Angels Among Us

Disclaimer - Did not get either Thunderbirds or Supernatural for Christmas. Did get several Supernatural clothing items and an awesome book of fan fiction stories. And of course, do not own the Alabama song, Angels Among Us.

Will explain this inspiration after you read...But just so you know, if you've read "Payment in Kind", "Calling in a Marker" (Thunderbirds/Supernatural Crossovers) and "Just Passing Through" (Supernatural AU/ slight TB Xover, with the intent that Sam didn't go to Hell at Stull. He was instead nearly killed, stopped the Apocalypse and ended up in a wheelchair for life. He and Dean became semi-retired, moved back to Kansas and...well, read the story. A lot of people liked it.

So...Merry Christmas. Here's my present to you.


Alan Tracy ran his hand over his face, exhaustion in every bone of his body. Listening with half an ear, he could hear children from a local church singing "O Holy Night" but the peace that song usually brought him was escaping him this year.

"Merry Christmas," Alan muttered sarcastically his words lost among the beeps from the machinery next to him. He had already been disappointed that his two of his daughters, Samantha and Valerie, wouldn't be able to make it back to Tracy Island for his family's Christmas Eve celebration. Sammie's unit was on duty, she had been lucky to get a three day pass to visit him Washington DC during his latest book tour. (Val was an on-call resident at Mass General but at least she had made it home for Thanksgiving.) Alan had known he should be glad to see Sammie for a couple days, before flying home himself.

"Well," he sighed, reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair from Samantha's face. "We did get to spend Christmas together after all, baby girl."

Four days earlier, Alan had been in a Barnes and Noble, sipping on a half-caf low fat Vanilla latte and smiling at yet another fan who was gushing on how "your books have changes my world view" and tried not to giggle. If Sammie would show up – he would laugh. God knows his oldest daughter always did at moments like that.

Alan's smile grew – the fan thought it was due to her compliment – at the thought of his firstborn. No matter what, Sammie could always make her father smile. Alan glanced around, sure any second now, the young Air Force pilot would be walking into the store.

Instead of Sammie, however, an Air Force Colonel had walked in and asked to speak to Alan in private.

"Mr. Tracy," Colonel McGuyver had said to him in a grim voice. "I'm here about your daughter, Lieutenant Samantha Tracy."

Alan pushed down the feeling of unease that had been bothering him for several hours. "Sammie? She's supposed to be meeting me here, she has a seventy two hour pass. She's a bit late, which really isn't like her, Sammie is always on time and she never gets in trouble. With five kids, it was always something of a relief to have one kid you never worried about. She's so responsible -"

Alan knew he was babbling by this point but he knew. Damn it, he knew. Since she had been born, Sammie and Alan had enjoyed an amazing connection.

"We've tried to keep it quiet for the moment, but all flights are being cancelled as we speak – and that is practically a world wide situation – so it will soon be widely known. Terrorist forces, led by Pak Wheesung -"

"Yes, the Jug-eumgwa Eodum," Alan interrupted, looking rather pale. "A terrorist group that emerged from the Korean Peninsula a few years ago led by him has caused a great deal of problems in the last few years. Please, Colonel. My daughter and oldest nephew are both military and both my daughter Joanna and nephew Michael travels a great deal and have had to change plans on occasion because of the activities of that group." Alan didn't mention the effect of hearing the group's name – and learning the translation – had affected him.

He wasn't sure if the man would have believed him even if he did.

"Your daughter's squadron intercepted the terrorists, who were launching simultaneous global attacks. Twenty seven nations have all experienced attacks. The good news is that the group overextended itself. Or perhaps they were counting on local support that fell through. In many cases, air attacks, ala 9/11, were followed up by bombings. Death counts around the world are estimated to be reaching a million lost – and counting. But local authorities fought back and in many places, the terrorists are either dead or on the run."

"And in America?" Alan asked cautiously.

"We're keeping an eye out for any bombers," Colonel McGuyver assured him. "But so far, no civilian casualties."

Alan could read between the lines on that statement. "But there were military casualties?" Please not Sammie, please not Sammie, please not Sammie...

The colonel looked grim. "Two members of Lieutenant Tracy's squadron were killed. Six others are on their way to Bethesda, three in critical condition."

"My daughter?"

"She was headed into immediate surgery the last I heard," Colonel McGuyver said. "I have a car waiting for you. You can call your family from the car. But...I think you'll want to come as quickly as possible."

"And that was four days, seven hours, thirty eight minutes ago, right, Sammie?" Alan said quietly. Because of the attacks – two nuclear bombs had been found and safely disarmed within the United States – no one could fly to join Alan in his vigil by his daughter's bedside. Jo and Michael were still in Europe, most of the rest of the family was still on the Island and even though Valerie was only a few hours away, Alan knew all medical personnel were needed. His third daughter was currently getting ready to head out with other doctors, nurses and other medics to one of the pre-approved areas in Europe...or was she heading with a group to Asia? Alan was too tired to recall.

The doctors had explained that Sammie, suffering from a tear in her lung, broken ribs, a broken leg (that in three places) and a skull fracture, was lucky to be alive. In order to allow her time to recover, they had placed her in a medically induced coma. Alan had worked for International Rescue for years, had seen horrific injuries, but having words like "brain swelling", "blood loss" and "severe trauma" connected with his child are phrases no parent wants to hear.

Ever.

Outside at the nurses' station, Kelly Lawson looked over at the room directly across from her. It wasn't that there were two members of the legendary Tracy family in there, one author AS Tracy ("Call me Alan, I think my father is here when you say Mr. Tracy") and the other a woman who was being called a national hero for her daredevil flying that helped stop a major terrorist attack. No, what kept drawing Kelly's eyes to the room was the singular devotion the man showed to his daughter. Alan had said he wasn't leaving his daughter alone and there was no one who could convince him otherwise.

Well, at least he had agreed to use the sleeper chair Kelly had managed to snag from another ward. But if Alan Tracy didn't agree to get some real sleep and eat something besides what came out of the nearby vending machine soon, Kelly was worried she'd have another patient on her hands.

"Hi," a pair of bright green eyes smiled at her. An older man, with a military style haircut, going to gray, and bright green eyes, smiled at her. "We're here to see Samantha Tracy."

Kelly stood firm. "You and every other reporter in the country," she snapped. "I don't know how you got past security, but..."

"Please," a new voice added and Kelly turned before adjusting her eyes downward to a man in a wheelchair. Soft chestnut hair with a few silver streaks curled around a face with the biggest hazel eyes she had ever seen...

"Can you just tell Alan that Sam and Dean are here?" Puppy-dog eyes asked with a disarming smile.

Kelly didn't know why she didn't call security. But she stood up and walked over to Lieutenant Tracy's room. Moments later, she came back out, confusion on her face.

"Please, come with me," the nurse said, gesturing towards the room.

"We're cool," the wheelchair bound man said, rolling himself towards the room, the second man following quickly behind him.

Alan didn't look up until he heard a familiar voice.

"Long time, no see, Kid," a gruff voice said.

Alan smiled slightly. "Back at ya, Old Man."

Sam Winchester smiled as he rolled himself into the room, positioning himself next to Alan.

"How are you holding up?"

Alan sucked in his breath before turning to look at the brothers. "Sam and Dean Winchester, how are you two still alive?"

Dean's face was hard but his eyes had softened. "According to your kid there, Sam being alive is in part thanks to you and yours. In fact, it's something of a ritual – check us out after driving away from the Tracy Farm and heading off for college."

Alan looked the brothers up and down. Years ago, in college, an angry spirit had tried to kill him. Kate and Scott had found the best ghost hunters out there, the Winchester Brothers and hired them to protect him.

Ok, so Kate had kidnapped Sam to do it. But it wasn't like Sam had been in a wheelchair back then...

"Must be a thing for people from Kansas," Alan smiled. "We pay our debts."

"You paid us," Dean shrugged. "Then your, um, "family business" saved us. We were even."

"They tell me Sammie's actions saved millions of people," Alan mused. "That my little girl stopped what was supposed to be the worst of the terrorist attacks. Over one and a half million people died in Europe and Asia – at least that many should have died here. But they didn't thanks to Sammie. In fact, the terrorist group is in disarray. It hasn't been announced, but the group's leader, Pak Weesung was so sure of his victory, he led the attacks here. With his death, their movement has failed. And if you hadn't saved me all those years ago in Boston, Sammie would have never been born. So when you think about you, you two helped save the world."

Dean shrugged. "Wouldn't have been the first or last time."

Alan shook his head with laughter which turned into sobs.

Dean stepped forward putting his hands on both Alan and Sam's shoulders. "Sammy, I'm taking Alan for a walk, get him something to eat. Then," he firmly said to Alan, "you are going to lie back in that chair and get some sleep, got it? Sam and I will watch over your little girl."

Sam smiled at Alan as Dean led the blond from the room before turning to Sammie. "As a wise man once said, "Family don't end with blood." We'll be here for you and your dad as long as you need us, Sammie."

An hour later, Alan and Dean returned, the younger man looking better for some real food, fresh air and a quick shower.

"Now," Dean said with the firmness with which he had raised one stubborn, pain-in-the-ass little brother and bullied Alan into taking a break. "You, in that chair, shoes off and blanket on. Get some sleep. Sam and I have this watch."

As Alan drifted off, he heard the children's choir once more singing, smiling as he heard one of his grandmother's favorite songs.

I believe there are Angels Among Us,
Sent down to us from somewhere up above.
They come to you and me in our darkest hours
To show us how to live
To teach us how to give
To guide us with a light of love.

When life held troubled times
And had me down on my knees
There's always been someone
To come along and comfort me
A kind word from a stranger
To lend a helping hand
A phone call from a friend
Just to say I understand
Now ain't it kind of funny
At the dark end of the road
Someone light the way with just a single ray of hope.

"Mr. Tracy finally resting?" Angie from radiology asked as she stood behind Kelly, watching the room from the desk.

"Yes, some relatives, cousins I think. They were saying something about Kansas," Kelly shrugged. "I'm just glad someone could finally make it here to be with them. I was getting so worried about him. They came just in the nick of time."

"His own personal guardian angels," Angie smiled.

"A Christmas miracle," Kelly joked before returning to her paperwork. Angie smiled and left.

Five days later, as travel bans were lifted, the other Tracys began to join Alan and Sammie, just as she was regaining consciousness and beginning her long road to recovery. But the brothers were already gone, back to the quiet life they had built in Kansas…

Because that's what angels do.

They wear so many faces,
Show up in the strangest places
And grace us with their mercies in our time of need

I believe there are angels among us…

A/N - Last night, Christmas Eve, is the big deal in my family. Today I was supposed to get up, go over to my mom's early and start dinner. But when I got there I found my mother was in horrible pain. I finally convinced her to go to the hospital (OK, I bullied her to doing it). She is resting now, plenty of pain meds. The cancer caused some further gastro problems and it took most of the day for testing and getting stabilized. My sister, who was up north with her husband's family today, came in the late afternoon and told me to go home, get some real food and relax with my husband and daughter. After we ate, Tom and Jane took me to an evening showing of "Night at the Museum 3". Mom is in the hospital, medicated and resting. I am home and grateful for my own angels.

Merry Christmas to all...