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“Fuck…” Alan whined, pressing his back against the wall.
“I’m almost done.” Virgil promised him.
Alan jolted as Virgil tied off the bandage on his leg but before he could move onto Alan’s arm, Alan held up his uninjured hand.
“Alan,” Virgil said patiently. “I need to treat all of your injuries.”
“Just give me a sec would ya?” Alan grumbled. “I’m not… I don’t feel very well.”
“In what way?”
“I dunno” Alan shrugged, hissing when he pulled at the cut on his shoulder. “Fuzzy.”
Virgil cupped Alan’s face, tilting his head a little to see if there was any sign of head injury. There was no blood but Alan might still have a concussion. His pupils were equal and reactive which was a great sign but Alan was still wincing without the light shining in his eyes so maybe there was something wrong after all.
“How long have things been fuzzy?” Virgil asked.
“I dunno.” Alan repeated.
“Were you feeling okay before the mine collapsed?”
Alan looked away which was answer enough for Virgil.
“Okay,” Virgil breathed. “We’re going to have to get you out of here.”
He pulled away, grabbing for his radio but Alan reached out and latched onto his hand instead.
“You’re not angry?” Alan asked.
“Oh, I’m furious.” Virgil said. “You should know better than to come on a mission if you’re feeling sick. But being angry right now isn’t going to fix anything so for now we just have to focus on getting you somewhere safe.”
Virgil activated his radio at last, using his callsign to request a medical evacuation. As expected, within a single moment Scott’s voice was echoing from the radio.
“I thought you said Alan’s injuries weren’t serious.”
“They weren’t,” Virgil said. “But he’s saying that everything is feeling fuzzy and he’s a little out of it. Pupils are equal and responsive but when I got him to squeeze my hands, he was weak.”
“What’s the air quality?”
“Still within normal range so it’s not that and I feel fine. It might be a concussion but I’m not so sure.”
While Virgil knew that Scott had a million more mother hen questions to ask, questions he would no doubt repeat again and again for the next few days in between the lectures, they both knew that the radio had to be clear for all the other rescuers to use so Scott did the only thing he could.
“I’ve made your section of the mine the first priority for clearance,” Scott said. “Medical is already on standby operating under concussion protocol.”
“Thanks Scott.”
Alan hummed, tilting his head back against the wall and closing his eyes.
“Allie?” Virgil said.
Blue eyes cracked open and Virgil pressed two fingers to Alan’s throat. Alan batted Virgil’s hand away with a terrible attempt at a glare but Virgil replaced the fingers and timed Alan’s pulse. It was there, obviously given that he was still trying to glare, but it was much weaker than Virgil would like it to be.
Virgil worked quickly to finish of treating Alan’s minor injuries, growing ever more worried when Alan did not so much as flinch from the antiseptic he used on the bigger cuts. Of all the Tracy brothers, Alan was usually the loudest and yet Virgil could hear his own breathing over the sound of silence that Alan was giving him.
The torch on his helmet flickered. Virgil sighed, flicking it twice until the beam of light steadied. He had intended on fixing it after the last mission but he simply hadn’t had the time before they had been called out to the mine rescue. Brains would probably be beyond annoyed that he brought faulty equipment to a rescue but what Brains didn’t know, he couldn’t be annoyed at.
This helmet had been through Virgil through thick and thin, one faulty light bulb wasn’t going to make it any less special to him.
“Get away from me…”
“Hmm?”
“Get…” Alan flicked an arm out but it fell back down. “Get away.”
“Alan, Bud, I think you have a concussion. We’re just waiting on a Med evac and as soon-“
“Not… Con… Conc… Conc… Fuck!”
“It’s okay,” Virgil said. “It’s completely normal to struggle with your speech, just take it slow.”
It was very much not normal and Virgil was very much worried now but there was no point in stressing out Alan when there wasn’t anything they could do right now, trapped in the mine as they were.
Even as the light flickered again, Virgil could see that his little brother had become more pale.
“Not head.” Alan said hotly. “Cuts.”
“I know your cuts sting,” Virgil said. “
“No.”
Alan was almost more angry than frustrated now and his uncoordinated arms tried to shove Virgil away. Virgil got it, he was probably hovering like the mother hen that Scott wanted to be, but Alan didn’t need to physically hit him away when all he had to do was politely ask for space.
There admittedly wasn’t that much space in their little air pocket and Virgil knew that they had been lucky to be trapped in a big enough area that oxygen wasn’t a concern but as that damn bulb flickered again, Virgil decided that he very much did not want to be stuck in said cave in the dark.
He reached over to hit his helmet torch again but as he did the light turned off fully and they were plunged into darkness.
No.
Not darkness.
“Not head.” Alan said, a weak arm waving towards the glowing wall. “Cuts.”
Virgil held back a curse, scrambling for his radio.
“Attention all personnel, attention all personnel. Shut off all mechanical equipment immediately, I repeat shut off all mechanical equipment immediately.”
“Virgil, what’s going on?” Scott demanded.
“There’s Fluorite crystals in the section we’re in.” Virgil said. “And if there’s Fluorite…”
“Then there might be Fluorine gas too.” Scott said.
“One spark and this whole cave explodes, Alan and I along with it.”
There was a long pause on the radio as if every single rescuer from all the different organisations that had come to help were rethinking every move they had made up until now. Virgil couldn’t blame them. Even if Fluorite hadn’t been mentioned on the mine make up, one mistake could have killed every last one of them and while they had been incredibly lucky until now, their luck may not hold forever.
Not wanting to use the glow of the Fluorite as his only light, Virgil shifted and turned on Alan’s helmet torch and left his own off.
Alan’s awareness was drifting again now that he had gotten his message across and Virgil retook his pulse. It was still off and until Alan was decontaminated from the toxic Fluorine gas that had seeped straight into his bloodstream through his cuts, it was likely his symptoms were just going to get worse.
Alan needed help, now, but without mechanical equipment none of the other rescuers will be able to reach this part of the mine any time soon if they make it here at all. But Virgil equally did not want them risking their own lives by using the equipment and blowing up everything.
“Alan, how we doing Bud?”
“Get away from me…”
“I’ve already been exposed,” Virgil said. “And even if I hadn’t been, I’m not about to leave my baby brother’s side when he’s feeling sick.”
Alan hummed, tilting forward.
Virgil didn’t want to have to put Alan into the recovery position but given how he was drifting and may not be able to keep his airway clear, Virgil might not have a choice.
Readjusting so that he was sitting with his legs out and his back leaned up against the wall, Virgil tugged Alan into his arms, setting Alan’s head into his lap. It wasn’t the recovery position but it should at least be more comfortable and at the first sign of Alan’s breathing being compromised, Virgil will be able to move him again.
“Virg?” Alan mumbled. “When…”
“When what, Bud?”
“When did you get into my room?” Alan blinked, slowly, and then again. “No? Not room?”
“It’s okay, everything’s okay. We’re just… Hanging out.”
“Hanging out.” Alan repeated, his words slurring. “I like hanging out.”
Those beautiful blue eyes were blinking again but they were taking longer each time to reopen.
“I like hanging out with you too, but I need you to stay awake.” Virgil said.
“Fuzzy.”
The word sent a brand new shiver down Virgil’s spine as he remembered that earlier Alan had implied that he had been feeling sick even before the mine collapsed around them. Sure, he might have been exposed to the toxic Fluorine gas as soon as he entered the mine system but back then Alan had been wearing his helmet and it should have filtered out the worst of it.
Virgil ran his fingers absently through Alan’s hair and Alan hummed, relaxing into the touch.
“Alan,” Virgil said carefully. “How long have you been feeling fuzzy?”
While Alan’s eyes had conveniently closed, Virgil didn’t believe for a moment that he had lost consciousness at the perfect moment. Virgil rolled his own eyes and waited in silence, knowing that Alan would break his act eventually.
Except apparently Alan was more annoying than usual today because Virgil broke the silence first.
“When was the last time you ate?”
Alan’s body tensed a little and his head twisted in Virgil’s lap but he did not give any other answer.
“Allie…” Virgil sighed.
“I’m sorry, okay?” Alan said. “I was gonna eat, I swear I was, but then we got called out again and then again and I was fine, I promise I was fine but…”
“But then the mine collapsed.” Virgil finished for him. “And the rest is history.”
No wonder why Alan had gone down hill so quickly, even if the gas hadn’t seeped into his cuts and scrapes, his body was already so weak from hunger that it couldn’t protect him from the toxic gas.
Virgil wished that he could say that this was the first time he had seen Alan become weak from malnutrition but that simply wasn’t true. Alongside his prodigal genius brains and loving heart and unending compassion, Alan had unfortunately inherited another Tracy trait. They couldn’t be certain that all of it was genetic but there was no denying the connection that all of them shared, a connection that Virgil sometimes illogically blamed himself for.
It presented differently in each of them; Virgil himself had depressive episodes that could last from days to weeks, Scott struggled with his anger especially if he perceived that his family was in danger, John was often overstimulated and hated human contact and would occasionally go non-verbal, Gordon was instead chronically under stimulated and had developed PTSD from his accident which had made his panic attacks ever more common and Alan… Sweet, loving, excitable Alan…
Alan struggled with food.
When Alan had first been diagnosed with an eating disorder, Virgil had once again illogically blamed himself. Mum had passed a few years earlier and Dad was always so busy with work so it had been Virgil’s responsibility to look out for him.
Virgil would put a bowl on the counter, call Alan to eat, and would return to whatever he was doing to try to drown out whatever was going on inside his head. The bowls would always be emptied by the next meal so Virgil hadn’t once suspected that Alan wasn’t actually eating any of it until he found Alan unconscious at just fourteen, severely dehydrated and malnourished.
Both Virgil’s and Alan’s therapists claimed that it wasn’t Virgil’s fault for missing the signs, that he had no way of knowing that Alan had specifically been throwing the food into the compost so that no one would suspect that he was not eating it as some messed up form of regaining control of his life, Virgil knew that back then like right now had been his fault.
Virgil was meant to protect his younger brothers and yet he kept failing to do so. Gordon had nearly died in that Hydrofoil accident and Virgil had never thought to warn him to not do it and Alan had nearly died of malnourishment at fourteen and now he was ill again for the very same reason with the added danger of toxic minerals.
“Virg?” Alan mumbled.
“I’m right here Alan.”
“I know… You always are.”
Not knowing how he should respond to that, Virgil continued carding fingers through Alan’s hair but this time Alan didn’t lean into the touch. He didn’t do anything at all except lay in Virgil’s lap unmoving, his eyes closed.
“Allie?” Virgil said, tapping Alan’s cheek gently. “Alan? Alan, can you hear me?”
His own heart beating right out of his chest, Virgil checked Alan’s pulse. Except he could not find it and even when he swore loudly, Alan did not so much as twitch. Running on auto pilot, Virgil repositioned Alan so that he was fully lying down on the ground and hovered just above Alan’s mouth, watching and waiting for Alan’s chest to rise and fall.
It didn’t.
Virgil started compressions, barely aware that he was even doing them until he heard a loud crack as Alan’s ribs broke. Virgil kept doing CPR even as his eyes stung and his very soul hurt.
Alan’s lips were already turning a little blue and Virgil did not let himself wonder how far away the rescue team was. His little brother wasn’t breathing, his little brother was dying, and it was all his fault for not having noticed that something was wrong sooner.
Just how many days had it been since Alan had eaten? Virgil had been away so often on his own rescues that he couldn’t remember the last time he had shared a meal with the youngest Tracy and yet here he was, not breathing and if Virgil had just made time to eat with him then maybe Alan’s body would have been able to tolerate exposure to a toxic gas a little better.
Virgil could distantly hear a voice echo over the radio but he ignored it, feeling another rib snap as he forced Alan’s heart to beat.
Just one damn meal, one shared drink and none of this would have happened. If Virgil wasn’t such a self centred jerk he would have noticed that Alan’s eating had become disordered again, he would have noticed that Alan was struggling. He would have done something, done anything, if it meant that Alan would be okay.
Virgil’s head was spinning a little but he forced that back too. He didn’t care that he had been exposed to the same toxic gas that Alan had, he didn’t care about anything right now except for his little brother.
“Virgil,”
The voice sounded closer than the radio but Virgil didn’t care. Alan was dying.
“Virgil, let them take over.”
He couldn’t stop. Alan was dying because Virgil hadn’t looked after him and he sure as hell wasn’t going to stop trying to save him even if the world was spinning around him even faster, even if there was a hand on his shoulder trying to pull him away from Alan.
Except Alan was already gone and the world was spinning and there was a hand on his shoulder and he wasn’t in the mine any more and when had everything gotten so bright?
There was a mask on Virgil’s face and when his hand rushed up to get rid of it, another hand caught his own.
“Easy there, Virgil,” Scott rumbled. “You still need that.”
“Fluorine gas.” Virgil said.
“Yeah,” Scott said. “That’s why you need the oxygen.”
“No! Alan was exposed to Fluorine gas but he’s also malnourished and dehydrated and he was dying because of me and-“
“Virgil,” Scott said. “Take a deep breath. Like this. That’s it… And another. Good job.”
While it was still a little too bright wherever they were and the mask still felt wrong on his face, the world wasn’t spinning nearly as much or as quickly and when he blinked he realised that Scott was out of his uniform. They weren’t simply in the Med tent at the mine, they had somehow gotten so far as a hospital even though Virgil didn’t remember even standing up.
But did that mean that Alan was…
“He wasn’t dehydrated.”
“What?” Virgil’s croaked.
“Alan wasn’t dehydrated.” Scott said. “They put him on a drip all the same just in case but he wasn’t dehydrated or malnourished.
“I… He… He said everything was fuzzy.”
“I know,” Scott said. “But that was just the Fluorine Gas. Brains found a fault in Alan’s helmet. It wasn’t filtering anything from the air, Fluorine included, so he was exposed even before either of you took off your helmets which is why it affected him so much faster.”
“But Alan hasn’t been eating. I didn’t make sure he was eating.”
“He has been.” Scott assured him. “He came to me a few weeks ago, said that he was struggling a little again and we got him some help. I promise you, Alan was not dehydrated or malnourished, he simply breathed in too much Fluorine and it hit him hard. This wasn’t your fault.”
It was Virgil’s fault. Everything was always Virgil’s fault.
“Virg?”
The voice made Virgil scramble upright and if it weren’t for Scott reaching out just in time, he may have just tumbled out of his bed in desperation to get closer towards that voice.
There was a bed across from Virgil’s where Alan was looking absolutely exhausted and had an oxygen mask to match Virgil’s own. His blue eyes were still a little dull and while it looked like he had just woken up, the fact that Alan was alive was a miracle.
“Virgil, you need to rest.” Scott said even as he helped Virgil stagger towards Alan’s bed. “Your body’s been through a lot.”
“Alan, can you hear me? How many fingers am I holding up? Are you-”
“Going insane from both you and Scott smothering me?” Alan asked, tilting his head. “Yes, yes I am.”
“Fuck, Alan, I thought you were dead.”
“I got better?”
Virgil stared at him.
Alan stared right back with those beautiful blue eyes that Virgil had never thought he would see again. Alan’s lips twitched but Virgil didn’t not let himself share in Alan’s apparent amusement, focusing on the worry and pain and anger he had so rightly felt not so long ago. But then Alan twitched again and as a strange squeak passed his lips, Virgil felt all that stress lift from his shoulders.
Alan was not only alive, he was okay and he was laughing.
His little brother, his precious little brother who he had tucked into bed more times than he could count, his precious little brother who he found unconscious on the bathroom floor, his precious little brother who had stopped breathing not because of malnourishment but because he had been exposed to a toxic gas that no one had detected was there until it was too late.
A terrible event of course but an event that was because of the line of work they were in and not because of some messed up family tradition of struggling with good mental health.
“Hey,” Alan said. “Stop crying, I’m fine. And for what it’s worth, I ate my entire lunch while you’ve been sleeping the day away.”
“I need my beauty sleep.” Virgil said, forcing out a long breath. “That’s why I look like this and why Scott looks like that.”
“I’ll have you know,” Scott said. “I was voted Most Attractive Emergency Serviceman long before you were.”
“Oh I know,” Virgil said, at last letting himself smile. “Back in the stone age.”
When Alan laughed again Virgil’s heart soared and when he reached out to hold Alan’s hand, Alan accepted it without hesitation.
“I’m right here Alan.” Virgil promised.
“I know.” Alan said, holding his hand ever tighter. “You always are."