Any mistakes are mine. The Thunderbirds are not mine.

It still did not feel real.

The man sat in the bedroom, as he looked around at the furniture. Nothing had been moved, the computer was still on the desk, now dust laden. The bedding had not been changed since the occupant had gone away to school two months before – and never came home. It had been six weeks since their father had received the terrifying phone call from the flustered and sorry headmaster. Soon to be late headmaster, if his brother Scott had it his way. It had 30 days since the funeral, in which Parker had wrestled with three journalists to keep them from ruining the events.

It had been thirty days since he had buried his brother. His only baby brother. He was the youngest now. He could remember the last time he had been the youngest. He was almost five when Alan arrived into the world. And it had been his mother who had allowed the five year old to realise being a big brother would be amazing.

"Your Alan's big brother, Gordy." She had said, the first night they had brought the newborn home from the hospital. "You have to keep him safe."

And he had. At least, Gordon thought he had. He should have done a better job. He should have stopped his father from sending the boy back to boarding school. It had only been a year since the Hood's attack, told him that they should stick together. But he hadn't. Instead, the day Alan left he was too busy placing hair dye into Virgil's shampoo, to even say goodbye to his brother. And he had been too late to say goodbye that fateful night also.

"There's nothing more we can do, Mr Tracy." The Doctor said to Jeff, as they stood next to Alan's bedside. Gordon held his baby brothers hand, attempting to hold back the rage he felt again the doctor who wasn't trying hard enough. "We truly did everything we could."

"What does that mean?" one of the brothers asked, and it had been Virgil who had replied. His face white, as he stood next to their father, tears evident on both faces. "It means he's dead."

Gordon glanced from Alan's bed, towards the clock on the desk. The second hand was slowly moving around the face, as he counted them down in his mind. Ten, nine, eight he was mentally speaking three, two, and one.

"Thirty one days." He whispered, ignoring the tears which were making their way down his cheeks. He closed his eyes, as he thought about his brother.

"Thirty one days since what?" a familiar voiced ask "Gordy, are you crying?" the voice replied once more, amusement in his voice, as Gordon's eye whipped open. He stood in shock, backing slightly away, as he took in the figure's appearance. Dark jeans, a light blue buttoned down shirt, messy blond hair. No. No, it couldn't be.

"Alan?"

TBTBTB

Water.

Since the age of four, it had been his sanctuary. The one sport or activity he was great at, even better than anyone else in his family. His brothers often joked he was part fish, with the amount of time he spent in the water. They just didn't understand. It had been his dream of winning a gold medal in swimming at the Olympics which allowed him to fight the odds and walk once more. And every stoke he took, was another moment he could relax, and forget about everything going on.

Of course, when he left the water, he realised that nothing stayed lost forever. Gordon grabbed the towel, drying himself off, before his hand quickly went to his head. He grimaced in pain, wishing the headache which he had been having on and off for the last few days would disappear.

"You should really go see Virg about that." Alan spoke up, and Gordon looked towards his brother, who was sat on one of the deck chairs. He closed his eyes, shaking his head before realising that not only did that hurt his head even more, the sudden movement made him slightly nauseous.

"You're not real." He whispered. "I am not seeing you."

"Then why are you talking to me?"

Gordon gave a slight jump, as Alan appeared beside him. He glared in his brothers direct.

"You're dead, Alan. You died six weeks ago, when that student decided to take a gun and go on the rampage around your school. Six weeks since he shot you, when you attempted to save that English teacher's life. You're not meant to be here."

Alan just gave a smile, followed by a small shrug. He was still wearing the same clothes as when he first appeared to Gordon. The same clothes he had been wearing the day of the school shooting.

"I'm here because of you, Gordy." He spoke finally "You want me here, you need me here."

Gordon threw the towel down.

"Why do I want to be reminded of the brother I couldn't save?" he harshly spoke, not noticed John watching him through the glass door, a cup of coffee in his hands. "Tell me why, Alan?"

But Alan didn't speak. He just stood there, watching as Gordon spun around, storming up towards the house. He stormed past John, who spoke out loud but Gordon ignored the brother who had decided to stay with his family for the time being, leaving the mourning Brains and Fermat on Thunderbird five, who had asked to go up there in the first place. Alan followed the red head, as he stood next to John.

"He's not doing so well, Johnny." He spoke, and John didn't reply. It was like he hadn't heard Alan speak in the first place, nor felt the poke from Alan on his arm.

Reaching his bedroom, and turning on his stereo, Gordon entered his bathroom, kneeling down before vomiting into the toilet. He grabbed the hand towel from the sink, as he dabbed it against his heated forehead. He heaved a few more times, as he collapsed on the floor, the room spinning slightly.

"Not looking so hot, Gordon."

Gordon didn't even react to the boy, sitting at the edge of his bathtub.

"Why won't you leave me alone?" he asked, as the pain in his head finally went away.

"Because you're my brother." Alan replied "I didn't leave you when we pranked Scott before I left for school two months ago, and I won't leave you now. Not when you need me."

For the first time in six weeks, Gordon allowed a small grin appear on his face. Yes, that last prank with Scott had been a masterpiece. But still, he couldn't understand why he needed Alan right now. He was fine.

"Why do I need you?" he questioned, as Alan raised a single eyebrow.

"Seriously?" Alan stated "You haven't figured it out yet? Why you're seeing your dead brother? Why you've got a headache, why you're being sick."

Gordon shock his head, cringing as the pain came back. He needed drugs. Maybe headache tablets... or morphine. Whatever Virgil had in the hospital wing. But that required moving, and he was feeling slightly weaker then usual. Maybe he spent way too much time in the pool or something. Yes, that was the reason.

"You are ill, Gordy."

He took a deep breath, and stood up, waving a hand towards his brother.

"No, I'm fine." He spoke, leaving the room, and his annoyed looking brother behind.

TBTBTBTB

The one good thing about the medical wing was Virgil purposely placed everything into alphabetical order. Gordon entered the wing, reaching the large cabinet and opening the doors, as he searched for the I section. He was too focused on the headache to notice the adult sitting on one of the beds, apparently writing out forms for extra medical supplies. Virgil Tracy watched as his brother looked through the labels, and frowned. They had all been having a hard time with Alan's death. His father and Scott had both lost weight, the only time they were together the last week was when a mission arrived for the Thunderbirds, a factor which they knew they couldn't stop – because more lives would be lost. But Gordon. Well, John had already told Virgil about seeing Gordon seemingly having an argument with himself by the pool.

Virgil stood, placing the forms down as he did so.

"Gordy?"

Gordon stood, holding the tablet bottle as he rolled his eyes.

"For the last time, I am fine Alan!" He spoke, as he turned around and froze. Virgil came forward, slightly confused at what he had been called. Gordon looked past his brother, and saw Alan standing by the window, how had he gotten there so fast?

"Sorry." Gordon quickly spoke "Virgil. I meant Virgil."

The brunette was not convinced.

"You said Alan." He replied, wishing the brother would just tell him what was going on. "Are you alright?"

Gordon looked to Virgil, and then towards Alan.

"Tell him." Alan spoke "Tell him you're ill."

"I'm not ill!" Gordon shouted at the Alan figure, as Virgil spun around, looking to the empty space he was shouting at. Virgil looked back towards Gordon, who was once again holding his head with one hand, leaning on the desk with the other. "Tell him I'm not ill."

"Gordon there's no open there." Virgil replied, even more worried for the younger brother, who shook his head, not caring about the pain.

"He's right there, Virgil. I can see him, I can speak to him. Hell, I can hear him. He is right there."

Virgil looked back towards the window once more.

"Who is there?" he question, as he thought back to Gordon. He seemed in pain, his breath was slowly down; he was speaking to invisible people.

"Alan." Gordon spoke finally. "Alan is right there! He's telling me I'm ill, but I'm not. Tell him Virg, I'm not ill. He's wrong, isn't he? I'm not crazy."

Placing his hand on Gordon shoulder, Virgil pulled the man inwards him.

"You can see our brother?" Virgil questioned, so not to anger or upset his brother more. "For how long?"

Gordon didn't reply for a while, as he heard Alan speak once more.

"You did well, Gordy."

Gordon threw himself from the embrace, and looked back to the window.

"No." He stated. "No! Where is he? Where did he go?"

Virgil attempted to grab his brother once more, who was walking towards the window.

"He was right there. He isn't dead, ok. He was right... he was ri..."

But he didn't finish his sentence. He stood, as Virgil cautiously walked towards him, before the adult crashed to the floor.

"Oh my- SCOTT" Virgil shouted, praying that he got his brothers attention, as he tried to keep his now seizing brother under control.

TBTBTB

"You did great today, kid." Gordon said, sitting at the end of Alan's bed. The teen smiled in reply, still shaken up on the day's events. Gordon could see the marks around his neck, feeling the hate for the Hood rush through him. He patted the leg, before standing to give his brother some space.

"Gordy?" Alan started questionably, Gordon looked around, the normally joking fish boy looking serious and worried at his brother. "Do you, could you... maybe stay? Tonight?"

Gordon smiled, remembering the last time they had stayed like that. Alan had been eleven and the next day was leaving for his first boarding school, Gordon had been sixteen and let the scared boy stay with him that night. She sat back down next to his brother.

"Sure."

Jeff expertly stopped the car near the gates, turning the key to stop the car. He glanced towards his son, still worried his son would be overdoing it. He had promised a quick trip, before he had to be back at the hospital with him.

"You need me to go with you." He asked Gordon, who had a bandana around his head, looking slightly pale as he shook his head. He opened the door, the hospital bracelet around his wrist as he closed it, and made his way through the gates, and past the gravestones. Finally, as he past his mothers, he reached the one he was there to visit. He read the stones inscription, wondering what to actually say.

"It's been a month." Gordon started, his arms folded around himself. "Since I saw you. But that wasn't even you. The doctor and Virgil told me, I was seeing the one person I wanted to see most. You were a hallucination." He paused for a second. "I guess I knew something was wrong with me. Even before I started to see you, there was the headaches, the constant sickness. I put it down to grieve. I was wrong, Allie. I had a brain tumour." A lone tear slowly rolled down his cheeks. "I didn't think I could cope. At first, I didn't want treatment. Then I could be with you, Al. The partners in crime back together again." The lone tear was joined by another. "Then I realised that dad would be devastated. He's lost mom, then he lost his baby. How could I let him loose another son so soon? I started chemo, then surgery. It's taken a while to work, but they've giving me an okay today, Al. You hear that? They think it worked. I'm getting better." Another tear arrived. "I need you hear, Allie. Just like when I had the hydrofoil accident. I need your help to get through this."

He didn't move to wipe any tear away.

"I love you brother, never forget that. Please Alan, and keep mom safe for me, okay?"

And as Gordon stood there, besides the two graves, he could have sworn he smelt the lavender perfume which he mother had favoured when he was a child. Along with the laughter of his baby brother.

"Keep them safe for me too, Gordy."