Author: Writer With Sprite
Title: Silent Boy
Summary: Scott turned around, only to be face-to-face with a man holding a gun to Alan's head, unknowingly turning to the man who had made Alan be silent for two years of his life.
A/N: This is my first Thunderbird FanFiction. It does not include International Rescue, which has not been born yet, and most other characters. It focuses around the Tracy family. It is rated T for safety and some bad language. I have adjusted the Tracys' ages.
I appreciate any and all criticism and feedback, and I will attempt to reply to each review. Thank you for reading.
## break ##
Twenty-six-year-old Scott Tracy stepped into the kitchen, taking refuge in the sounds of the silence. Eighteen year old Gordon and twenty year old Virgil were already up that morning, and were already at war. Scott checked his watch and frowned. It was unusual for Alan to sleep through breakfast, and it was really unusual for him to sleep later than nine o'clock.
Of course, it was Saturday, and Alan was almost a teenager. His birthday would be next week.
"Good morning," Scott said, flashing a grin at his youngest brother, glad to see him awake. He handed him the leftover plate of his grandmothers' food. "How are you this morning?"
I'm good, Alan signed with a smile.
One again, Scott sighed inwardly, although he was careful not to let his reflection show. Alan had spoken fine up until the time he was ten, but had then ceased to speak entirely. Jeff had called in some of the best doctors to find out what was wrong with his son, but none of them had any idea. There seemed to be nothing wrong with Alan's vocal cords. The problem seemed to be more physiological.
Jeff had hired on a therapist, full-time, who knew sign language. The first year had been spent mostly getting Alan to communicate. Now that Alan could communicate in sign language, he did. All five of the Tracy brothers, and Jeff, knew sign language. Jeff also made it a stipulation for any help he hired. In his interviews, Jeff often asked, "How do you feel about deaf people?" If the person didn't like them, they weren't hired. Jeff had gotten some great new people for his company who seemed to care for Alan, so Scott supposed that was one good thing that came out of why Alan wouldn't speak.
Scott, however, was curious, and he wanted to know why his brother wasn't speaking. Still, he knew that it was the psychologist's job to find out, not his. "What are you doing this morning?" Scott asked as his brother dug into his meal with his usual gusto.
I don't know. What are you doing? Alan signed back with a happy smile. He really enjoyed running on mornings with Scott.
"Taking a run," Scott admitted with a grin. "Would you like to come?"
Alan nodded.
"I'll grab your shoes as I'm grabbing mine," Scott said. "Finish your breakfast. Oh, and try not to go by the pool. Gordon, Virgil, and John are having war."
Alan flashed him a smile, and Scott smiled back. Even though Alan couldn't talk, he could communicate, and for that, Scott was very grateful. He liked Alan's psychologist, and found himself talking to him often. The man was full of wisdom and great ideas.
"Hi, Chris," Scott said as he greeted Alan's therapist. Chris didn't like being called "Dr Hatchet", he felt that made him too old. He liked being addressed as someone plain and simple. When Jeff learned that Chris had double-majored in teaching, he'd also hired him on as Alan's tutor. If Alan hadn't regained his voice by high school, Jeff had said, he would send his son to a public school. Still, Jeff was hoping that time at home would heal his youngest son.
"Good morning, Scott. How are things this morning?" Chris asked with a smile.
His first week here Chris had learned often that asking "how are you" did not get a straight answer from the Tracy brothers. They just didn't like relaying their feelings unless deemed necessary, especially to strangers. He switched his tactic after that. "Things are going fine. You might avoid the pool, however. The terrible three are at it again," Scott replied, knowing that the man would know exactly what he meant.
Chris nodded with a grin. "And how is Alan this morning?"
"Fairly well, thank you. I'm going to go for a run with him; would you like to talk with him after that?"
"That would work well for me as long as he would like that." One of the best things about Chris, Scott thought, was that he didn't push; he seemed to know when someone was ready to talk, or in Alan's case, communicate, and he did not push them to talk.
Scott nodded as he went towards his room, hearing the familiar shouts from the pool as he saw Virgil dunk Gordon yet again. The best thing his father had ever done, he thought, was get the swimming pool. He grabbed his shoes, threw them on, and jogged to Alan's room. He turned off the stereo to save electric as he grabbed Alan's Nikey's and headed back towards the kitchen. He placed them on the floor.
Alan smiled and threw his paper plate in the trash as he laced up his Nikeys. He paused as he got to the top; it was something he always struggled with. He glanced at Scott, who just smiled and helped Alan tie his shoes. Alan was extremely smart, but the psychologist said that he was struggling with hand-to-eye coordination, and that tying his shoes – and some other seemingly simple tasks – would be difficult for him. The psychologist said that Alan likely had a nonverbal learning disability, and that the best thing the Tracys could do would be just help him through it.
"Let's go," Scott said. Alan smiled again and followed him out of the house.
## break ##
Scott loved the feeling of running. He loved the feeling of his feet hitting the pavement, going slap-slap-slap on the ground. He enjoyed taking off and leaving his worries behind. For him, running was a form of therapy. If he could still run, that meant that everything would be alright. Alan seemed to have taken after him in this department; he enjoyed running and excelled at it also.
This morning, however, Scott felt like something was off. Not with Alan, he seemed to be doing fine, but with the beach. The beach usually felt calm and peaceful, and for whatever reason, it wasn't feeling like that this morning.
When Scott found the man in the clearing, he wondered if that was why. The Tracys had their own private island, which they had officially named the Tracy Island but what they'd nicknamed Alan's getaway, in, as Gordon put it, "loving memory of their younger brother." Alan loved the island the most out of all of them. Scott was personally glad for the island; it was a place where Alan could get away and be normal, despite his disabilities.
He held up his hand as he stopped, making the universal sign for silence as he glanced at Alan. "Alan, do me a favor and just sit tight, okay? I'm going to see if he needs any help."
Alan nodded. He sat down on the grass, overlooking the waves. Scott particularly enjoyed running close to the beach – that was his favorite activity. "Can I help you?" he asked the man. The Tracys didn't mind visitors to the island, but they were also cautious. Jeff was a multi-billionaire, and as such, had made plenty of enemies along the way.
The man glanced at him. "Who are you?" he asked, wearily.
Scott didn't like the man's body language. He was tense. Scott suspected he was here because of a wreck; which would explain the man's tense demeanor, but something seemed… off. He couldn't explain it, he couldn't put a finger on it, but something just did not seem right.
"Scott Tracy. My father owns this island," Scott explained. He sighed as he thought about Alan, who he'd left only a few feet behind him.
"Good," he heard a voice from behind him say. Scott turned around, only to be face-to-face with a man holding a gun to Alan's head. He didn't know it, but he was turning to the man who had made Alan be silent for two years of his life. "Then you're just the one we're looking for. We even get an added bonus," he said with a grin. "We were only going to kidnap one Tracy."
Scott felt his heart lurch.
## time lapse ##
Gordon pulled himself out of the pool, toweling off. He really enjoyed swimming and wished that he could do it for longer, but he had some coursework to do. He smiled as he glanced at John, who had changed already. "Took you long enough," John said with a pleasant grin.
"I enjoy swimming," Gordon defended. He frowned as he looked at John's watch. "Hey, John, is the contact button beeping again?"
John grimaced as he checked his watch. Sure enough, the emergency alert button was functioning. The color was blue. The boys had a built-in protection feature on their watch; when they pressed a specific button, it would alert the others that they were in trouble. Jeff had worked in a code for added protection. Scott's color was blue, John's was red, Virgil's was green, Gordon's was purple, and Alan's was yellow; each of the boy's favorite colors. It let anyone who was currently watching them instantly aware of the situation.
The boys also had built in tracking devices to their watches. It was one of the many safety devices they had at their desposal for their protection. Their father was a multi-billionaire, and, although he tried to do his best by everyone, he'd still made a lot of people angry along the way and he knew it. He wanted to protect his sons from any potential greed and harm.
"Scott," John muttered tersely. Gordon nodded, instantly at an alert and serious status. Scott was the least likely to push his button.
Chris, the psychologist-slash-tutor that Jeff had hired for Alan after Alan had stopped speaking, came into the room. "Is something wrong, John?" he asked, noting the look on the boy's face.
"Scott sounded a distress signal," John said, already moving to the electronic room where he knew his father was. Without knocking, he opened the door, marching straight to their father. Chris and Gordon followed suit.
"Did you get the alert, Father?" John asked, as he looked at Jeff.
Jeff nodded. "I did, and I am currently tracing his watch location right now. It seems to be in one location, but I think someone is interfering with the signals. Can you please get Alan and Virgil?"
Chris winced. "Alan went on a run with Scott this morning," he said. "Maybe something happened on the run."
"Oh, boy," Jeff said, obviously remembering the last time his youngest son was in trouble. "Gordon, go get Virgil. I may need his help. John, if I can't trace this watch alert in the next five minutes, we're going to issue a search. Start planning."
"Yes, Father," Jeff responded with a nod.
## break ##
Scott couldn't tear his eyes away from the gun on his brother's head. "Look, just let him go and I'll do anything you want. Please don't take him."
The man dissolved into laughter. "Sorry, no can do; we were counting on this one. We weren't counting on you."
Swallowing hard, Scott said, "Just… let me hold him. He can't talk; I'll cooperate if you release him." What terrified Scott the most was the gun held to his brother's head. And the fact that since Alan didn't talk, he would have no way to communicate with the men.
The man roughly shoved Alan to the ground, forcing the boy to the floor. "So little Alan has been a good boy, hmm?" he said with a smile. "Alan has been following my orders."
Scott picked up Alan, his stomach sick inside. He recognized the man instantly. It was one of the men his father had fired from a long time ago, when Alan was about ten. The man had been abusing Alan. It had taken Scott two weeks to notice what was wrong, and three weeks to figure out exactly what. The man had then abducted John when Scott had learned he was abusing Alan. Although John had eventually been released, that time period was a nightmare for them all. "Jonathan," he breathed with a sick feeling in his gut.
"Indeed." Jonathan flashed a sick smile, and Alan buried himself in the fabric of Scott's shirt. Scott's grip on him tightened. "You know, your brother really cares about you. If he's not speaking, that means that he's done exactly as I said," he responded.
Confusion fell over Scott's face. "Done… exactly… as you said?" he asked.
"Yes," Jonathan responded. He gestured with his gun for Scott to get up, and Scott reluctantly followed. He kept a tight grip on Alan, not wanting him to be hurt again. Jonathan paused as he looked at his partner; the man was someone who Scott didn't recognize. "Wait a minute. Your watches, cell phones; everything. I want them taken off. Give them to Daniel, there."
Daniel opened a plastic bag with a smirk. Scott's heart sunk as he took off his watch and helped Alan take off his. That would be the last easy hope that his father had of finding them. He took out his cell phone, which he'd carried with him only for an emergency. He didn't have anything else on him.
"Nothing else?" Daniel asked. His voice was familiar, but Scott couldn't place it. Scott only nodded.
Jonathan talked to Daniel in a rapid fire voice, using another language that Scott guessed was Russian. He couldn't tell, though; John was the language expert. When they were finished, Daniel went off on some task that Jonathan seemed to have assigned to him.
"Come to the halo we have built for this occasion," Jonathan responded. "When our boat shipwrecked on this shore, we were at first desolate. Then I realized where I was and rejoiced. I could finally get revenge on the Tracy brothers."
## break ##
Gordon and Virgil were currently running on the mainland. They'd gotten a track on Alan's watch and it was moving. "There!" Gordon pointed, the signal dead speed ahead. John stopped. "I don't see Alan," he responded.
"I don't see Scott," Gordon muttered as he glanced at the device he held in his hand. He swore. "Do you recognize him?"
Virgil nodded darkly. The man was Daniel Featherstone, a man who Jeff had hired for his New York branch of the industry. He had been fired and arrested when his brother, Jonathan Featherstone, had been arrested for abusing Alan. Daniel was suspected of abusing Alan as well, but he had been the one who had kidnapped John in attempt to get his brother free.
"Let's go get him," Virgil nodded. After two minutes of discussion, they came up with a plan. Virgil approached the man first. Gordon hung back in the shadows, ready to get extra help if needed. He'd already sent a text to his father, and knew that his father would have the authorities down on them in minutes if necessary.
"Can I help you?" Virgil asked. The man whirled around, obviously stunned. It was then when Virgil attacked. Virgil was the strongest of all of them and had a black belt in karate. Daniel was down within seconds.
Gordon grinned. Maybe now they could start getting some answers about what had happened to Scott and Alan.
## break ##
Scott sighed as he helped Alan to the floor. He swallowed hard, noting how Jonathan's gun never seemed to leave his head. He flashed back to something his friend in the FBI had said once. 'When you're being held hostage, it's very important to build a reputation with the hostage-taker. The more they talk to you, the less likely they are to kill you. That's Hostage Training 101 summed up into two sentences, my friend."
"Why did you say something earlier about Alan following orders?" Scott demanded. He wanted to know. If this son of a bitch was the reason Alan wasn't speaking, he would not be held accountable for his actions.
Jonathan smiled. "I told Alan, when I left, that if he said a word, that I would come back to haunt him. I followed all the trials. Alan never said a word. I'm proud of you, Alan," he responded, and ruffled Alan's hair.
Scott felt sick. The doctors were right – there was a reason why Alan wasn't speaking, and it wasn't because he had any damage to his vocal cords. "You sick son of a…"
Jonathan backhanded him across the face. "Now, now," he responded, "language." He smiled as he took Scott's cell phone, the one item he'd kept. "Which number is Daddy's?"
"The first one," Scott said. Sure, he could play hero if it was just by himself. Truth be told, if it was just him, he would have knocked the man out already, but he had Alan to think about. He couldn't let Alan be hurt by his actions.
Jonathan rested his finger on the trigger and dialed Jeff.
## break ##
Jeff's phone rang, and he breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Scott's number flash on the screen. "Scott!" he said, breathlessly. "What happened?"
"Now, now," a mocking voice said over the speakerphone. John turned instantly towards his father. That wasn't good. "If you want Scott and Alan to live, you'll do exactly as I say…"
"I want to talk to Scott," Jeff demanded. The phone rustled and he could hear a man's voice in the background. "Say hello to your daddy," the somewhat familiar voice said.
"Dad," John hissed in the background, "Jonathan."
Jeff's face darkened. He would never forget the man who had been arrested on the charges of abusing his son. "Scott?" he asked.
"Alan and I are fine, Dad," Scott responded, although Jeff could tell his eldest was anything but fine. He didn't sound hurt, but Jeff could tell that he wasn't fine either. They would have a talk when Scott got home, but that hardly mattered now. "He-,"
The phone was ripped out of Scott's hands and it sounded like it was followed by a punch. John swore softly to himself. "I want two million dollars apiece for our sons' safe return, Jeff. I'm sure you have that much money on this island. I'm sure you'll call the cops as well; good luck getting them to find us. I'll call you in two hours to tell you the drop."
"Father, we're—," a slap was ensued and the phone instantly cut off. John sighed. The tracer was still being jammed, and he couldn't figure out by what.
"That voice sounded familiar," Jeff responded darkly. "Can you place it?"
John thought for a moment. It did sound familiar. "Father, I think it might have been Jonathan, that man who you arrested for…"
Jeff groaned and cast his eyes heavenward, as if asking for a silent prayer. "Well, we might be in more trouble than we thought. I want law enforcement officers here immediately."
John nodded, taking his phone. "Father, he said 'this island', not 'your island.' It sounded as if perhaps he might be on this island or close."
"It's something to consider. Chris said that they only went for a run a few hours ago, so it's unlikely that they had time to move too far." Jeff sighed. "I'll take care of calling law enforcement; there's some people I want to talk to. Go start planning a search."
## break ##
Virgil kept an arm on the man's, pinning him down. Gordon had sent off a text message a second ago for John for help. "Who do you work for?" Gordon demanded. "Why are you on this island?"
"Is this the way you treat all your guests?" Daniel spat.
"Hardly," Virgil responded, "We usually throw them a party. But you made one mistake, dude," he said, his face twisting into one of disgust.
Gordon nodded vigorously. "You kidnapped John, and probably helped abuse Alan. And," he added darkly, "No one messes with a Tracy…"
"But a Tracy," Virgil replied. "We may have money, but we still look out for each other. I'll give you three seconds to talk before you are wanted by every single law enforcement agency in the world."
The man laughed. "The Tracy name sure has power, but I doubt even Lord Jeff himself has that much power."
Gordon's eyes met Virgil's. It had been three minutes since Gordon had sent John the emergency text, and Gordon hoped that John would send in backup soon. "Talk, or I'm going to forget I'm the good guy and start breaking bones," Gordon growled, his voice making it clear that he would not hesitate to do what he asked.
"Okay, okay!" Daniel said, and Virgil could feel him shudder. Gordon dived, pinning down the man's legs. If they wanted to capture this man, they'd have to wait until John got there. "It was Jonathan's idea. He wanted to get revenge on Alan for turning him in, and he wanted a little money too. I mean, everyone knows that Jeff's so rich he wouldn't blink at missing something, ya'know?"
"We know," Gordon growled angrily. They were constantly reminded of it. Although Gordon liked the island, he wasn't sure he liked being rich. Although it did have its privileges sometimes…
"Anyway, we were talking about doing it. We decided to take a boat to sea, but it crashed, and we were really bummed out. We weren't sure how we'd survive on an abandoned island. Except…" the man said with a grin, "It was this island."
"Shit," Gordon muttered the explosive perfect for his mood. How dare someone invade their home. Okay, sure, an island was a big home – but it was theirs. This personal attack, on their island, would no doubt leave a big mark on both Scott and Alan. "So you're saying he's holding Scott and Alan hostage somewhere on the island?"
Daniel remained silent, face to the ground. "I've already told you too much already," he said with a shrug.
It was then when Gordon noticed the newcomers. Backup; what a welcome relief.
"Unless you want a death sentence and a needle," the familiar voice of Jeff Tracy growled, "I suggest that you start talking, and tell me where my sons are."
## break ##
Scott shifted uncomfortably. The makeshift storage barn was small and cramped, and Alan, who was terrified, was sitting on Scott's lap. Alan was trying to be brave – Scott could see it in his eyes – but he was clearly upset. It didn't help that Jonathan had seen it fit to take out some of his anger on Scott earlier. Blood had trickled down Scott's cheek, and had freaked Alan out. Scott couldn't blame him – it had freaked him out, too.
Jonathan was pacing, walking back and forth across the hall. He was furious, that much was evident. Scott swallowed hard. "I thought that man would be back by now," Jonathan growled. He exhaled slowly. "It looks like I'm just going to have to deal with the two of you on my own."
"You could always just let us go," Scott suggested, knowing that Jonathan wouldn't take it but hoping that he would.
Jonathan rolled his eyes. "Hardly, that would be far too easy, wouldn't it?" he said, flashing a grin. "But it is nice to know that Alan has been following orders," he added, rubbing his fingers against Alan's cheek as a father would a son. Alan buried himself inside Scott's shirt once more.
"Leave your hands off of him," Scott demanded, wrapping his arms around his brother.
"Oh, no, he's far too fun to mess with," Jonathan said. "As soon as I have my money, he and I are going far, far away."
"You can't take him," Scott spat, now more furious at the man than he had been previously. "My father will have every law enforcement agency in the world looking for him."
"Tsk, tsk, tsk, Scott. Your father may have power… but I don't think he's got connections with all of the governments," Jonathan said. "If you want, you could come with me, instead."
"If it meant getting Alan out of your hands, I would in a heartbeat," Scott said, feeling his "protective-older-brother" mode kick in.
They heard a voice outside the door. "This is the FBI! Surrender at once!"
## break ##
Gordon, Virgil and John were far away from the action – about half a mile; close enough to be of help should they be needed but far enough away not to bother someone or get in the way of the FBI. Daniel had finally confessed that they were hiding Scott and Alan in the makeshift barn. Gordon had wanted to storm in there, but the FBI had arrived and hard started to take over, and said that if they stormed in there, there was a good chance of someone getting shot.
It seemed like hours, but eventually, Jonathan was driven out. Well, he probably technically surrendered. He was handcuffed quickly and moved out of sight.
"Well," Gordon said, shakily, "That nightmare is over with."
Scott and Alan were led out. Scott had been hurt, that much was clear from the blood on his cheek. It seemed to have dried and Gordon could only hope he hadn't been hurt too deeply. Alan seemed to be okay, much to Gordon's relief. All three brothers and their father had been worried that he might be hurt because he couldn't speak.
"Scott! Alan!" Gordon was the first one there, and embraced both of them in a hug. "I'm so glad you're okay and that this is over."
"As am I, but it's not quite over," Scott said. He knelt down and forced Alan to look at him. "Alan, I heard what Jonathan said, about telling you he couldn't talk."
"He what?" Gordon exclaimed, and he saw their father strolling over, an equally furious look on his face.
"He said that Alan couldn't talk or he'd punish us. Alan, I'm the oldest brother; it's my job to protect you rascals. I thank you very much for how brave you were," Scott said, knowing that he couldn't undermine what Alan had gone through, "but you should not have been forced to do that. It's okay, Alan. Jonathan's locked up. He won't hurt you again."
Alan nodded and let himself be wrapped up in an embrace by both Jeff and Scott. It was only then when the Tracy family heard from the youngest who they'd been longing to hear from for a little over two years. It was a muffled, "Th'nk you, Scott."