Long updates are surprisingly down to me working on this fic, there is so much I wish to correct in the past chapters but I am currently striving to make everything in the future ones as good as my ability will allow. This is why reviews are crucial and extremely useful, so thank you a thousand times to all those who have done so and I hope you will continue with me on this journey of Tracy love.

This chapter was a difficult one as it's leading up to what I'd consider the true heart of the fic, I'm not a big fan of OC's but Tess Zucco was a necessity, I hope her involvement in this chapter works.
Please let me know :)

Thunderbirds are not mine, though I'd happily buy a brew for whoever came up with the Drench advert with Brain's dancing.
Gx

Jeff immediately went into action - surveying the situation and heading where he saw himself most urgently needed. Seeing Scott withdrawing his cell from a pocket and dialling as he ran towards Virgil he himself headed straight for the still form of Tess - as much as he wanted to tear after Alan he knew that the most immediate danger was the loss of the life of the young woman who'd just thrown herself in front of a car to save one of his sons, and hoping for her to still be alive would be a useless relief unless he acted quickly.

Glancing over to Virgil Jeff knew that it would be no use trying to gage help from him at that moment in time, his third born was sitting wide eyed, staring away into nothingness. The effects of shock were clear, trained doctor or not he'd be no use to anyone like that. Even as Scott came up besides him he didn't even seem to acknowledge his elder brother's presence or the hand he gently lay on his shoulder. Although trained in the field to deal with massive trauma and shock victims, Jeff knew from the horrible experience of losing his wife that when it came to family and loved ones, such events shook people in different ways. Any hospital would tell you that they would never intentionally allow a surgeon to work on a loved one, their actions were irrational and flippant, their team were left confused and uncoordinated.

So leaving Virgil be with a silent reminder to have his son checked out thoroughly as soon as he was able, Jeff instead fell to his knees besides the young woman, his eyes quickly surveying the area around her body where blood had begun to pool, taking note of the position she'd landed in.

She was half curled on her left side, her left arm thrown behind her awkwardly whilst her right lay immobile before her. Her head was downcast, hair falling across her face like a rag doll, now matted and wet with the blood. She was bleeding from a blow to the front of her skull that may have been caused when she'd hit the ground, but from the glass fragments shimmering through her matted hair it was more likely caused when the car itself had hit her and she'd been driven over the bonnet and into the windshield itself.
Jeff could hear Scott shouting down his cell to the emergency services, at least with the damage the car must have sustained it would be easier to find it - it was a guilty notion as he tried to arrange his thoughts, yet finding the positives in such dire situations often seemed the only way to push oneself forward.

The head injury seemed to be the most pressing issue, her left arm was most definitely broken and he'd have been surprised if other bones hadn't received sufficient trauma for more fractures. There was a lot of blood, or at least it would have seemed so to the untrained eye. But enough for her to have already bled out and died? No.

Years of first aid courses and training he'd run his sons through had the knowledge drilled into his mind that the average person had roughly twelve pints of the blood in their body. Of course that didn't mean that you could lose twelve pints and survive, but twelve pints spread across the fluorescently lit parking bay would have gone a lot further than the slowly expanding pool already there. He struck the comparison with the amount of times his sons had dropped a pint of milk round the breakfast table whilst growing up, small hands and large cartons were never a good combination, and one pint of milk sure seemed a lot when you had to clean it off the floor and a dripping table.

Up to forty percent of blood was what most medics agreed to be the limit of what a person could bleed out and survive without needing resuscitation, of course there were always exceptions but when it came to saving a life, sticking to the knowledge of the percentage that survived would always be more useful and positive than trying to hope for that one in a million.

Trusting that Scott would have called an ambulance as well as the cops Jeff leant over Tess's body, careful not to move her in fear of further damage. He carefully moved the hair from her face and placed two fingers to her neck, he was unsurprised to feel her heartbeat hammering against his touch. In some cases of rescues turned tragedy the victim had died in an instant, be it through impact, heart attack caused by massive trauma, crushing, or a hundred other horrible situations. But more common than not when they had lost someone it had been whilst trying to get them to a hospital or stabilize them. The human body was incredibly tough and resilient to trauma and would do everything in it's power to keep the soul attached and living. Tess Zucco was young and healthy, her chances of survival from the hit alone were reasonably high. The only issue was how long that survival would be.

The rapid heartbeat he now felt was proof of this, it indicated a possible primary haemorrhage and from what he could tell through her pale complexion and coolness to her skin a class two, maybe verging on class three haemorrhage - or in layman's terms, anything between thirty and forty percent blood loss, it could have been less but given that he knew little of what was going on internally, he had to work with what he was being shown.

Her heart was beating quickly to pump the thinning blood through the body and keep up with her bodies needs, though it also meant that the rate her blood was being lost would be increasing which also increased the amount of oxygen getting to her brain, which in turn could create brain damage.

He hadn't seen the entire incident but from what he could ascertain the car had struck Tess straight on and she had rolled whilst on the bonnet, the hit had not been direct to her spine, this is where the damage of being thrown from the vehicle had come into effect and could have possibly caused even more problems for her body to cope with.

He carefully lifted one of her eyelids to gage the reaction of the pupil, motor and sensory functions could have become absent which would have indicated a complete injury, less than five percent of people diagnosed with such damage ever recovered locomotion. In many cases death would have seemed kinder.

With somewhat of a relief her pupils reacted to the light and focused, it showed that her brain was still processing stimuli and reactions around the body. A good sign, though coupled with the head injury the usual signs of spinal damage were somewhat hidden. Her heart rate was already up due to the haemorrhaging yet it could have been a sign of spinal injury, also the cold sweat from the haemorrhage could have hidden the hot sweat that Jeff would have usually looked for in a spinal damage. He was no doctor but the only obvious sign that she had escaped a major spinal injury were the reactions of the pupils of her eyes, he wasn't about to move her any time soon.

Frustratingly there wasn't much he could do without a full medical kit, the force of the impact may have caused internal injuries that linked with the haemorrhaging could lead to shock which in turn could lead to brain damage or even more likely, death.

It was a feeling that could never be gotten used to, having the life of another in your hands which could be lost at any given moment. The nature of the human body versus the knowledge of man.

His mind was swimming with possible injuries and what he could do about it, but he was second guessing himself and doubting injuries he'd first seen as apparent, perhaps hidden by other injuries or made more obvious coupled with another injury… there was nothing he could do.

Touching her face gently with a hand Jeff Tracy sent a silent prayer to anyone or anything that was listening, but the single thought going around his mind were the words he'd so often spoken.

You can't save everyone.

Sometimes all you could do was be there for the person, after all, no one wanted to die alone.

It was a strange feeling, like the moment you reach the top of a flight of stairs and without realising continue, only to find your foot falling through the thin air. It was that feeling of leaning back too far in a chair, that fleeting second where you're certain you'll fall only to be righted once more. Your heart skipping a beat as it readies itself for what would happen next, confusion giving way to dawning realisation.

Those feelings lasted mere seconds though, they were panicked flashes in your life that were shortly forgotten. It may have seemed like life and death the millisecond before embarrassment, but in reality they were moments that simply served as a reminder of how delicate your life was and how quickly calm serene could turn to blind panic.

The moment of blind panic had been that instant where Alan had realised that his brother was in the path of the car, Virgil's eyes widening in confusion and then disbelief as his body tensed for the impact. Alan's blind panic had turned to relief, another instant feeling, when Tess pushed Virgil from the vehicles path only to take it's place. That's when the cold gut wrenching sensation of falling had settled in the pit of his stomach, and so far remain.

It had felt like time had stopped, or perhaps slowed to an impossible rate where he couldn't move, couldn't prevent the slow arch her body made as she was first driven forwards by the car, over the bonnet and into the windscreen with a sickening thud and a crack. Then as the car screeched to a halt, her body rose another half foot up the windscreen before it flew in a hopeless arch through the air until finally crumpling down onto the concrete ground with a sound so soft it seemed impossible to become injured in. Yet the position she was left was sickening, bile still threatened his gag reflex even now as he was being driven away.

Alan had instinctively made to run towards her, to see her eyes smiling up at him as she pulled herself out of the position, shook him off and stood, brushing herself down and laughing off the situation in a way that was all too impossible. Yet he'd needed to see, needed to touch her skin and to work out why there was so much blood suddenly pooling around her still body. Find out why she hadn't moved from that awkward position on the cold concrete ground.

He couldn't though, he had made only a step towards her before someone much larger than himself had jumped from the car and pulled a bag over his head, strong arms looping around his own and pulling him into the vehicle with a speed faster than his mind was able to process. He wanted to yell but a muffled shout came out which was barely a holler for help, in that moment he couldn't find his voice and couldn't shift himself into action.

It took what seemed like forever to take a breath, to fill his empty lungs and keep his heavy heart beating as the resounding thud echoed in his ears and chest. In a strange way he was glad of the darkness, relieved to not have to see her body, yet he needed to be there, he wanted so badly to help, to save her.

Arms encircled his chest and pulled his elbows into his ribs in such a painful motion that it became stifling, serving only as a reminder to the fact that it wasn't a nightmare he could wake himself up from. The pain was too real, the sound of the rain outside and the coolness of the crisp evening air of the summer. You didn't dream that.

Tess had been killed because he was too weak to defend himself. Too weak to become a Thunderbird and too pathetic to fight back. The hood over his head now served to screen the image he couldn't shake from his mind, watching her wide eyed panic as she pushed Virgil away - saved his brother. The look in her eyes as she took the full force of the car and finally as she crumpled down to the ground unmoving.

Red was a distinct colour, a warning, an alert, a trigger, a bull's-eye. It stood out in the haze of a black and white memory, blood pooling onto the ground all too quickly, too sharp and too precise against the grey of the concrete. Blood that could have so easily been Virgil's imprinted itself into Alan's vision.

His breathing quickened as he realised how far Zucco had been willing to go to get what he wanted, if Zucco was willing to kill his own daughter then what qualm would he have killing Jeff Tracy's youngest child? What issue would he have in killing each and every one of his brothers just to prove a point?

His head swam from his own backtrack of events and he tried to focus on what was happening around him, tried to find a grip on the reality and whatever predicament he was in. He'd been pulled into the car and across the backseat, losing his crutches at some point. Someone held his middle, securing his arms to his sides whilst another restrained his legs - not that having their use would have served much purpose in such a confined space.

He could smell cigarette smoke, though it was such a sharp sweet smell that it could have been cigars. His father had smoked them for a few years after the death of their mother, it was only once he'd begun the workings towards the birth of International Rescue that he had stopped. Scott's words were a stark reminder to all of them which in turn stopped them from experimenting during their youth.

"Why live life a hero only to die an addicts death?"

Right now Scott would be panicking, probably pacing whilst trying to figure out what to do. Even though the situation seemed useless the thought that Scott would do anything to save the baby of the family helped Alan as he tried to find a balance in his emotions. A panic attack wouldn't help.

A local radio station played an all too cheery pop song through the speakers, mixed in with the hum of the engine it seemed oddly calm in the midst of the storm of events and that of the darkening skies outside. There had been a few minutes silence between whoever rode in the vehicle, their breathing the only sound besides the music. Alan could feel where the vehicle turned, stopped and started through which he could only presume to be lights and intersects of the busy town. Everyone around would be going about their lives without a clue of what was unfolding in the dark car driving by.

He jumped slightly as the man who'd grabbed him spoke near his ear. "It was meant to be a quick snatch." The man let out a long breath that he must have been holding, his fingers digging into the top of Alan's arms as he tensed for a moment, it sent a chill up the young blondes spine.

Again the air was left in an uncomfortable silence. Eventually someone let out a long breath, clicking their tongue before responding. "We got the kid. Job done."

They didn't sound convinced though. The voice was male and came from the driver's direction, he sounded like he was from the Queens area, words precise yet with a slight drawl that drew him apart from the other speaker who obviously didn't have English as his first language.

"What's Zucco gonna do to us when he finds out you's killed his own kid?" That was the guy holding Alan's feet, maybe he was the one smoking. Alan wasn't sure whether to be relieved that killing Tess hadn't been the plan, his own future was somewhat undetermined. There was a moments hesitation before the sound of the man letting out a long breath. "You drove straight into her, he's gonna see the blood on the car."

Alan gave an involuntary flinch, he'd seen the damage yet suddenly his mind was sending new images of the sheer amount of blood, he could see it in his mind on the dark car's bodywork, a glistening concoction of death. Hair matted in the cracked glass, smeared tracks where her body had rolled across, trails where it had run down the paint work. And although he tried he couldn't help the thought that constantly accompanied the images.

It could have been Virgil.

"She jumped out, nothing I could do about that." The driver sneered, his voice raised slightly in annoyance. "Just tell him Tracy pushed her, he don't need to know details. We got Tracy's kid and that's what he wanted".

"He's gonna find out." The guy holding his arms spoke again, though the words weren't directed at anyone in particular, they hung in the air with a threatening overhang.

"It's Tracy's story against ours, whose he gonna believe, huh? We nab his kid then his daughter snuffs it, sounds a bit suspicious if you ask me." The driver sounded agitated, not happy with the men besides him for questioning his motives. Alan knew that right now that was the guy to be wary of, nervous men with power made other men nervous and a nervous man never did the job right. Though maybe that still left him with an opportunity to get away… not that it would be easy given his busted ankle and ribs. He just knew that he didn't want to be anywhere near Zucco when he found out about Tess's fate, what scared him most was the fact that he didn't know how the man would react. Maybe he wouldn't care, would that be worse?

"Tracy wouldn't kill anyone, least alone Taio's daughter. He's a family man."

"Why the hell not? Someone nabbed my kid and I'd kill them and their whole family for good measure, plus all their friends and work colleagues for being connected to them." Alan didn't doubt that, he had to bite his tongue to stop himself voicing his displeasure at the man, he knew it wouldn't do him any good.

"Yeah but you ain't Jeff Tracy. I just don't see him doing something like that." The window by Alan's feet opened momentarily, he could feel the cool air blow in before it shut. The smell of tobacco disappearing into the evening air.

"It don't matter what you think, it's what Zucco believes that matters. I reckon he'll believe it."

What if Zucco thought Jeff had killed his daughter? Would he believe it? Probably. From what Alan had heard of the man he was well and truly wacko. But if these guy's story flew then where did that leave him? An eye for an eye? He struck Alan as more of a mailing back a piece at a time kind of guy.

"Hmm, don't feel right lying to him. What if he finds out? We'd be dead men walking over something like that!"

"We'd be dead men walking if we told him the truth, if you think I'm going down on my own then you've got another thing coming. We was all there, we acted together to nab the kid, so we go down together."

"That ain't right, you were driving! You should have slowed down." Cigar man leant forward squashing Alan's legs with his weight, he hissed as the throbbing in his ankle turned to a stabbing pain. For the rustle of fabric Alan presumed the guy was pointing or leaning against the front headrest.

"Damn girl should have moved." The driver growled, his fist hit the steering wheel with a soft thud.

"Hell, the girl shouldn't have been there! This was meant to be a quick job."

"Yeah well, we don't have to worry bout it anymore. We've done the job, end of story."

There was silence again, the sound of the disc jockey on the radio wafted through the car in an unshared serene.

Alan's head was spinning, he knew that being scared wouldn't help but he couldn't stop his heart hammering against his chest or the tears welling in his eyes. He wanted his dad, he wanted Scott and his other brothers, and for not the first time in his life he wanted his mom.

The phone on Tracy Island had been ringing for a while, it's shrill tone cutting through the house and out of the open patio doors, and finally down to the pool where John and Gordon had been dozing in the sun. The island was a few hours behind the mainland and the sun had only just begun it's slow decent making the sky a breathtaking hue of oranges and reds.

Gordon grunted as he rolled off the warm sun lounger onto his feet, a hand running through his hair as he ruffled the damp locks, still drying from an earlier dip in the pool. He huffed loudly as he passed John a few loungers along, with the blonde's sunglasses on Gordon couldn't ascertain whether his older brother was sleeping or just enjoying the rare calm of the island, either way the battle of who could ignore the phone the longest had been a victory to John.

Gordon rolled his eyes at the sight of the tanning cream next to the sunlounger, constantly amused by John's craving for sun in the spots between being up on Five, it wasn't even like he'd improve his tan at this time of day but it obviously wasn't going to be a missed opportunity.

He rubbed his eyes half heartedly and jogged up the steps to the house, bare feet padding on the patio tiles. Checking his watch he wondered whether it would be his father checking in or Scott ringing to give them a list of chores and to make sure they weren't destroying the island. Though if the island was going to be destroyed it wouldn't be caused by pairing Gordon and John, that was for sure. If it were just Jeff on the island Gordon felt sure that the eldest Tracy son would still be checking, the guy had some kind weird control issues going on.

Yanking the wireless phone off the wall he sighed at his sixth sense, speak of the devil.

"Hey Scooter. What's up?"

The sound of Scott's voice alone was able to convey the panic and gravitude of the situation on the mainland, the calm sunny island suddenly becoming cold and grey, the hair on the back of Gordon's neck standing before what had happened to Alan had even been voiced. Scott might have been flighty and overbearing about certain things in their lives, he'd yell for hours about spilt coffee if you let him, but a truly scared Scott Tracy was something to be truly feared, and it was such a difference to the mother hen overprotective guise he usually wore.

Right now Scott Tracy was having trouble finding the words, he kept stopping mid sentence and backtracking over himself, mumbling ideas and thoughts, retracing his steps, questioning the situation, his head was spinning, his mind working overtime.

"Scott…." Gordon listened for a break in the ever flowing words, allowing himself to take a deep breath as he did so and moving over to the patio doors to glance down at an unsuspecting John who hadn't moved. It would be a short lived serene. "We'll refuel the jet, we can be there in a few hours. Calm down, tell dad we're on our way."

He was angry at himself for being swayed into coming back to the island on the first place, looking back it seemed a ridiculous notion. Alan was their baby and they his protector, they knew he was in danger yet allowed him to stay, they'd really let the kid down. All he could do was pray for him to be ok.

Scott was talking a mile a minute, instructions coated on words his mind quickly worked around. "What do you mean, no?" Gordon pinched the bridge of his nose and screwed his eyes up, trying to relieve the tension that was fast building. "It's Alan! Screw International Rescue, this is family!"

Scott was slowly regaining control of his nerves be they somewhat shattered, obviously trying to take control of the situation he best knew how. The face of Thunderbird's Operative One taking over, though his younger sibling didn't like the direction he was going in.

"What's dad say about that? Huh? You need us there… damn it, Alan needs us! All of us!"

He couldn't help his rising voice, he noticed John looking up at him questionably over the top of his sunglasses down by the pool, one eyebrow raised. He didn't look forward to explaining this one, turning away he began to pace, a hand through his hair now as he tried to stop his fists clenching.

"No… I just… we're his brother's, all of us Scott. I can't just sit here waiting for news, we should all be there. Anyway, what did dad say? What's he doing anyway?"

Gordon trusted Scott, be him annoying and overbearing at times his judgement was usually the right one. Though this was not a situation they had encountered before, his heart hung in his throat as he let out a long sigh.

"He's doing what?"

To die and part is a less evil; but to part and live, there, there is the torment. ~George Lansdowne

I am so sorry if the editing is at all confused in any part of this, I have literally spent the good part of an hour trying to get FF to post it like I wrote it but for some reason it keeps making puzzle pieces of the text and rearranging them. I've triple checked but you know how things are at midnight when you're getting stressed...
Please review, let my editing skills not be in vain ;)