4:32 am. It wasn't a wonderful time to be awake when you have stacks of paperwork to be doing the next day, or have a rescue organisation to run. 4:32 am, however, was a wonderful time to be wandering around the villa and reflecting on your amazing sons. More specifically, their amazingly weird sleeping habits.

Jeff smiled as he paused outside the first door he came across. Scott. The first door, the first son, and the first riser. Scott was a rock that Jeff could depend on; the apple of his father's eye. A light sleeper, was Scott. Something that came from having a multitude of younger brothers. He slept on his side - never quite relaxed - with his fingertips brushing the floor, where he no doubt kept a weapon of some kind, something that stemmed from his air force days. Every morning, Scott would awaken with the rising sun, and go for a run across the glittering sands of Tracy Island, enjoying the serenity of nature, before the storm of siblings began their antics.

Jeff felt regret as he ran his hand down John's door. John, who was so stoic, so rarely home. John was the calm amidst the storm. The cool, collected voice that guided those in distress. Jeff couldn't remember the last time he saw John sleep, properly sleep. John was a strange sleeper, his sleep cycles thrown out of whack when he was up on his beloved Five. One could often find John sleeping upside down somewhere, when he had completed his tour of duty and was back on Tracy Island. John felt safest sleeping in his Thunderbird, enjoying the feeling of weightlessness, and letting the zero-g cradle him as he snoozed. John woke to sight of earth spinning lazily, to Scott pestering him on the comms. about how he should get some sleep and to EOS informing him of any emergencies to be dealt with.

Jeff's grin returned as he stared at the door before him. It was covered in music notes, and belonged to Virgil. The middle child, the powerhouse of the Tracy family. Heavy breaths could be heard, even outside the door. Virgil always was a heavy breather, and a heavy sleeper to boot. Nothing could wake him, short of the alaem that alerted them to a mission. The opposite to Scoot, Virgil was hell on earth to raise before 11am. Virgil slept in a nest of cosy blankets, and woe betide anyone who lifted those blankets, for they would be rewarded with a low growl, and be batted with a large hand. When Virgil did awake, and emerge from his cave, he refused to talk to anyone before he had had copious amounts of overly-sweetened, overly-caffeinated coffee. Even then, he didn't tell anyone 'good morning', until he had said it to his beloved Thunderbird Two.

From where he was standing outside , Jeff could hear the rustling of sheets as Gordon twisted and turned, no doubt getting caught up in his blankets. Again. Everything Gordon did, he threw himself into, and that included sleeping. Jeff stifled a grin as he thought of Gordon's latest prank. His fourth son, more squid than boy, would wake up, ready to take on the world at. And take on the world he had, with his Olympic Gold Medal, WASP medals, and his scars that ran down his back. Gordon would dive cleanly into the pool at 9am, powering through the cool water, just as he had powered through his struggles.

Alan. His little Allie-Bear. So young, with the world carried so carefully on his skinny shoulders. Yet, even with so much responsibility, Alan still found time to be a typical teenager. Jeff gave a wry. grin. Alan's snores reverberated around his room, from where he was sleeping on the... floor? His head resting on his arms, lanky legs stretched out behind him. Alan seemed to agree with Virgil on the sacred-ness of sleep, as he also struggled to get up before 10am, and would often have to be bribed with sugary cereal and cans of Red Bull. It wasn't something Jeff approved of, but he could live with it.

Yes, Jeff could live with all of this.