Deep Purple

It's so dark.

It's so quiet.

No light.

No sound.

Can't hear myself breathe.

Can't feel anything around me.

Sensory deprivation.

Again.

Am I still alive?

I must be.

I'm still thinking.

Or am I?

It's so hard to know.

Somewhere, at the back of my mind, I think I should be feeling pain.

But I don't.

I feel nothing.

That was such a stupid thing to do, Tracy.

John told you not to bother.

You could have killed yourself.

Maybe you did kill yourself.

Or maybe you're hanging on the edge.

The edge of life... and death.

It's so hard to know.

If I'm near death, then where is that white light that so many have reported?

I could see if it were here.

The boys have told me they have seen Lucy.

So where are you, Lucille?

I want to see you again.

Will I see you again?

Or is death only darkness?

It's so hard to know.

Wait!

What was that?!

A flash!

Of sound!

I can hear breathing.

My own.

Another flash!

Of... pain.

I hurt.

I'm not dead.

Sorry, Lucy.

For good or ill,

I'm still alive.

I think.

It's so hard to know.

But....

It's so dark..................

Jeff didn't know how long he had been in the darkness, but it began to lift to a grayness, an awareness. He struggled to maintain the awareness, focusing on the pain he felt as a handhold out of the dark. Finally, with an effort, he opened his eyes.

"uhhh"

Scott's head shot around to look at Jeff, just in time to see the blue eyes open to narrow slits.

"Dad!" he said softly, the one word saturated with relief. He moved over close to the bed, close to his father's face.

"Scott?" Jeff whispered, squinting. Kyrano turned the light away from the patient and with the motion, came to Jeff's attention. "K-Kyrano?" Then he groaned. "I hurt."

"Just rest easy, Dad. I'll get Brains down here. He'll want to examine you since you're awake," Scott kept his voice to a soft murmur, brushing back his father's hair, then wishing he hadn't when he saw the obvious wince. He padded softly over to the door, and left the sick room. He called for Brains through his telecomm watch, but there was no answer.

Probably out like a light. Scott thought as he ran all the way down to Brains's quarters.

"Brains? Brains! Dad is awake!" he called through the door, pounding on it and pressing the buzzer at the same time. He heard a muffled voice through the barrier, then it swished open, revealing the rumpled and blinking engineer.

"Wh-What's the matter, Scott?" he said around a yawn.

"Dad is awake. You said you wanted to know...."

"Awake! That's good n-news!" Brains exclaimed, brightening. He fetched his dressing gown, donning it as he moved, and the two men hurried to the sickroom. "Why didn't y-you use your, uh, telecomm?" he asked, puzzled.

"I did. Why didn't you answer?" Scott responded

"Oh. I t-took something to help me, uh, sleep." Brains admitted. "Otherwise, I w-wouldn't have slept at all, w-worrying about Mr. T-Tracy."

Scott's mouth made a soundless "oh" as he hustled the engineer along.

Jeff groggily took stock of himself. Head throbbing, woozy and nauseous, ribs ache, arm aches. Hurts to breathe. What the hell did I do to myself? His eyelids were heavy and kept closing on their own.

"Mr. Tracy? Please try and stay awake until Mr. Brains gets here," Kyrano said softly. His gentle voice clamored in Jeff's ears, elicting a groan.

"I-I'll... try," Jeff whispered, opening his eyes a fraction again. The low light hurt his eyes, and he wanted to do nothing more than close his eyes and succumb to the darkness again. In the dark, I didn't hurt so bad. His vision was blurry and all he could see of his friend's face was a tan- colored shape, roughly circular, topped by a snowy silver mass.

"Wh-What happened to me?" he asked plaintively.

Kyrano was nonplussed. "Do you not remember the rescue? The explosion?" he asked gently.

"Please don't talk so loud!" Jeff begged. "It makes my head hurt!"

Kyrano's concern grew. I have seen the symptoms of concussion on the Tracy sons before. But nothing like this. Never have I seen him so confused, so vulnerable before. It frightens me to see him this way. He has always been so energetic, so very sure of himself.

He moved closer to the bed and asked his question again in a very soft voice.

"Rescue? What rescue? I don't go out on rescues." Jeff answered in an aggrieved tone.

Kyrano's eyes opened wide with shock. He does not even remember the rescue at the apartment house? This is very serious.

He adjusted the light again, hoping to make Jeff more comfortable, murmuring words of encouragement all the while. He is the strength of this family, the example that all follow. Though I serve him, he has always treated me as a friend, and a brother. I only hope that he will recover and remain the man I know him to be.

The door to the sickroom opened to admit Brains and Scott. Kyrano rose hastily and intercepted them.

"Mr. Scott, will you see if you can keep your father awake while I speak with Mr. Brains? Talk to him very softly; he says that a normal tone hurts his head."

Scott looked askance at the retainer, then nodded. He approached the bed, saying "Hey, Dad" in just above a whisper, while Kyrano pulled Brains out into the hallway.

"He is very confused, Mr. Brains. He does not remember going out on any rescue, not just the one on the moon, but the one in China as well. The light, as low as it is, seems to hurt his eyes and he cannot tolerate noise above a whisper." Kyrano explained. Brains nodded in understanding.

"This is very a-alarming. I'd better, uh, examine him." Brains declared and entered the sick room.

The examination was quick as the light Brains used hurt Jeff's eyes, and he complained of his head aching. When asked who he was and where he was, Jeff answered correctly, but when asked what day it was, he told Brains he didn't know. When Brains asked him how he got there, Jeff just gave him a blank stare. Finally, Brains fetched a hypospray and loaded it with a dose of painkiller.

"Th-This should make you more comfortable, Mr. T-Tracy," he stated as he pressed the injector to the side of Jeff's neck. "I need t-to do a scan of your, uh, brain to see if there are a-any changes from wh-what the Hygenus Rille people reported."

Jeff relaxed as his pain faded into the background. "Hygenus Rille? Isn't that on the moon?" he asked, his voice just above a whisper.

"Yes, Mr. Tracy, it i-is," Brains replied. "I'll bring the scanner in h- here. Please try and, uh, stay a-awake."

"I'll try, Brains." Jeff answered softly, struggling to keep his eyes open. His vision had cleared somewhat and he could make out the faces of those around him if they were close enough.

"Scott, what happened to me?" he asked.

"You don't remember?" Scott responded, looking over at Kyrano who tapped his arm and shook his head.

"I already told Kyrano that I don't remember...." Jeff declared peevishly, his voice rising in volume.

"Shhh. It's okay, Dad. Kyrano and I didn't get a chance to talk so I didn't know that," Scott explained patiently. "What do you remember?"

Jeff closed his eyes, trying to concentrate. It's so hard to know! Everything's all a jumble. A memory flashed across his consciousness. "I remember taking Thunderbird Three up to get Alan."

"Okay, Dad, good. What else do you remember?" Scott queried. Brains came in with the mobile medical scanner and began to set it up.

Again, Jeff tried to concentrate on the scrambled images. "I remember.... driving the Firefly out of the pod." His face took on a puzzled look. "Why would I do that?"

"Don't w-worry right now about why you, uh, did something, Mr. Tracy. Just f-focus on remembering," Brains encouraged.

"All right, Brains," he said, trying to recall more of his recent past. Finally he shook his head. And immediately regretted it. The nausea than he was hoping had passed welled up again and he vomited over the side of the bed. Scott jumped back quickly to escape the bilious mess. Kyrano left the room in search of a mop.

"Don't w-worry, Mr. Tracy. We'll g-get that cleaned up. You just lie back and, uh, k-keep still." Brains pulled out a helmet-like device, and began to fasten it to Jeff's head. The device would scan just the brain. If another part of the body needed scanning, other wraparound peripheral parts would be hooked up to scan that particular area. This meant a pinpoint accurate and clear picture for Brains to analyze.

Brains took a soft foam bolster from the cart and put it under the back of Jeff's neck so he would be comfortable.

"Now, stay st-still and quiet, Mr. Tracy. The s-scan will take about, uh, ten minutes to complete."

Jeff closed his eyes and wished the nausea and the whirling feeling of vertigo would go away. He realized that he had eaten nothing for however long he was in the dark, and that what nourishment he had was solely liquid and taken in via the IV in his hand. He also realized that he had a catheter in place. The result of all of this knowledge, coupled with the loss of memory and not knowing the extent of his injuries, made him feel very helpless and vulnerable. Feelings that he did not like at all.

Scott was surprised to see a drop of moisture slide down from his father's eye into the hair near his temple. It was followed by another, and another.

Tears?

Scott turned to Brains. "Brains, tell me. What is he going through?" he asked softly.

"W-Well, Scott, your father has the classic, uh, symptoms of a severe c- category three concussion. Unconsciousness, nausea and v-vomiting, amnesia, light and, uh, sound sensitivity, confusion, h-headache, irritability: these are just some of the symptoms your father has shown since waking up. There are others that m-may or may not show up in the, uh, days and weeks to come."

"Weeks?"

"More like w-weeks and months before h-he is, uh, fully recovered."

"Oh, my God. Weeks and months?" Scott frowned. "Wait a minute. We, my brothers and I, have all had concussions before. Why hasn't it taken as long for us to recover?"

"Well, y-you and your brothers are young; your, uh, age works in y-your favor. P-Plus, it's not certain that it h-hasn't taken you that, uh, long. You all have j-just gone out when y-you are apparently recovered. In reality, your f-full recovery, uh, may have taken j-just as long or longer." Brains explained. "Especially wh-when you've had m-more than one, uh, concussion in a short period of time." He looked over at Jeff. "Th-that has worried me very much. You have a greater chance of br-brain damage or even, uh, death, when you have t-too many concussions."

Brains turned to him, his face solemn, not a trace of stutter in his voice. "Concussions are dangerous business, Scott. I just hope we don't end up sending your father to the hospital over this one." He moved over to the scanner and manipulated some of its controls. Then he removed the helmet from Jeff's head.

"O-Okay, Mr. Tracy. We're d-done here. You close your eyes and, uh, rest now. Rest is the best thing for you. I'll b-be back to check on y-you later."

"F-A-B," Jeff whispered sleepily. His eyes stayed closed and soon his regular breathing signaled that he was asleep.

Scott helped Brains wheel the scanner into a corner. Brains took the paper readouts he had garnered and a recording of the scanning session with him.

"I can look at th-this down in my, uh, lab," he said as he left.

Kyrano had finished cleaning up the vomit long ago. He spoke quietly to Scott.

"I will tell the rest of the family about your father's awakening at breakfast. Would you like me to send a tray down for you?"

"Yes, thank you, Kyrano." The retainer bowed, and left the sick room.

Scott pulled the straight-backed chair over to the bedside again and sat down, watching his father sleep. He settled back, a ghost of a smile crossing his handsome, stubbled face as he realized the irony of coming full circle to the beginning of his night, and as he thought about the hope he had for his father's recovery.