Never a Dull Moment
by Criminally Charmed
Disclaimer - I don't own the Thunderbirds. Duh.
This was supposed to be up on the 18th for Sammygirl1963's birthday - I AM SOOOOO SORRY! Each update will be on Wednesdays, starting next week. Six chapters for six Tracys.
Chapter One – Jeff
Jeff Tracy looked at the interviewer with indulgent eyes. "So," he said. "You are writing about Alan – my son, Alan – and how he changed lives. Well, all my boys changed my life for the better. But Alan did, just by his birth, change many lives. How? In order to explain, I have to start with the day he was born…"
"C'mon, Lucy!" Jeff encouraged his wife, kissing her on the top of her head. "You can do this!"
Lucy Tracy looked up at her husband. "I swear to god, Jefferson Grant Tracy, you ever lay a hand on me again, I'll rip it off and shove it down your throat."
"Um, Lucy, I need both of my hands to work," Jeff tried to joke.
Glaring at him, Lucy breathed through the latest wave of pain as she tried to push her latest child – gender still unknown – into the world. "What," she gasped out, "makes you think I meant a hand?"
Gulping slightly, Jeff tried to remain supportive. Lucy, on the other hand, glared at her obstetrician.
"I thought," she gasped through yet another reminder of why men would never survive giving birth, "that labor was supposed to be easier with each baby?"
"Well, Lucy," Dr. Sam Adams reminded her, "it has been five years since Gordon's birth and with the accident and the c-section with Gordon; you actually haven't given birth vaginally since Virgil. That's seven years."
"Scott was easier than this!" Lucy snapped.
"So this just might be a girl after all!" Jeff joked.
Glaring at her husband, Lucy growled, "You better hope this is your Christina. Because if this is a fifth son, you are not getting another chance to prove you can make a girl."
Jeff's gulp was far more noticeable this time. Leaning in close, he reminded himself that his wife loved him and that while he was more than willing to wait for him to make an appointment for – how did his wife phrase it? A quick caught up in his thoughts, Jeff barely noticed that they were in the home stretch until Lucy groaned and gripped his hand so tightly he was sure not a drop of blood was circulating in that limb.
"Alright, Lucy," Dr. Adams grinned behind his mask. "Here comes baby number five and it's a – wow. Shocker." He looked up at the couple. "A boy."
Lucy chuckled while Jeff tried to hide his disappointment. He really had hoped for a girl this time –
Both Lucy's amusement and Jeff's disappointment faded when Dr. Adams didn't place the newborn on Lucy's stomach as they had the first three times. And even when Gordon was born, the obstetrician had held the baby close to Lucy's face so she could see her son. All four times, all of the mother's fears faded with the first cry of the newborn.
The silence was going on far too long.
Please God, Jeff prayed. Just let the baby be alright. Please. I know I kept saying I wanted a girl. Every other time I said I didn't care, just as long as it was healthy. Please let my son be –
The baby's piercing cry echoed through the delivery room, causing the parents to begin crying in gratitude. Dr. Adams came back over, smiling at Lucy as he held out the boy, swaddled in a light blue blanket.
"Little guy gave us a bit of a scare there, didn't he," the OB chuckled.
Reverently touching the blonde curls on the baby's head, Jeff bit his lip as tears welled in his eyes. "He's perfect, Luc," Jeff whispered.
"Still going with Mercury Seven astronauts?" Dr. Adams asked.
Jeff nodded. "Well, there is Walter Schirra."
Before Lucy could say anything, the baby's eyes popped open and he wailed loudly. "I think," Lucy cracked, "that he doesn't like it."
"OK, OK!" Jeff said over the baby's loud cries. "There was also Alan Sheppard."
Instantly, the baby stopped crying, gulping and staring up his parents with wide blue eyes. Cooing softly, Jeff marveled at the rapid change in his newest son's temper. Brushing baby Alan's cheek, Jeff kissed the top of Lucy's head. "I think he likes it."
Smiling in joy, Lucy raised Alan so that she could kiss his downy hair. "Yes, Rocket Man – I think Alan Sheppard Tracy will do nicely."
"You are still getting snipped," she muttered to Jeff.
If you asked me later,
Unlike other visitors, the fathers were allowed to come and go as they pleased. Some even chose to sleep in a sleeper lounger with their families. But I had four other sons there and my mother wasn't going to arrive until that evening. Ann-Marie, who worked for me for a couple of years by that point, was staying at the house until Mom got there to give me the freedom to be with Lucy and Alan. I couldn't sleep, feeling like one of my sons needed me.
I had checked on my oldest four multiple times before Scott muttered, "Dad, we're fine. Please go to sleep."
I tried. I swear! But then I found myself driving back to the hospital. Once there, I checked on Lucy. The birth had been hard on her and Dr. Adams had given her something to help her sleep. Then I turned to check on Alan…
Jeff smiled as he bent down by Alan's bassinet. The newest Tracy son might be a boy but he was Lucy all over. The golden locks, the bright blue eyes – the temper was his wife to a T.
Suddenly, Jeff stood up straight. Alan's breathing wasn't the same even tempo that Jeff recalled from each of his other sons. Hurriedly, Jeff rushed over to Lucy's bedside and pushed the nurse call button. In less than a minute, a nurse came into the room.
"Mr. Tracy," she spoke softly. "Is everything alright with Mrs. Tracy?"
"Lucy's fine," Jeff said. "It's Alan. Something is wrong with Alan."
The nurse smiled indulgently. She was used to new parents worrying, but really – Jeff Tracy had four other children at home. Leaning over the bassinet her smile quickly turned to a frown. Moving as quickly as Jeff had she pressed the Nurse Call to contact the station.
"Helen, page Dr. Nichols." Looking over at Jeff, the nurse tried to keep her worry off her face. "It's probably nothing, Mr. Tracy. But Alan's breathing -"
"Is off," Jeff interrupted. "Miss, I have four other sons. I have sat by their cribs and bedsides. I know when something is wrong with one of my boys."
Before either of them could say anything else, a young doctor came into the room. She headed directly to Alan's bassinet. "OK, young man," she smiled as she bent down. "Angie wants me to take a peek at…you -" Her voice trailed off as she started to listen to Alan's heart and lungs with her stethoscope.
Looking over at the nurse, Dr. Nichols nodded. "Activate NICU, Angie."
As hospital personnel began to enter the room, pushing in equipment and preparing to transfer Alan, Lucy stirred in her bed. Blinking sleepily, she looked at the medical personnel surrounding her baby.
"Jeff?" Lucy cried in panic. "What's going on? What are they doing with our baby?"
Sitting beside her, Jeff pulled his wife in close. "I don't know, Luc. I just don't know."
I sat with Lucy until the doctor came back. She wasn't alone. Dr. Adams was with her. They were running tests but it looked like Alan might have a respiratory infection. Dr. Nichols looked me straight in the eye and told me that if I hadn't checked on Alan when I had, it might have been too late by the time the nurses did their rounds. We couldn't blame the nurses. Alan had appeared completely healthy; there was no reason for anyone to assume there was anything wrong with our son.
Days passed and Lucy and I spent as much time as we could with Alan. After forty-eight hours, Alan was brought back from the Newborn Intensive Care Unit to a step down unit. Lucy, who had been discharged by then, was allowed to stay in the room since she was breast feeding. Alan was allowed out of the monitoring bassinette – kind of a version of an incubator but with more freedom to interact with people – for the feeding but for limited times. Both of us had to wear sterile clothing for the first forty-eight hours when Alan was in the NICU – I was glad to drop those when he was in the step down unit.
While Alan was in the hospital, the boys couldn't see him. Usually, that would have been allowed. But because of the added precautions, only children over age ten could be in there. Scott was the only one old enough. My mother gathered the middle three boys in front of a viewing window. I can still see John's wide eyes, Virgil's smile and Gordon's nose pressed against the glass. But it was Scott, decked out in the smallest scrubs they could find, rolled up so he wouldn't trip and could use his hands, that I remember the most.
I removed Alan from the monitoring bed, careful of the wires that were hooked up to monitor his heart and lungs and placed the baby in Scott's arms. As I guided them to a rocking chair that Lucy used when feeding the baby, I had most of my focus on Alan. But it would be the wonder and joy in Scott's eyes that I would carry with me…
"Dad," Scott said softly. "Look at him. It's like he knows me."
Alan's wide blue eyes were fixed on Scott's face. Babies that age were not supposed to be able to focus. Babies that age shouldn't be able to recognize anyone. Babies that age couldn't smile. And yet as Alan sighed in contentment and his face relaxed, cuddling into Scott's chest, Jeff smiled as he looked over at Lucy. There was no doubt in their minds that their son loved and would protect his brothers. But this one would be forever entrenched in Scott's heart. If Alan had the ability to speak at that moment, he could ask Scott for the world and the big brother would find a way to give it to him.
We took Alan home more than a week after his birth. He seemed to catch every cold, every sniffle, for almost all of his first year. Then, around his birthday, it just stopped. Lucy joked it was because he had gone from crawling to running about that time and Alan would see being sick as something that would slow him down.
Yes, I said running. Alan never walked where he could run in his life, what makes you think he was any different as a baby?
But you wanted to know how Alan changed lives? Well, that would come almost a decade later –
Jeff came home to the New York apartment and saw Virgil coming out of the kitchen.
"Dishes are done, Dad," Virgil spoke softly. "I left some dinner for you in the fridge. Do you want me to heat it up for you?"
"In a minute, Virgil," Jeff said absently. "Sorry I ran so late." Looking around the neat and orderly apartment, he smiled. "You know, I can hire a housekeeper."
Virgil shrugged. "We're only here for the summer. Scott is in the Air Force, John at Harvard and I'll be heading to Princeton in the fall. With Gordon at school, you'll be taking Alan to the island. Why hire someone for a few months?"
Jeff nodded, knowing his son was right. Both before and after Lucy's death, he had always insisted that his sons know how to look after themselves. They had chores to do and could even cook for themselves.
Well, except for Scott. The boy loved to eat but was a menace to kitchens everywhere. Jeff had allowed himself a small smile as he thought of his oldest. But seeing the last phone message, he paused.
"Virgil?" When his son turned back to face him, Jeff continued. "When did Dr. Adams call?"
"I wrote it down, Dad," Virgil said. "It was only a few minutes ago." A look of concern crossed his face. "Nothings wrong, is it Dad?"
Confused, Jeff let out a small chuckle when he guessed what Virgil meant. "Virgil, he isn't my doctor. That was the obstetrician who delivered you, Gordon and Alan."
"Unless there is something I don't know Dad, I have to ask – What's up with that?"
Walking towards his study, Jeff shrugged. "I won't know until I call. Say – where are Alan and Gordon?"
"Gordon took the Sprout to a movie. I figured we both could use a few hours of quiet. You have only forty minutes left since you were late."
Jeff chuckled once more. Alan might be the most like Lucy but there were times each of his boys could channel their late mother –
So I called Dr. Adams. After some casual chatter about the boys, Sam came to the point. Dr. Abby Nicholson, the pediatrician who had cared for Alan after his respiratory infection, had been intrigued by his son's case. Dr. Adams had related how Alan had had trouble breathing for a moment when he was first born due to inhaling amniotic fluid. Some of the samples taken from the newborn after he was placed in the NICU showed the infection had a basis in the fluid.
It had taken Dr. Nicholson ten years of research, mainly on her own due to the fact that a gut instinct wasn't something many people were willing to invest in, but she had discovered a link between babies who inhaled a larger amount of the fluid then most typically would and certain cases of SIDS – Sudden Infant Death Syndrome.
Dr. Nicholson was about to publish her work. She would list Alan as Baby Boy A but she wanted me to know in case the information of who the baby was ever came out. It was unlikely but given the way the media followed the Tracys like rabid hounds she was just covering all bases. I found myself agreeing as long as she did everything possible to hide Alan's identity.
Sitting there in the fading summer light, I touched a picture of Lucy holding Alan, surrounded by the other four boys. It was the day we finally brought our baby home. I had always known that Alan had been at risk but I never appreciated how much until now. I had read between the lines of what Dr. Adams had told me. If I hadn't gone back to the hospital that night, Alan probably would have died – another statistic of SIDS.
The sound of a door slamming shut and raised, excited voices drew Jeff to his surroundings. Standing, Jeff moved to the door and swung it open.
Alan was excitedly telling Virgil about the sci-fi thriller they had just seen when suddenly he found himself turned around and pulled into a smothering hug.
"Um, Daddy – are you OK?"
Jeff sat heavily on the couch as his shaking knees would no longer hold him. Pulling Alan so that the ten year old was sitting beside him, he put his arm around his youngest and kissed the top of his head.
"I'm fine, Alan," Jeff said quietly, relieved beyond measure that Lucy's last gift to him had not been taken from him, either at birth or later when he had lost the love of his life. "So," Jeff looked at his three sons, "what are you three doing for the rest of the night?"
"Well," Virgil said, "Al's bedtime is in a half hour and I have some sketches I wanted to work on. Not sure about Fish-face here."
Before Gordon could object to the nickname, Jeff gave a one-armed hug once more and said, "How about the four of us play some board games? Some family time."
Gordon looked confused. "Dad, don't you have some work to do?"
Thinking of the files on his desk and the unreturned phone calls, Jeff mentally pushed them aside. "Not tonight."
Virgil grinned. "Al, you and Gordy get the board games. I'll get some snacks. Dad?"
Jeff smiled at his sons. "I'll help you in the kitchen, Virgil. And just so you guys know – no bed times tonight, OK?"
Alan, the only one who had an early bedtime, whooped with joy and ran to follow Gordon to get the games. It wasn't often Daddy wanted to play with them these days and Alan was delighted to get as much time as he could.
Jeff went to follow Virgil to the kitchen, silently thanking God for his boys – his true treasures.
The article by Dr. Nicholson led to some added research, perfecting a quick test that was done on newborns. That same infection that could have killed Alan would later be credited – or is it blamed – for as many as one of five cases of SIDS. Thanks to the test, antibiotics could now be started on the infected babies. Thousands of children who could have died before they could have ever lived are now alive and well. Dr. Nicholson later said when she was being touted for her ground breaking research that if it hadn't been for Baby Boy A she would have accepted a position at a family practice clinic and never done her research. So you see, if not for Alan Tracy, thousands of other babies would not have the chance they now have.
Besides all that? With Alan around, there is never a dull moment. But you knew that, didn't you?
A/N - Like I said, one of six. Scott will be here next week. BTW - SIDS is a tragedy and, sadly, a mystery. We can only hope that researchers will find something in the future. So yes, that is made up. Fan FICTION, remember?
Tomorrow (maybe Saturday) for next chapter of Alan and John...Next week for more of this. - CC