Disclaimer: I don't own Thunderbirds.

IRRelief fic, using eirabach's prompt "Alan + regrettable life choices"

Sometimes, Alan could admit his decisions might not have been the smartest. Taking his new mountain bike up to the top of the tallest peak on Tracy Island with the intention of cycling all the way back down was one such decision, but here he was, perched on the saddle right at the start of the sharp incline, starting to wonder if this was such a good idea.

His brothers would say no. Then again, he already knew that. That was why his comm unit was safely tucked underneath his rug, so John couldn't spot his little red triangle moving towards the peak and alert the others – especially Scott. For someone so dismissive of his own neck, he had an annoying habit of caring an awful lot about other people's necks, particularly those that belonged to younger brothers.

Scott was away on a mission. Alan would never have dared attempt to sneak out from under his nose. Virgil and Gordon were easier to avoid – Four had taken a battering on her last outing, and they were buried inside the sub's internal workings trying to fix her before any of them were needed elsewhere. John was the simple case of pretending to be asleep and then slipping off his comm… okay, he'd needed to do a teeny bit of computer work as well so John didn't immediately notice he wasn't in his room anyway, but that was nothing, really.

Besides, John should be busy with Scott. It was all fine.

As was the fact that he was about to hurtle all the way down a craggy mountain peak on his new bike. There was a trail to follow, at least – he would never have got the bike up there if there wasn't – but it was going to be a lot more exhilarating going down than up. It was also going to be a lot more dangerous, and Alan had been a part of International Rescue long enough to know that safety was not something to be sniffed at, and that danger should be avoided where at all possible.

Therefore he had made sure to wear all his safety gear – helmet, shin pads, knee and elbow pads, and his basic IR suit without the sash for extra protection. Risks were cool. Stupid risks were not cool, although if he was honest the disappointed looks from his brothers were the biggest incentive he had to not take stupid risks. That and the absolute panic he would be on the receiving end of if he did get hurt.

The more he stood and thought about it, the more he started to think that this really wasn't his brightest idea. But he was already here, and there was only one way down short of calling- nope, he'd left his comms behind. Even if he could bear the humiliation of calling his own brothers for help on their own island, that wasn't an option.

So, down it was. On the bike.

He took a deep breath, surveyed the trail in front of him, and pushed his bike forwards.

Wind rushed past his ears as his tyres ate up ground in the blink of an eye. The goggles he wore helped to stop it sting his eyes, but not perfectly as moisture welled up. He didn't dare blink it away – while he was not travelling anywhere near the speed of a Thunderbird, without a cradle of machinery around him it felt even faster than One, and a single error judgement would throw him off the trail.

This was the sort of thing Alan thrived on. Conscious thought took a backseat, instincts and reactions taking over as though he was dancing Three through a comet's coma, or playing one of his many video games. Boy and bike became one, dodging scree patches and jumping rock clusters that couldn't be evaded as they hurtled down, down towards the rocky beach marked as his end point.

"Woohoo!" he cried after a particularly sharp bend in the trail almost threw him off the edge, grin splitting his face in two. This was what life was about! Heart pumping in his chest, adrenaline surging through his limbs, body clinging to the bike as though they were merged together.

Nothing in the world could be better, and his rapid, insane descent ended far more quickly than the laborious ascent had done, tyres kicking up shingle as the pebble-dashed beach welcomed his entrance with crashing waves and the taste of saltwater spray on his lips.

And-

His heart sank, euphoria of the previous moments fleeing as though it had never been there, at the sight of crossed arms and a tapping foot.

"Launching a rocket into space most days not enough of an adrenaline kick for you, kid?"

Grandma did not look happy.

"I… uh… sorry?" he tried, a childish urge to hide the bike behind his back barely quelled.

She strode towards him, each crunch of shingle sounding like another nail slamming into his coffin. Oh, he was doomed. He was so, so, doomed. His bike was going to be confiscated, he'd be pulled from International Rescue – sent back to school, to sit in classrooms and have to rely on patchy news reports to know how his brothers were doing, if the rescue was going okay or if his brothers were getting hurt.

"Sorry for what, young man?" she asked him as she stopped in front of him. He'd grown taller than her, but the additional height meant nothing as she towered above him in all but stature, blue eyes that he and Scott had both inherited pinning him to the spot with steel. "For having fun? Or for reckless, idiotic behaviour like not telling anyone where you were going, what you were doing, and leaving without your comms?"

When she put it like that, it really did sound stupid.

"For not telling anyone?" he offered. "And not taking my comm unit with me?"

Her gaze didn't relent, and he squirmed under it, unable to meet her eyes as he focused on a random pebble at her feet instead. It didn't do anything to help.

After what felt like an eternity, she sighed and pulled him into a hug.

"Don't you ever do that again, young man," she scolded, but her voice was softer now. "Promise that next time you go out on that bike of yours, you'll tell me and one of your brothers, and maybe I won't tell Scott about this time. Deal?"

Scott. Oh hell, Scott would be even worse. And Grandma wasn't the only one that could report to him – in fact, she was least likely to.

"Can we upgrade that to me telling all of them in future and none of them now?" he tried.

A familiar, male, laugh sounded and he squeezed his eyes shut.

"Nice try with the feed loop, kid, but it'll take more than that to fool me," John said. Alan cringed but looked up as Grandma stepped back from the hug to see him hovering from Grandma's own comm, looking faintly amused.

"Sorry, John," he fidgeted, forcing himself not to look away again. "I thought you'd stop me. Or tell Scott."

"I would have done," the ginger said bluntly. "At least, told Scott and the others. What if something had happened, Alan? No matter what precautions you take, or how good you are, things can always go wrong, and if we didn't know where you were and what you were doing, we wouldn't have been able to help you."

"I know," he said, abashed. "I'm sorry."

John softened, like Grandma.

"I know, kid," he said. "How about this deal? You tell me, Grandma, and one of our brothers on the island whenever you want to go biking, and the three of us will keep this little adventure under wraps? How does that sound?"

Much, much better than a terrified scolding from Scott. Alan agreed.

"Don't worry, Alan," John added as they headed back towards the villa. "You're not the only one I have a similar agreement with."

"What, who?" Alan demanded, as Grandma laughed.

"They haven't broken it," the ginger shrugged, then signed off.

"Joooooohhhnnnnn!"

IRRelief is an amazing idea and bless Gumnut for coming up with it! For those that don't know, it's a collection of prompts anyone can add to and use on tumblr, with a focus on fluff, to give us something to do while we're stuck indoors. Full details are on tumblr under the tags #irrelief and #irrelief2020

Thanks for reading!
Tsari