged him tighter and refused to relinquish his hold on his bear of a brother.

“Stay?” he asked in a small voice.  “I don’t want to be alone, and… with you here… you… you might help keep the nightmares at bay.”

“I promise I won’t leave you… but may I join you on the bed, this position is pretty uncomfortable.”

“O – o – kay,” came the immediate reply.

Scott wouldn’t let go of him completely as his brother carefully got himself laid out next to him and maintained the hug all the while.

“There, that’s better; much more comfortable,” Virgil mumbled.

Scott lay with his head over Virgil’s heart so he could both hear and feel its strong, steady beat and gradually he relaxed.  Virgil began to hum softly.  Scott’s eyes gradually closed, his breathing deepened, and Virgil realised he had fallen asleep.  He sighed in relief and kissed the top of Scott’s head, closing his eyes for a few moments.  Those few moments stretched on… and on…

When Jeff returned with Sally, they opened the door and found the two men wrapped in one another’s arms, fast asleep.  He turned and smiled at his mother and instead of entering the room, closed the door and left the two alone to sleep peacefully.  Perhaps all was not lost after all.  Perhaps there was some light at the end of that very long tunnel.  Jeff prayed with everything he possessed that this was true and that he would get his Bluejay back at some point in the near future.

Inspired by this prompt from @dailycreativeprompts

~

Grandfather’s farm was vast.

Huge swathes of wheat…

He grew up there.

Sometimes the wheat was taller than he was

Hiding him from concerned eyes.

Totally, completely responsible 🙂‍↔️ just in case @ilikebigshipsandicannotlie is reading.

I found this in my AU folder and am unsure if I've published it before. I can't find it here or on AO3 and I have refined it so here is Part One of Thunder Town, a Wild West AU.

~

He sat in the saddle, wrists crossed and barely resting on the horn of his saddle. He shifted slightly, causing the pinto to toss his head a little. Scott leaned forward and gently patted his neck, making soothing sounds and the horse went back to cropping the grass.

Scott sighed contentedly at the sight before him.

He’d been away for a while and coming home always made his heart soar. The small town lay before him – from his vantagepoint he could see the whole place – and he looked over and picked out the buildings that were important to him.

As the drugs drain out of Scott's body, the nightmares begin... but will the arrival of an unexpected visitor help him at all?

Warnings for this chapter: Plenty of angst, some swearing, mental health issues, self loathing. You have been warned!

Previous chapters may be found on AO3 here.

Chapter 5 – You Don’t Have To Do This Alone

“Scotty,” Sally said softly as she approached the bed slowly.  “It’s so good to see you awake, kiddo.”

Jeff moved back out of the way to let her get near her grandson.  She approached him slowly and also carded her fingers through his hair before advising him that she was going to lean over and kiss his forehead if he was okay with that.

He nodded somewhat nervously and she continued to tell him what she was doing, as she leant over and kissed his forehead.

“Welcome back.”  She smiled warmly, softly, reassuringly at him and saw his bottom lip tremble as he fought to maintain control of his emotions and failed yet again.

Tears flowed once more as he gazed into her kind, hazel eyes filled with love and affection for him.

“Gran – Grandma,” he mumbled, tears still flowing.  “I – I’m sorry.”  It was whispered so quietly, she almost didn’t hear it.

“You don’t have to apologise for anything, Scotty.  All you need to do is concentrate on getting better, understand?”

He nodded.

Sally stared into his anxious blue eyes and for a few moments, she was reminded of the little boy who was her first grandson and the memory of him being able to wrap everyone round his little finger when he gave them the large, soulful expression.  Of course it was also assisted by his weapons of mass destruction, but they were currently hidden behind a shaggy unkempt beard that party disguised the awful gauntness in his face, but the hollows around his eye sockets clearly showed how ill he was.

“Are you in any pain?” she asked him softly.

“No,” he lied; his current pain was like a feeble ache in contrast to what he had suffered the last three months or so.

She raised an eyebrow at him and he swallowed nervously before confessing.

“It’s nothing, compared to….”  He couldn’t finish the sentence.

“Now you listen to me, young man,” Sally started, going into ‘doctor’ mode.  “You’ve been through a hell of an ordeal and you need to rest in order to help you recover, and that means plenty of nice, relaxing sleep, so I’ll ask you again.  Are you in any pain?”

His eyes lowered for a few seconds, then lifted again to look at her.

“A little,” he finally confessed, “but please,  Grandma, I don’t want anything, I need to stay in control, you understand don’t you?  Please don’t take that away from me, please!  I need to stay awake… I’m… I’m scared to close my eyes and sleep… scared that all this isn’t… isn’t real and… and he’s drugged me and playing mind games… again…”

Jeff’s heart shattered into a million pieces.  What else had that bastard Mendelski done to his son?

Sally moved back to where his notes were kept, picked up the tablet and checked when he had last had some pain medication and what the dosage had been.

“I understand, Scotty, but you need to rest and that means being pain free.”  She returned to his side, went to place a comforting hand on his arm and then froze as he flinched.

“Sorry,” they both said together, which resulted in the barest of a smile from both of them.

“Don’t apologise, kiddo.  That was all my fault, I didn’t warn you.”

“But I shouldn’t be afraid to receive a hug or touch from my family!”  He was becoming agitated and upset at the thought.  They were such a tactile family but at the moment, he couldn’t bear the thought of anyone laying  finger on him, let alone giving him a hug unless they gave him plenty of warning of their intentions and even then he wasn’t sure he could take it.

“It’s going to take time, don’t worry about it; but I have every confidence in you, Scotty, you’re going to get through this and over it.”

“Do you really think so?  Because Grandma I…” He stopped, closed his eyes and took a deep breath before continuing in a tiny voice that reminded Sally so much of a twelve year old grandson after he had regained consciousness in a hospital far away after the avalanche that had killed his mother and grandfather, it brought tears to her eyes; “I… I think I’m broken and can’t be fixed.”

“Scotty, don’t,” she replied equally as quietly.  Behind her, she hadn’t seen Jeff flinch violently.  “Don’t say that.  You’ve not long come out of a coma, and I’m not going to lie to you, you have been seriously injured, but it’s temporary.  You will be well again.”  The final sentence was said with complete confidence.

“In body… maybe… but… but…” he was getting upset at the thought about his damaged mental state.

“Son, don’t think about it like that,” Jeff interjected, coming forward, but Sally raised a hand and stopped him.

“Scott, do you want to get better?”

He nodded, and tears rolled down his cheeks once more.

“Okay then.  I’m going to give you a hug now, are you going to be all right with that?” she asked him.

He was breathing hard as he attempted not to break down further, then winced as his ribs protested at the movement.  “I – I d – don’t know,” he whispered.

“Let’s give it a go, shall we?  I promise I’ll stop if it becomes too much, okay?”

His breathing was ragged, the heart monitor blipped in protest.

“Come on now, calm down.”  Sally glanced back at the monitor and watched as the rate began to slow down again and went green.  “That’s better.  Right, here I come, nice and slowly,” she said as she began a detailed narrative of what she was doing; that she was placing an arm around his left shoulder, another behind on his neck to draw him close.  At first he was rigid in her arms and then he gradually relaxed and leant into her drawing comfort from the offered hug.  “There,” she said after a few minutes, “that wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“N – no Grandma.  It… it was nice.. it is nice,” he mumbled, somewhat embarrassed.  It had felt real enough and she smelt like… well like his grandma; she sounded like her; looked like her.  Perhaps it was all real after all.

“Then I shall write you a prescription for us to give you lots and lots of hugs until you get totally used to them again,”  She smiled down at him.  “Now, how about you get some more rest.  It will do you the world of good.”

“I – I’m scared to close my eyes,” he confessed in a whisper.  “I – I can’t get it out of my mind that this is some kind of drugged hallucination and that I’ll wake up and be back… back in that place.”

Sally turned her head and glanced at Jeff, and saw the brightness in his eyes at that confession.

“I don’t know how to convince you that this is all real and that you’re safe, Scotty.  But squeeze me tight, and tell me it doesn’t feel real.  Come on, hug me back.  I’m a tough old bird; I can take it.”

He did as he was told, and tightened his hold on her, mindful of his splintered fingers.

“See, I’m still here, kiddo.  Do you want me to pinch you and see if that makes any difference?”

“Yes, I think I’d like that.”

“Okay, where doesn’t it hurt?”

“Here isn’t too bad,” he said indicating his left lower arm.

“Okay, one pinch coming up, you’ve been warned.”

“Ooowww!” he exclaimed as she obliged and did as he asked.

“Convinced?”

“Yeah, I think so but… tell me something that only you and I know.”

Sally stared at him.  “Mmmm,” she said.  “Now what can I choose?  Oh, I know… how about the day when you were fourteen and I caught you in the hayloft trying to make out with Mandy… oh what was her last name… Mandy… Evans, that’s it.”

“What?” Jeff asked, engaging his mouth before attempting to put his brain in gear.  “You didn’t tell me about that, mom!”

“No, I didn’t.  Scott got the lecture from me, he didn’t need it from you as well,” Sally responded.

“Son, if I’d have known…” Jeff began

“Yeah, you’d have tanned my hide and given me a lecture about respecting women/girls,” Scott replied, as he managed to blush deeper.  “In my defence, it was her idea, and I guess my raging hormones just got the better of me.”

“Well, that’s all in the past now,” Sally said, a soft smile on her face.  “The last I heard, she was married with three kids.  The important thing is… do you now believe where you are?”

Scott frowned for a moment, then relaxed.  “Yes, I have to believe it now, though… it’s still hard to…” his voice trailed off as his breathing quickened and tears appeared in his eyes again.

“Son, it’s all over now, I promise you,” Jeff said, placing a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to ground him and calm him down.

“Wh – what’s wrong with me?  I can’t… I can’t seem to control the way I’m feeling… it’s all too much…”

“You’re in deep shock, Scotty,” Sally replied.  “Your mind is trying to come to terms with the fact that you’re now safe.  You’ve been through a lot and it’s the brain’s way of trying to sort everything out.  You know, it would help if you spoke to someone, to help you get through it all.”

“NO!  I never want to think about it or talk about it again!  You can’t make me!”

“Steady, Scooter,” Jeff said squeezing his shoulder a little more firmly.  “Son, you have to understand, you’re going to have to go through some form of debriefing about your experience and your mission, but not until you’ve recovered a little more.  It’s standard procedure, you know that.”

Scott’s face scrunched up in mental agony at the thought.  “I – I can’t,” he gasped.  “I – I can’t.  Don’t make me!  Please don’t make me!”

“Jeff, that’s enough for now,” Sally said firmly.  “He’s only just come out of a coma.  He needs time to readjust and settle.”  She smiled at Scott.  “Don’t worry,” she said to him.  “No one’s coming to debrief you for a long while,” and was relieved when her grandson began to calm down again, ignoring the look that Jeff was giving her, because he knew that wouldn’t be the case.

There had been a number of arrests and Jeff knew the Judge Advocate General’s Office would be knocking on the door sooner, rather than later.  War crimes had been committed, and although the eventual trial would be held at The Hague, he knew that an officer from JAG would be carrying out their own investigation as well because US military personnel had been directly affected.

“There, that’s better.  Now, you try and get some sleep.  One of us will always be with you, Scooter, okay?  A familiar face will stay with you at all times.”

He nodded, too drained to make a verbal response.

She helped settle him down, and carded her fingers through his long, unruly mop of hair, watching as he slowly closed his eyes and began to relax, still enfolded in her arms.

When she was convinced he was asleep, she very gently disentangled herself, moved to the end of the bed and studied his notes again.

“I noticed earlier that Scotty hasn’t been on morphine,” she said to Jeff, frowning.  “He can have it; it only sends him a little doolally when there’s a specific combination of drugs.  I’ll speak to Major Sinclair about switching him over, if he’ll take it.  It’ll make him more comfortable and allow him to get some rest.”  She glanced at her grandson again and watched as sleep slowly began to claim him.

Although the sedatives were draining from Scott’s body, they were still affecting him and having received a tearful hug from his grandmother, Scott succumbed to a more natural sleep.  The quiet after the noise of the machine that had been breathing for him was switched off was almost deafening.

Scott’s breathing was still slightly rasping, but the fluid in his lungs had almost gone now and he was practically over his double pneumonia.

There was a slight frown on his face as he slept and Sally wondered if it was the pain, or something else.  Her eldest grandson had refused any further pain medication even though he had to be suffering quite a lot, especially after his recent surgery.

Sure that he was asleep, Jeff let John and Virgil in, motioning with a finger against his lips to be quiet, but the fact that the intubation tube had been removed was reassuring to them that there had been improvement in their brother’s health.

He still looked awful; there was no better way of describing it and it made Virgil’s heart ache.  He had brought a sketch book and some pencils with him, but the drawings he had made so far had been dark, morbid; the things of nightmares, but he kept them, because it was all part of the healing process of his own mind now that Scott had been rescued and appeared to be improving.

The one thing that Sally did do, was get rid of his beard.  She’d got the doctor to administer a sedative whilst he was asleep so that it could be done as the sight of a cutthroat razor would have probably sent him into a full blown panic attack.  Now, despite the thinness, he did at least look something like her eldest grandson again.  The dimples were so very much deeper due to the gauntness in his face, but they were there.

Both John and Virgil had been present when Scott had woken next, but he was still groggy and didn’t seem to register the fact that they were there.  His blue eyes seemed dull and lifeless, but Virgil put that down to the fact his brother was still feeling the effects of the drugs that had been in his system for over ten days.  It was rather unnerving to have him staring right through them as if they weren’t there, but they were optimistic that this would change in a short while.  At that precise moment though, he wouldn’t speak to them, wouldn’t look at them and it upset them deeply.

“He’s still adjusting,” Sally told a weeping Virgil outside Scott’s room.  “You have to give him time, he’s literally been through hell and it’s not something he’s going to shake off in a couple of days.”

“Will… will he ever recover?” Virgil asked, wiping the tears viciously from his eyes.  “I want Scotty back!  That man… that man in there isn’t Scotty!  He’s a total stranger!”

“Hopefully, with time,” Sally tried to reassure him.

“Hopefully?” Virgil questioned.  “You mean… you mean he might be like that forever?”

“Virgil, my darling, we have to face facts.  We are all hoping and praying that our Scott will return to us, but what he’s been through will have had life changing effects on him.  We can’t imagine what he’s been through, so it could take months, even years, for him to recover mentally, or…” her voice trailed off.

“Or he could never recover… that’s what you were going to say, wasn’t it?”

She nodded.  “There is that possibility, but I believe he will recover.  He’s a Tracy; that Irish stubbornness is ingrained in his genes.  It may take a while, but I have faith in him; we all have to have faith in him; give him our full support, our love; show him how much he means to all of us, and I think he will come back to us.  Maybe he won’t be exactly like the Scott we remember from before, but pretty close to it.”

Virgil chewed his lip and looked at his elder brother who was standing, leaning against the wall of the corridor, arms folded, looking very serious, and in that moment, he decided it was time to learn about mental illness and recovery, so he could help Scott recover.

That night, in the hotel suite, he started investigating and downloaded a Wellness Recovery Action Plan Workbook, which he read from cover to cover, to find out what it all entailed.  There was a collection of strategies, activities, and resources to help with both mental and physical recovery, such as relaxation techniques, coping mechanisms and enjoyable activities.

Also included was a daily maintenance plan with specific routines and habits to be followed on a daily basis; identifying triggers and early warning signs, a crisis plan, and a post crisis plan.

The workbook would need to be completed by Scott, where he wrote everything down in regard to the subjects above; what he enjoyed doing, his triggers, his safe places, people he wanted involved, even listing those he didn’t want involved and the reasons.  He also had to set goals for himself, whether they be physical or mental; like being able to run a mile again, to get back in a jet and fly; things to stretch him and enable him to grow.  It was a long list, but Scott had four brothers, his dad, his grandma and his sister and her dad to help.

As the days slowly passed, Scott began to come out of his drugged state, and that was when reality really hit him.  Hard.  Like an express train running at full speed.

His mind was locked on replaying those 13 weeks of hell.  Even just closing his eyes made the images flash before him, so he tried to stay awake, because when he slept the nightmares came, that had him screaming in imagined pain, moaning in denial; his limbs flailing as he attempted to get loose from his imagined chains and bindings.

The first time Virgil had stayed with him and the nightmares occurred resulted in the younger man suffering a black eye as he’d attempted to hug him, hoping that would soothe him.  Scott had fought and screamed to be free.

“Don’t!  DON’T TOUCH ME YOU PERVERTED BASTARD!” he had screamed, then he had flinched as if he was being struck, time and time again.

A doctor and a couple of male nurses had arrived and pinned the sick man down as he continued to scream at them.  Then he had suddenly woken up and immediately started hyperventilating.

Virgil stood in the corner, nursing his rapidly forming black eye, almost hyperventilating himself as he saw the terror in his big brother’s eyes and he tried and failed to break free.  When a nurse arrived with a sedative and attempted to inject him directly, the response was even worse as he begged and pleaded with her, his eyes wide with fear, not to inject him.

Jeff arrived at that point and saw his eldest son was petrified of the needle and tried to get her to leave, but she injected the sedative into the line instead.

“N – n – noooo… please… don’t… no drugs… please…” he’d cried as he attempted to knock the offending hypodermic out of her hand and failed.  “N – nooo,” he kept gasping, then his pitiful cries grew weaker as the sedative took effect and his eyes closed.

Virgil had almost rammed his fists into his mouth at this point; his distress for his big brother overwhelming him as Jeff hugged him and he fisted his hands into the back of his dad’s shirt, pulling it taut.

Jeff wasn’t best pleased with what the nurse had done.

“He could hurt himself and he was disturbing the other patients,” she said calmly as she left and Jeff vowed she wasn’t going to be allowed in the room again.

“I’m sorry we had to do that,” the duty doctor apologised.  “But he was in real danger of re-injuring himself.  I think, as soon as his leg is out of plaster, we should move him to a specialist psychiatric hospital.  They have the expertise to treat him.”

Jeff stood, gazing at his unconscious son, torn about what to do.

“If he doesn’t start talking to his counsellor, I don’t see what else we can do.  I’m sorry.”  He and the other nurses stayed another couple of minutes to ensure Scott was calm again and then left.

“No…” Virgil moaned.  “Not to a psychiatric hospital, dad, please.  Scott needs us.  I’ve been researching it all.  He needs friends and family, not total strangers.  He needs people who understand him; know his tells.  Please dad, let’s take him home, please!”

Jeff was actually thinking along the same lines, but could they cope?  They would need to literally watch him twenty-four seven to make sure he didn’t do anything to injure either himself or any of them.

“I’ll think about it, son,” he finally answered truthfully, knowing it would need a great deal of planning.

-o-o-o-

Scott was ‘different’ the following morning when he woke up.  He just lay in bed, staring at the ceiling.  He wouldn’t talk, wouldn’t look at anyone.  He shut down completely and lived in his own private hell, unwilling to subject his family to what he was going through.

This upset the family even more.  They knew he needed to let everything go, so he could start to recover, but he just would not acknowledge them, even though he knew how much it upset them; especially Virgil, who had sobbed and begged him to talk to him; to anyone, so he could get better and come home.  He kept telling him there was a way out of the darkness if he was willing to try it, but it seemed to fall on deaf ears.

Scott knew it was hurting his family badly and also that he had to stop it.  There was only one way that was going to happen, but he was so carefully monitored.  He wished he was dead.  Sure, his family would mourn, but they’d get over it eventually.  He was causing them so much pain, death would be a happy release and perhaps then, he too would be at peace.

His family watched as his health began to decline again.  They just didn’t know what to do.  Scott refused to eat, to talk, to do his exercises.  He continued to lie, zombie like in his bed, his mind filled with the horrors of his internment, silently begging for it to stop and his father despaired, especially when the youngest two kept asking how their big brother was doing and when they could see him.

Sally suggested it might be a good idea for Gordon and Alan to visit.  It could be that they could shock him into cooperating.  Scott had never liked upsetting his brothers, it might be just the trigger they needed, but Jeff was loathe to subject them to that, thinking it would be better for them to remember Scott as he used to be.

And so the days continued to pass.

It was Jeff’s turn to stay with his son, when he heard a soft knock on the door.  Scott was asleep again, so he called out softly for whomever it was to enter.

His eyebrows rose in surprise as a familiar figure came in, shutting the door quietly behind him.  “Captain Scarlet!”  Jeff stood up as the officer removed his cap and came forward, hand outstretched.

“Colonel Tracy, good to see you again, sir.  I hope you don’t mind; I was passing through the area and decided to make a slight detour to see how things were going.  I found out you were still here, so I assume Captain Tracy is recovering?”  He looked beyond Jeff to the young man laying quietly in the hospital bed.  There were various monitors, but the colour captain took in the fact that his breathing sounded so much better compared to how it had been when they had found him.

“It’s good to see you too.”  He sighed heavily.  “Scott was recovering slowly.  He gave us a couple of scares.  Stopped breathing, so had to be intubated, then he crashed…” Jeff took a deep breath.  Remembering it still made him shudder.  “He’s out of the coma now and breathing on his own, but having made a start at recovery, he’s deteriorating again and I really don’t know what to do.  It’s like he’s given up.”

Scarlet studied the sleeping man and decided he looked a thousand times better than he had when he last saw him.  He was now clean, and the bruises were almost gone; he still looked very emaciated, but now that the beard had been shaved off, he could see that he would be a handsome young man once he put the weight back on.

“The doctor is attempting to get him onto solid food, but it’s proving difficult.” Jeff sighed.  “Scott’s punishing himself for his perceived failure.  I keep telling him he hasn’t failed, that he’s not a disappointment but I might as well just be talking to myself because he’s not listening.”  He looked into Scarlet’s blue eyes; almost as blue as Scott’s.  “Captain, you were special ops, you’ve seen things that I haven’t… do you have any advice of how I can reach my son before he kills himself and destroys his brothers’ lives?”

Scarlet just about stopped himself from flinching.  That was a BIG ask.  “I think that would be more of a therapist’s expertise than mine, Colonel,” he replied carefully.

“Yes, but you’ve been in the field, you’ve been there.  I don’t know what else I can say to him to make him continue fighting to get well again.  May I… may I be frank with you?”

“Of course, sir.  Anything you wish to tell me will be in complete confidence.”

Jeff motioned him towards the chairs on the other side of the room and they went and sat down.  “It’s all right, he won’t wake up,” Jeff said seeing Scarlet glance towards the bed.  “They had to sedate him when Virgil tried to hug him and wake him from another nightmare.  He gave Virgil a black eye.  Scott won’t let any of us touch him now and we’re a tactile family.”  He sighed.  “I don’t know if it’s my fault… I must assume it is but you see… when the boys’ mother died, I… well I went off the rails, deserted my children and Scott had to step up.  We’d always encouraged him to take care of his younger brothers, but it went up exponentially after my wife died and he was left to look after them for almost a year… and… well look at him.  He can’t do anything for himself currently; he can’t look after his brothers… as far as he’s concerned he’s useless and a failure…”

“But his brothers are all adults now aren’t they?”

“Almost.  Alan turns 18 next March.”

Scarlet pondered for a few moments.  “Soooo… let me see if I have understood the situation correctly.  Scott is now currently totally reliant on his brothers and you, and he sees this as not being right because he’s always been there to take care of them and even you to some extent.  He believes he is failing in his duty.  He protects them and at the moment he can’t.  He can’t do anything for himself because of his injuries.”

“You have it in one.”

“I wonder if he would be happier speaking to a fellow military man who is a stranger.  Sometimes it’s easier to talk to someone you don’t know because they can’t judge you.  Other than that, I can put in a request for a chaplain to speak with him or even spend some time with him.  He is excellent at his job and I have found his counsel most beneficial.”

“That’s if he’ll even listen.  He’s hardly talking, hardly eating, it’s like…” Jeff swallowed as he attempted to keep an iron grip on his emotions.  “It’s like he’s trying to finish what his experience in that hellhole started and… commit suicide.  I can’t lose him Captain.  I just can’t.”

“Have you told him that?”

“No.”

“How about some reverse psychology?  If all else fails and he still won’t listen, send him on a guilt trip.  If he cares for his siblings as much as you say he does, that might shock him out of his stupor.  Perhaps mollycoddling him is the wrong way.  I have a little time.  If he wakes up before I have to leave, I could speak with him.  It can’t do any harm, can it?  You’re telling me he’s already on a downward spiral.”

“Captain, you are a ruthless man.”

“Thank you.  Now, why don’t you go and get some fresh air, and take any of your sons that are lurking, with you.  Come back in an hour, but don’t come in until I call.  I’ll stay here with him so he’s not alone.”

Jeff opened his mouth to protest, but the look Scarlet was giving him made him close it again.  He nodded and walked out.  On the threshold, he paused and looked back.  “I’ll make sure you’re not disturbed,” he said and closed the door.

Scarlet took a deep breath, got up from his seat and went and sat right by Scott’s bed.

Nothing happened for about 15 minutes, then Scarlet heard a change in his breathing and a whimper of pain.

“May I get you something?” Scarlet asked softly.

Scott’s eyes flew open, wide and fearful as he spotted the stranger sitting right by his bedside.  He didn’t recognise the uniform and his breathing hitched.

“It’s all right, Captain Tracy.  My name is Captain Scarlet and I’m with Spectrum.  Have you heard of us?”

Scott gave a nervous, shaky nod.

“I was in charge of the mission to recover all prisoners from your camp, and I guarded your father in his search for you.  I was passing in the general area and wanted to see how you were doing.  You’re looking a hell of a lot better compared to when I found you.”

Scott’s breathing evened out as he looked at the black haired, blue eyed man sitting by his side.  “You… you should have let me die there,” he mumbled in response.

“I’m afraid that wasn’t an option,” Scarlet replied.  “Your father moved hell and high water to accompany us.  He must have some good contacts, that’s all I can say.  Hey, would you like some water to drink?”

Scott shook his head and turned away.

“Scott—may I call you that?”

There was no response.

Time to apply the reverse psychology… here goes nothing. “I’m an only child myself and I’ve never had any siblings or relations close to my age, but seeing the love that your brothers have for you makes me feel jealous; that I’ve missed out on something.  How can you be so cruel to them?  Do you hate them that much?”

It had the desired effect, and Scott’s head turned to face him, his eyes blazing with anger.  “What the hell do you mean?  I LOVE my brothers, my family!”

“Well, you’ve sure got a funny way of showing it.  Your attitude has really upset them, and you’ve had your brother Virgil in tears.  I hope that piece of news pleases you.”

“You – you don’t understand!”

“Then explain it to me.  I’m really curious how an older brother who is loved by his family can reject them and cause them pain when he says he supposedly loves them.  Doesn’t sound like love to me.”

“Look at me, Captain!  LOOK AT ME!”

“I’m looking… so…?”

“I’m the eldest, I’m supposed to be the strong one, I’m the one who looks after the rest of my brothers!  I can’t even feed myself, or even go to the bathroom on my own!  I’m fucking useless!”

“You’ve been injured, it’s temporary, you’ll recover.  I can’t see what your problem is.”

“I can’t do my fucking job, Scarlet!”

“Only for a little while.  Tell me, who took care of your brothers when they got hurt?”

“I did, if it wasn’t too serious, then my Grandma helped.”

“I guess you used to change diapers, get them to school, tuck them up in bed, even feed them, right?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, so who took care of you?  Who looked after you when you got sick, or you had an accident?”

“I took care of myself.”

“Really?  Every single time?”

“Well… no… but—”

“Did your siblings ever offer you comfort?  Give you a hug?  Bring you a sandwich?  Just be there?”

“Yes, but—”

“So what’s different now?  You’ve just been hurt really badly, but you’ll mend.”

“I’M BROKEN, Scarlet!  I GAVE UP!  I WANTED TO DIE!”

“Well you didn’t do a very good job at dying did you?  You should have been dead when we found you, but something in you kept on fighting to stay alive.  You stopped breathing, you did actually die, but look, you’re still here, so there must have been a part of you wanted to keep on living!

“And you’re not broken, you’re just damaged.  You can be fixed; it’s just up to you on how fixed you want to be and your family want to help.  Or are you so far up your own arse wallowing in self-pity that you don’t care that you’re destroying your family, causing them pain because you’re rejecting them?  Your condition is temporary, Scott.  You will recover, but you don’t have to do this alone!  Stop being a total dick, get your shit together and let your family help you, like you’ve helped them.  It’s not too much to ask, is it?”

Scott was physically shaking and Scarlet began to wonder if he’d pushed just that bit too hard as the younger man screamed at him.  “GET OUT, SCARLET!  GET THE FUCK OUT AND LEAVE ME ALONE!  DAMN YOU!  GET OUT! GET OUT!  GET OUT!”  Then he burst into tears.

Scarlet took his life in his hands, stood up and carefully hugged him.

He was rewarded with a moan of denial.  “No… I don’t deserve…”

“Yes you do,” Scarlet said softly.  “You have your whole life ahead of you, Scott.  Don’t throw it all away.  Your family love you, they understand you’ve had a horrible time, that you have issues leaning on them, like they’ve leant on you, but now they want to give something back to you.  Let them be there for you.  You don’t have to do this alone.  Don’t shut them out, you’re only hurting them by doing that.  Okay?”

Scarlet went to release him and straighten up, but Scott managed to throw his right arm around him.  “No… don’t go… don’t leave me…” he whispered.  “I – I don’t want to be alone anymore.  Please… help me…”

“Okay, okay, it’s all right.  May I call for your father?”  The Spectrum officer felt a head nod feebly against his chest.  “All right.”  He turned his head and called out.  “Mr Tracy!  Would you come in, please?”

The door opened slowly, and Jeff peered in.  Scarlet motioned him over and he did as he was asked, shocked to see that he was hugging his son, who was openly sobbing his heart out.

“Here you go, Scott.  Your father’s here.  I’m sure you’d prefer a hug from him rather than me.  Nothing beats a good hug from your dad.”

He didn’t completely let go of him until Jeff had his son in his arms, and then he stepped back and gave a huge sigh as the older man began to gently rock his son.

Jeff turned his head to look at him.  “Thank you, Scarlet,” he said softly.

The Captain nodded.

“Hey Scotty,” Jeff said to his son.  “How are you feeling?”

“I – I wa – wanna g – go home,” he sobbed in response.  “Pl – please t – take me h – home.”

“I promise you, I’ll take you home as soon as you’re fit enough, but you’re still very ill and extremely underweight.  The hospital won’t release you until your condition improves.”

“B – but I – I don’t like it here.  Pl – please dad… get me out of here… please!”

Jeff attempted to soothe his son.  “I give you my word; I will get you out of here as soon as I can.  In the meantime, you have a couple of people who are desperate to see you.  Can John and Virgil come in now?”

Scott frantically attempted to get control of his emotions and stop sobbing.  He couldn’t, but he nodded.

“I’ll send them in,” Scarlet said, seeing the nod.  He opened the door.  The two brothers jumped to their feet and looked anxiously at him.  “Scott wants to see you.”

They stepped forward eagerly.

“Slowly,” Scarlet told them.  “He’s had a bit of an epiphany, so take it easy, but I think he will start getting better now.”

“Thank you, Captain!” John and Virgil said in unison as they walked slowly into the room towards their father and brother.

Scarlet shut the door behind them and smiled to himself.  He was used to reading people, it was part of his job, but for a moment, he thought he’d got it wrong with Scott, however it turned out he hadn’t.  That was one battle he was glad he had won.  He had to break him to fix him.  It would take time, but Scarlet was convinced he’d make a recovery.  How much though, would depend on Captain Tracy.