"Scott?" Alan whined from his position slumped over the kitchen table, his arm up to speak into his comm. "Can you make me some pancakes?"

"No I can't, sorry, I'm just too busy, " Scott's distracted voice floated from Alan's wrist.

"Oh come on, you make them the best."

"I don't have time."

"But Selene said it's pancake day in the UK, it's tradition."

"No, Alan, I'm waiting for Brains to finish that modification to Thunderbird One so I can test her out and make sure she's still operational for rescues as well as the Zero-XL."

"But he won't be done for ages…"

Scott declined to answer, cutting the call.

Alan huffed, sat up and crossed his arms angrily. All he wanted was to spend some time with his brother like they used to. Scott made the best pancakes in the world, he could flip and land them perfectly, any shape, any size and they always came out golden brown and fluffy.

He'd been dreaming about those pancakes, remembering how their dad had patiently tried to teach them all how to mix up the perfect batter, how to test the heat of the pan and how to flip them just right.

Virgil and Scott had mastered the batter instantly, seeming to have a knack for measuring by eye and mixing it with a hand whisk. John had taken his time, insisting on noting down the exact weight and measurements of each ingredient as Jeff had added them and then using the blender to make it as smooth as humanly possible. Gordon and Alan had shared a bowl, which has descended into chaos as they had both tried to add ingredients, ending up with a lumpy, eggy, sloppy mess.

Virgil's pancakes had been nice enough, a little messy around the edges, a little abstract but edible and easily flipped with a spatula. John's had been perfectly formed equal little rounds of fluffy goodness, small enough to flip with a spatula and stack easily. Alan and Gordon had dropped many, burnt a few and had a couple still raw. But Scott's had been perfect. He had flipped them as if he had been doing it his whole life, an easy wiggle and flick of his wrist and up they had sailed, executed a perfect 180 and landed back in the pan with a gentle splat. He had experimented with different flavours, adding chocolate chips and different sauces to various degrees of success but always perfectly cooked.

Over the years the duty of making pancakes for breakfast on a weekend had fallen to Scott and their dad, the two tag teaming, perfectly synchronised, Jeff mixing and plating them up, Scott pouring and flipping. If Scott was in a particularly good mood or had time to spare he would try to make the pancakes in simple shapes, a fish for Gordon, a rocket for Alan, a star for John. It didn't matter what the shape was, he always managed to flip and land it without trouble.

After Jeff had disappeared Scott had continued to make them for any family that was home, it had been a tradition for so long that they had clung to it, it was familiar, it was comforting and they had needed that more than ever.

Over the years as International Rescue had gotten busier, their days more unpredictable and their weekends almost non existent their breakfasts had trailed off and then stopped all together.

Alan hadn't realised how much he missed them until he'd woken up with a craving for Scott's special toffee apple pancakes, made with applesauce and chunks of fresh apple mixed right into the batter and toffee sauce drizzled on top. He could practically taste them.

They had all been so wrapped up in the Zero-XL building and the possibility of finding their dad that they had barely spent any time together, it felt like they were growing further apart rather than closer together as they should have been. They were about to reunite their family, to be complete for the first time in eight years but Alan couldn't help that he was a little worried. What if things changed? What if their dad wasn't the man they all remembered? It had been hard to lose him but they had all come to terms with it, had each learnt to accept it in their own way and now he didn't really know what to think. Their world was about to change all over again and, much as he hated to admit to himself, he was nervous. He craved something normal, something solid and dependable. He wanted his big brother.

"What's up puddin'? Why the long face?" Selene wandered into the kitchen from who knew where, her face full of concern. "You OK, boo?"

Alan nodded, not trusting himself to speak just yet.

As always, Selene knew exactly when he needed a hug, even though he would never ask for one, and pulled him into her arms.

"Talk to me, precious."

He wrapped his arms around her waist, leaning his head against her shoulder, allowing her warm, comforting presence to surround him. She held him tight, not making any move to let go, something he loved about her. There was never any time limit to a Selene hug, none of that brief embrace then let go as soon as you could rubbish, she'd happily stand there for an hour if that was what you needed. More times than he cared to remember he'd found himself leaning against her on the couch, allowing her to wrap an arm around his shoulder and draw him into a cuddle that could last the entirety of a film. Selene he felt safe talking to, she never judged, he didn't feel like he had to be manly with her, to act mature or hide anything from fear of upsetting or angering her.

"Scott won't make me any pancakes." Just saying it out loud sounded stupid, like all that was wrong was the fact that he was hungry and wasn't getting his own way. He didn't want to sound like a spoiled brat. "I mean, I wanted him to make them with me, like he used to, but he's too busy. He's right, I shouldn't have asked."

Selene sighed, hugging him tighter. "No he's not, darling. He's not too busy, he's hiding away. And you were right to ask."

Alan lifted his head to look at her, confusion written all over his face. "Scott's hiding? What for? Scott doesn't hide, he faces everything."

She shook her head. "No, he doesn't, that's just what he wants you all to think, especially you."

"Why me?"

"Because you're his baby brother, he wants you to have someone you can look up to, someone dependable and in control, even if he doesn't always feel that way on the inside."

Alan snorted. "I doubt Scott feels that way, he's so sure about everything. He has a one track mind, get the Zero-XL finished, find Dad and everything will be fine." He pulled out of her embrace and sat down on one of the kitchen stools.

"And are you not sure about his plans?"

Alan scowled as she zeroed in on the problem with that uncanny ability of hers, not needing him to even voice it. She stared right back at him, face neutral, waiting for him to elaborate. He picked up a spoon that had been abandoned on the counter and fiddled with it, needing something to do with his hands.

"I don't know."

She waited some more, leaning patiently against the sink, giving him the time he needed to collect his thoughts and choose his words.

"What if everything is different after? Not in a good way I mean. Everyone is so desperate to have Dad back and so sure that it'll be brilliant, and I think that too, but…"

"But there's a little part of you that is scared and worried that he won't be how you all want him to be?"

He nodded, relieved that she understood exactly what he meant.

"No one else thinks that way. Just me. Because I'm the youngest and because I don't really remember him that well. It's like…" he paused, unsure if he could say the words. But this was Selene he was talking to, she would get it. "It's like he's a character from a favourite film, one that's so familiar it's like they are part of your life, but they also seem so abstract, like you know that they aren't actually real. Does that make sense?"

"Perfect sense. And believe me, you aren't the only one feeling this way. Scott's been in charge of this family for a long time, in charge of International Rescue and everything that comes with it, this is his baby as much as it was your dad's. And John, he is happy and content with his work in Five. You know he loves coordinating and bossing you all around, he loves to organise and prioritise each call that comes in. He told me that before your dad disappeared all he did was field the calls and relay them to base so your dad could make all the decisions. That's going to take some getting used to and some toes are going to get stepped on, there will probably be arguments and compromises will be needed. But it'll all come in time. I haven't spoken to Gordon or Virgil about it but I'm willing to bet they feel the same. You will all need to get to know one another again, you're all different people to how you were then, but that doesn't have to be a bad thing, sweetie."

Alan looked down at the spoon in his hands, now bent out of shape, the bowl twisted back to meet the handle."What if he doesn't like me? " His voice was small, so quiet she barely heard him.

Oh gods, her heart was just breaking for him at that moment. Her poor little sweetheart. She crossed over and hugged him from behind, kissing the top of his head.

"Baby, there isn't a single person in this world that wouldn't love you. You are perfect."

"You have to say that, you're marrying my brother."

She sighed, flicking his ear gently. "No I don't. And do you honestly think that I'm not shitting myself too?"

Her rude words made him choke out a surprised laugh as he rubbed his abused ear. "Why would you be scared?"

"I'm meeting your dad for the first time and I'm not exactly anyone's dream of a daughter in law. I'm a crazy witch that swears too much and moved into his house. He could hate me."

It was Alan's turn to make her feel better. "He'll love you, because we all do, and there's no way he couldn't. You have made my brother the happiest he's ever been, you've made him better, and Dad will see that. You haven't just helped John, you don't just love John, you love us all."

She smiled gratefully, hugging him tightly from behind, squishing him against her chest so he couldn't see the way her eyes were damp with unshed tears. "I got stuck with all of you, bloody package deal brothers."

He laughed, knowing she didn't mean it.

"Give me your comm."

"What? Why?" he lifted his arm up for her.

She tapped the screen and waited for Scott to answer.

"Yes, Alan?"

"Scott," she wheedled. "You know you love me…will you come and make me some pancakes? "

Alan muffled a laugh with his hand. His brother was silent for a few moments, then his long suffering sigh floated out.

"Fine, I'm coming up."

"How did you do that? How come he never says no to you?"

"Witch magic."

"That can't be your answer to everything, you know."

"Say's who?"

"Say's me," Scott answered as he entered the kitchen, ruffling Alan's hair affectionately as he passed.

"Rude, you weren't included in this conversation."

Scott ignored her, knowing exactly what was going on. He felt bad that he'd said no to Alan's request, had wanted to drop everything the second his baby brother had asked, but a sense of duty had prevented it. How could it be right for him to stand around making pancakes when there was work to be done and what seemed like a million things to prepare for his dad's homecoming? Honestly, he was grateful that Selene had intervened, giving him an excuse to spend some time with his smallest brother.

"What pancakes do you want, squirt?"

"Toffee Apple," Alan answered immediately.

"How did I know you'd say that?" Scott reached for a large mixing bowl and gestured to the store cupboard.

"Because they are my favourites," Alan started taking out packages of flour and jars of applesauce without being asked, both of them falling back into their familiar routine.

Selene took herself off to the side and sat down at the table, content to watch them work together. Alan helped Scott to measure out the ingredients and they both took turns whisking it into a smooth batter then added a sprinkling of chopped apple into the mix.

Scott lined up three skillets and set the heat beneath them, letting them get nice and hot. Once they were to his liking he took a ladle and spooned out a big dollop into the middle of each pan.

So impressive were his skills that he didn't even need to use a spatula to loosen the bottom as she would have done, no he just wiggled the pan and the pancake slid up the side like a well trained puppy, ready to be tossed.

Scott wiggled the pan a bit more, playing up to the enthusiastic encouragement of Alan, then with a flick of his wrist the pancake soared upwards, turning in midair and coming down to land perfectly in the center of the pan, much to the appreciative cheering of Selene and Alan.

He repeated the process in quick succession until a large stack of pancakes rested on the warming plate.

"Can you call the others to come eat?" Scott requested and Alan scrambled to do his bidding.

"Let's see if I've still got this," Scott muttered under his breath as he took a smaller spoon and dipped it in the remaining mixture, dribbling it into the pan, returning time and again for another dip, concentration etched on his face.

Selene wandered over to watch over his shoulder, seeing the vague but recognisable shape of Thunderbird Three forming in the pan. Scott let it cook through until little air bubbles had formed all over the surface and then wiggled it up to the side.

"Ready?"

Both Selene and Alan nodded and with a deep breath, Scott launched the rocket skyward. It sailed up on its perfectly plotted path, dipped at the tip and turned end over end, hurtling back to the pan. Scott flailed comically for a second before he caught the little rocket, the only damage being a slight crease where the nose cone had hit the rim of the pan.

Selene clapped, very impressed and Scott bowed theatrically, his face split in a wide smile as he returned it to the heat for another minute then carefully slid the lovingly made treat onto the plate Alan held out.

"Pancakes!" Gordon cheered as he dashed in, heading straight to the stack. "We haven't had these in years!" He glanced over at the rocket that Alan was drenching in toffee sauce. "Hey! Where's my fishy? You always make me a fishy."

"I'm working on it," Scott started his dip and dribble routine all over again, drawing an outline first and then filling in the center, all under Gordon's watchful eye.

Virgil wandered in and retrieved a plate, helping himself to a few from the stack. Brains was next, and then Kayo, followed, slowly and somewhat hesitantly, by The Mechanic, who was still refusing to give anyone his real name. Selene was secretly convinced that it was either something mundane, like Dave, or very out there like Heathcliff and that he had been cursing his parents ever since. Either way, she called him Nic, shortened from Mechanic and he had learnt to do what everyone else in the family did and ignore her.

A pair of warm arms slid around her middle, making her jump, John's evil chuckle muffled against her skin as he kissed her neck in greeting.

"How did this happen?"

Selene looked over at Scott as he caught the fish perfectly, pleased to see the way he had visibly loosened over the last half hour of so of fun with his youngest brother.

"We wanted pancakes, it's traditional on Shrove Tuesday in Britain."

"Was that all, huh?"

She nodded, leaning back against his space suit clad chest, her fingers lacing through his. "Yep, that's it."

"A fish is easy to flip," Kayo taunted from her place at the table, a fork full of pancake halfway to her mouth.

"I'd like to see you do better," Scott challenged, already working on another, this time star shaped.

"Anyone could do it," Kayo shrugged.

"Yeah," John joined in, obviously in the mood to push some buttons. "It's simply a case of angle, height and force, physics, couldn't be simpler."

Selene grinned evilly. "You know what else is traditional in my country?"

"What?" Alan asked, his voice muffled, cheeks bulging like a hamster's.

"Pancake races."

Half an hour later saw them all outside on the beach. Selene and Grandma acting as judges and general rule keepers, while the brothers, Kayo and, after much persuasion, The Mechanic and Brains were all lined up ready to race.

"OK, remember, you can only run if you are flipping and catching and while the pancake is in the air, you can use both hands on the handle if you want to, but if you drop your pancake you have to stop and pick it up, place it back in your pan to flip again, you cannot throw it into the air and catch it. You have to complete one stationary toss and catch before you can pass the pan over. First team to cross the finish line wins. Got it?" They all nodded seriously.

"Ready team A?"

Gordon, Scott, Kayo and Brains cheered in response.

"Ready team B?"

John, Virgil, Alan and The Mechanic whooped in answer.

"Alright! On your marks! Get set…" Brains and The Mechanic readied themselves. "GO!"

Brains gripped the pan handle with both hands and hefted it upwards. The pancake barely lifted and did a very ungraceful belly flop back down but that counted and he managed to take a few steps forward.

The Mechanic had a little more strength and was a tad more coordinated and after a practice flip and catch, he got the hang of it and managed to make pretty good time.

Brains on the other hand, missed the pancake twice and had to retrieve it from the sand and toss it again before he could move. When he managed two flips and catches in succession his team mates cheered like crazy.

He passed the pan over to Kayo who flipped and took off, getting in three steps before she had to catch and flip again.

John took over from The Mechanic, taking his time to do an experimental flip, landing it well enough. He then tried again, leaning forward a bit and tossing at an angle rather than straight up, stretching to catch the flat disc.

"Come on, John, MOVE!" Alan yelled.

John ignored him, ignored the way Kayo was making steady progress down the beach, flipping, catching and running a few quick steps.

One more practice and he got his rhythm. With a wrist flick at the right angle, just the right spin, the right speed… He took off running, managing to toss the pancake ahead of him and catch it every time without slowing his pace once. Alan and Virgil burst into loud cheers, Alan bouncing on the spot eager to receive the pan for his lap.

"What the fu-" Kayo missed her pancake completely as John sailed past her effortlessly. She grabbed the pancake and put it back in the pan, tossed it hurriedly into the air, but over compensated and ended up running right past it and having to backtrack and pick it up again.

"Damn you, Tracy!"

John waved a casual hand behind him in acknowledgement, came to a gentle stop beside Alan, tossed and caught it one more time then handed over the pan much to Selene's supportive cheers.

"Hey! Favouritism from the Judge!" Gordon yelled as he waited impatiently for Kayo to reach him.

"Dude, he's running in a skin tight suit and didn't mess up once, I'm allowed to cheer!"

"Divided loyalties!"

John spread his hands in a what-can-I-say-the-truth-is-the-truth gesture, a smug smile on his face, not even out of breath.

The edge of Kayo's pan hit Gordon in the kidney as she nudged him to get his attention.

"Shit!" he grabbed the pan and tossed the sandy and now decidedly ragged pancake into the air, taking a couple of steps.

Alan was faring better and stopped mid step to stick his tongue out at Gordon. Splat! The pancake landed on his head as he turned back.

"That doesn't count as catching it!" Scott yelled at Grandma.

"He's right, Alan, toss it again, it has to be caught in the pan."

Alan slapped the pancake down into the pan and tossed it again as Gordon started to catch up.

Alan got in a few running steps before he caught the pancake.

Gordon threw the pancake into the air but didn't manage to land it right, one side flopping off the edge of the pan where it ripped, one half falling to the ground.

"Grab it!" Scott yelled.

Gordon fumbled but grabbed the lost half and deposited it into the pan. Tossing both halves was tricky but he managed it, catching both with a little extra effort.

Alan had stopped dead to laugh at Gordon's pancake disaster, allowing Gordon to pass him, but tossed and caught quickly, rushing to catch up.

"Ooof!" Alan landed on the sand as Gordon innocently pulled his foot back. "You tripped me!"

"Judges!" Virgil yelled.

"Two toss penalties for Gordon!" Grandma ruled, much to Gordon's disgust.

Alan made the most of his time advantage to get to his feet and hurry forward. He stopped, tossed and caught then passed the pan on to Virgil.

Gordon caught up and gave Scott the pan.

The two eldest and probably most competitive of the boys started their lap.

"You killed this pancake, Gordy!" Virgil complained as he tried to get the hang of flipping both halves.

"Blame Kayo, she started it! OWW! There was no need to hit me!"

Kayo rubbed her knuckles and grinned evilly.

Scott was, as predicted, making excellent time, tossing and catching with effortless ease while Virgil cursed, struggling to master the art of a double flip and catch. In the end he settled for smaller tosses of a higher frequency, the ragged halves barely lifting up but still clearing the pan and therefore counting, while he trotted along in a quick shuffling run.

The two teams cheered, bellowing encouragement and insults, having left their previous spots and converged on the finishing line.

"Come on, Scott!"

"Run, Virg!"

"Flip it!"

"Call that a toss? Pathetic!"

Scott glanced over his shoulder at his brother.

"Might as well give up now, you can't beat me!"

"In your dreams!" Virgil yelled back.

The finishing line was in sight and with a last burst of speed the racers edged closer.

Virgil, in a last ditch attempt to win, tossed the pancake halves towards the finish line -a beach towel laid out on the sand- and threw himself forward.

Scott, spotting what he was up to, did the same…

Virgil stretched out with the pan, ready to catch the falling food…

Scott dived, reaching out…

They landed in a tangle of arms and legs, Scott splayed out on top of Virgil, Virgil face down in the sand…

They all watched in horrified fascination as the pancakes seemed to hover suspended in mid air for a second before falling down to earth.

Scott flapped with his pan, Virgil flailed trying to push Scott off him, managing to get an arm free to stick out his pan.

PLOP! plop plop!

The two judges, along with the rest of the teams, rushed towards the two fallen racers.

"Seriously?"

"What are the odds?"

"What?" Scott pulled himself up off a complaining Virgil and looked into his pan.

Virgil sat up, doing the same.

In his pan sat Scott's still vaguely round pancake. And in Scott's, crumpled and creased, ripped and sandy, were the lumps of pancake that had belonged to Virgil.

"So who won?" Gordon asked.

"I saved you the last pancake," Scott came up behind Alan and offered him the plate.

"Thanks, Scott," Alan shifted over on the bench to make space for his brother and took the plate. "And thanks for today."

Scott sat down beside his brother, draping his arm around his shoulders. "You're welcome, and I'm sorry I didn't come straight away. I guess I've been a little preoccupied recently. I know that's not an excuse, but it did feel like a valid reason at the time."

"I shouldn't have asked, not really, you had more important things to do."

"No, you were right to ask, it's been a great afternoon and I think we all needed it. Thanks for forcing me to take a break."

Alan nodded, leaning closer to rest his head against his brother's shoulder.

"I just…I guess I feel like so much has changed so quickly and it's only going to change more. When Selene said it was pancake day I remembered how great it used to be to have fun and just spend time together. With everything that's been happening I didn't want that to be something that changed too."

Scott sighed, giving Alan's shoulder a squeeze.

"I'm sorry, I should have realised that. I should have noticed that you needed a bit more time than I've been giving you lately."

Alan scowled. "It's not your job to give me time, I'm not a baby, I'm big enough to look after myself now."

Scott chuckled. "Are any of us big enough to look after ourselves? Or is that why we all want Dad back so much?"

"Selene said that you weren't busy, you were hiding," Alan had zero issues with throwing her under the bus, knowing that Scott would never make her feel bad about it.

Scott was silent for a few moments before he spoke again. "She's not wrong, I guess, in a way, I have been hiding. I know I've been driving Brains and The Mechanic nuts with my constant attention. I'm just worried I think, worried that we'll be too late and we won't find Dad, worried that even if we do find him he won't be the man we remember."

"That's part of my problem, I don't remember him, not really. I just know that he was nice, and that everyone was less stressed when he was around."

"Yeah, dads always make things better and easier. Can I let you in on a secret?"

Alan nodded.

"I've been avoiding you guys a bit, especially you, because I don't want to let any of you down."

"Let us down? That's crazy! There's no way you could ever do that."

Scott closed his eyes, feeling so tired all of a sudden, the fun and relaxation of the last few hours fading away to be replaced with the bone deep exhaustion that was his constant companion.

"I'm having all these doubts, Allie. Doubts that I've been too stubborn to voice out loud."

Alans eyes opened wide. Selene had said that Scott was having the same fears he was, but he hadn't really believed her up until that point.

"What do you mean? What kind of doubts?"

Scott turned away to look out over the island to the sea below them, stretching out as far as the eye could see.

"I worry that he won't be alive when we get there, or that we won't even find him, but I also worry about what will happen if we do manage to bring him home. I want him home, of course I do, but things are going to change, and I'm just hoping that it won't be too hard on us all, especially Dad. We've been on our own, doing things our way with International Rescue for longer than we were doing them with him, and I worry that we're going to clash. Or even that Dad won't want to be here any longer, that he won't want to continue the way we are or even go out on rescues again. Can you imagine a world without International Rescue in it? One where we sit at home and don't help people? It was trying to save people that got Dad lost in the first place, and we've spent eight years saving others but left him alone. We didn't help him. What if he resents us for that? What if he blames us?" Scotts voice dropped lower, almost a whisper." What if he blames me? I'm the one that's in charge."

"I've thought all that too, apart from the bits about you, he would never blame you, none of us would."

Scott hugged his littlest brother tighter than ever, until Alan squeaked and squirmed to get away. He didn't know how he'd missed the fact that Alan himself had also been worried.

He was lucky to have his brothers and the friends that he counted as family. He felt his tight shoulders loosen a little. None of them knew what they would find when they got up there, or what would happen after, but no matter what, he'd have the support of everyone he held dear. That would be enough to get him through anything.

"It'll be alright, Allie. We'll make sure of it. We'll do as we always do, we'll get through it together. Things have a way of working themselves out. We'll get up there, we'll find Dad and we'll bring him home. That's all that matters, that's all we need. Everything else is fixable in time."

Scott looked up towards the lounge windows where the sound of Virgil's piano filtered down to them, along with the indistinct rumble of conversation.

"We're a family, Dad's part of us, and we'll make sure that he knows that."