Disclaimer: I do not own the Thunderbirds.

CHAPTER 3

A few hours later Alan came home. They let him have his space knowing there was no way he could use again. They had ripped his room apart and thrown out everything they found. Virgil had locked up the drugs in the infirmary as a precaution.

Alan was impressed that they had found the pills. It's not like he had planned for the search. It was a split second hide. He would always get more when he went back to Wharton's. His dealer was always in summer school. Until then he could hold off on Aspirin or Tylenol. He went to the medicine cabinet to find it empty.

"Killjoys," Alan muttered.

The last thing he needed was them knowing he wanted something. This day had been a constant disappointment. He lay down on his bed and closed his eyes. He preferred his family thinking he was a drug addict than a weakling.

"We're about to go to bed. Do you need anything?" Virgil poked his head in his bedroom door.

Alan shook his head and turned his back to his brother. He felt a hand brush his shoulder. "We love you, Sprout." Alan pulled away on instinct and ignored the comment.

Once Virgil had closed his door Alan pushed his head into his pillow to muffle his screams. Why did they have to find out now? A week or two and he would have been back at Wharton's. Now they were going to make his life a living hell until they dug out the truth. Alan couldn't face the truth. He wasn't ready for his family to know.

"What are you two doing up?" Scott inquired as he walked into the kitchen.

Virgil and John were up working on their computers. "I'm refreshing my memory on drug abuse in adolescents."

"I can't sleep." John admitted.

Gordon stumbled into the kitchen. "Join the club."

"I'll make some coffee." Scott stated knowing they were in for a long night. They assumed their father was awake as well in his office.

They following morning the boys still hadn't gotten to sleep. "I was up late last night thinking and I have decided that despite yesterday's events Alan still needs to go to summer school." Jeff announced.

"We just found out that Alan is addicted to pain killers and you want to ship him off again." John argued.

"Stand down, Johnny. Let Dad explain first." Scott proposed.

"Alan needs consistency right now. I called my cousin David and he is more than happy to have Alan stay with him while Alan finishes his school work. Alan can see a psychiatrist a few times a week and will be drug tested regularly." Jeff elaborated.

"I still think that Alan should stay here. He needs his family right now." John stood to his instinct.

"I agree with Dad. All my research supports the best place for an addict to get clean is outside of the home and away from triggers." Virgil supported.

"Do I get a say in this at all? It is my life last time I checked." A voiced sounded from behind them.

"Of course you get a choice, Sprout." Scott stated.

"Really, because it sounds like everyone's mind is made up." Alan complained.

"We want what is best for you, Alan." Gordon got up and tried to wrap his arm around his brother. Alan moved away before he could.

"You just want to ship me off again. Is that your solution to everything?" Alan screamed at his father.

"That's enough!" Jeff commanded.

"If you send me away I swear it will be the last time you ever see me!" Alan threatened. He couldn't go back there again.

"Don't say things like that, Alan. We love you and we only want to help." Virgil pleaded.

Alan huffed, "You never listen to me!"

Alan walked out and up to his bedroom. "I'll go talk to him." Scott said without waiting for opposing opinions.

Alan ran into his bathroom without hesitation and started punching the mirror repetitively. How had things spiraled so far off course? When was he going to be safe? Imagines flashed through Alan's eyes as he continued throwing items around the room. He could hear Scott yelling through the bedroom door in desperation. Alan collapsed on the floor and cradled his head in his hands as he cried.

"Alan!" Scott called as he forced the door open. His heart broke at the sight in front of him. His little brother was curled up on the floor crying covered in blood.

Scott wasted no time in calling Vigil for help. The rest of the family rushed in behind Virgil. The doctor leaned over Alan and started to examine him. "What can we do?" Jeff inquired.

"Give us some space, Dad." Virgil ordered everyone else from the bathroom and closed the door. He could tell that Alan's hand was scrapped up, but not severe. It was his brother's emotional state that worried him the most. He was having a full blown panic attack.

"I need you to breath for me, Alan, slowly, in and out." Virgil whispered as he rubbed comforting circles on his back. Alan instantly crawled away and became more frantic. Virgil held up his hands in surrender. "It's just you and me Alan." Alan continued to shake violently as his eyes closed. The doctor kept his distance and observed his brother's behavior for a few minutes.

"What happened? Is everything okay?" Scott was surprised to see Virgil leave Alan unattended in the bathroom.

Virgil shook his head. "I couldn't get Alan to calm down so I'm giving him some space."

"Is it the drugs?" Jeff wondered.

"This has nothing to do with drugs, Dad." Virgil was trying to think through what he had seen.

Gordon was getting impatient. "Alan just punched his mirror to smithereens! Looks like drugs to me!" He huffed.

"If this was related to the drugs Alan would have been yelling at Scott for busting open the door." Virgil justified. "Alan wasn't manic or angry, Gordon. He was terrified and completely oblivious to us being in the room."

"What do you mean?" John questioned.

Virgil had only seen one other person display that type of blind terror when they were in a safe place. "It looked like PTSD to me." He stated.

"PTSD? Like what soldiers get in combat?" Gordon sounded confused.

Jeff held up his hand to stop the conversation. "I could understand the PTSD if Alan had come on rescues with us, but he hasn't been in action Virgil. How could Alan have PTSD when he has suffered no trauma?" Jeff interrogated the doctor.

"There was the Hood incident." John remembered.

"Yeah, but he was using before that." Gordon reminded.

"I don't know, but it was pretty obvious that Alan was having an episode. I thought he was having a panic attack at first until I touched him." Virgil elaborated.

"What did he do?" John pondered.

Virgil took a seat on the chair next to his father. "He flipped out, crawled away, and started shaking. All signs that he was reliving some type of traumatic event."

Gordon considered his brothers words. "He freaked out when I tried to take his temperature this morning." He revealed.

"Why didn't you say anything sooner?" Scott asked sternly.

Gordon shrugged, "I thought he was pissed off and high."

"What did he say when you touched him?" Virgil questioned.

Gordon couldn't get the words out of his mind. "He screamed, 'Get your hands off me and you're not allowed to touch me.'" The crimson haired boy repeated.

"Maybe you caught him off guard." Scott reasoned.

"I better go check on him." Virgil got up and left the room.

When he entered the bathroom Alan was still on the ground, but he was sitting up. He seemed overall more composed. "Hey Allie," Virgil knelt down to his brother's level to meet his eyes. "Are you okay?"

Alan nodded slightly, "My hand hurts."

Virgil didn't comment on his brothers actions. If Alan wanted to explain himself he would. The doctor took Alan's hand and started to clean it. There were a few fragments from the mirror, but nothing deep enough to need stitches.

"Do you want something for the pain?" Virgil knew his father would hate the offer.

Surprisingly Alan shook his head in denial. "It looks bad, but I think it's only a sprain." Virgil informed as he finished bandaging his brother's wrist and hand.

Alan looked at the floor and didn't respond. "You should get some sleep." Virgil helped Alan off the floor and guided him into bed. He was careful not to touch him since both Gordon and he had witnessed the phobia first hand. "Let me know if you need some pain killers."

"How is he?" John asked as soon as he saw Virgil come down the stairs.

"He let me clean his hand up. It didn't need stitches." The medic said as he washed his hands in the kitchen sink.

Jeff nodded at his son's diagnosis. "I offered him some pain killers." Virgil admitted.

"You did what?" Scott hollered.

"He said his hand hurt so I offered. He refused them." Virgil was still surprised.

Gordon and Scott shared confused glances. "Why would he refuse the drugs if he was addicted?" Jeff wondered.

Virgil shrugged in response. "Maybe he takes them to forget emotional pain." John hypothesized.

After the long day everyone was exhausted. Thankfully they hadn't gotten any emergency mission during this whole family crisis. Their luck ran out the following morning when the klaxon sounded. Jeff, Scott, Virgil, and Gordon left immediately while John and Brains handled the communication between the thunderbirds and the authorities involved. Brains and Fermat were up on five.

Alan woke up around seven to a throbbing pain in his hand. He removed the bandages to look at the damage he had inflicted. It was sore, but not unbearable.

"How's the hand?" John asked from the doorway.

Alan shrugged, "It felt better before I punched the mirror."

John laughed before taking a seat on the bed next to his brother. "Are you okay?" The astronaut asked worriedly.

Alan folded his legs into his chest defensively. "I'm fine."

John smiled as he brushed his brother's hair roughly. "I love you, Sprout."

Alan accepted the affection openly. "You didn't eat much yesterday. Are you hungry?" John knew that his family was finishing the mission and Alan could come downstairs without judgment.

Alan and John were just finishing breakfast when the boys got back from the mission. "Please tell me you left some for me." Gordon joked as he sat next to Alan.

That was the one thing Alan liked about Gordon. He always acted normal even when things were falling apart. "There's plenty." John added.

"How's the hand?" Gordon blurted. Jeff and Scott tensed at the question.

"It felt fine till you brought it up again." Alan snapped.

Gordon shot Alan an angry glance. "Sorry for caring." Gordon argued.

Alan shot out of his seat in frustration. "Don't even pretend like you care about me?" He snarled as he fled the room.

"Nice going little brother." John stated sarcastically. "He was perfectly fine till you egged him on."