Scott yawned for the fifth time.

Or what Alan thought was the fifth time. It was a bit hard to count with all the commotion.

The hustle and bustle of a normal morning was occurring, or, at least, an attempt at one. The whole family, minus John, Kayo, and Brains, had managed to show up. A heaping stack of pancakes had been made and dished out to each family member, with many more stacked in the middle of the table for seconds, maybe even thirds.

Gordon really did make the best pancakes. They were perfectly cooked, with a crispy golden brown exterior and a wonderfully warm, fluffy, melt in your mouth interior. The syrup and butter only further complimented their nutty flavor, creating a complexly sweet and savory experience. No one knew how Gordon managed to pull it off. They were the absolute best.

So good, in fact, that during the first few minutes of breakfast no one talked. Everyone was too busy consuming pancakes like their life depended on it. It wasn't until the first serving was consumed and everyone started on seconds, that any ideas of talking to one another had even occurred.

Alan was trying his best to eat his pancakes too. He really was. But the fork was heavier and more cumbersome than he remembered. He was having trouble cutting the pancake into small eatable bites and the pieces he did manage to cut were usually too big. By the second serving, he had some idea of how to go about his newfound clumsiness but, unfortunately, he was also covered in maple syrup. It was all over his hands, on his face, in his hair, and it even got on Virgil's flannel. Sorry, Virge.

Grandma chuckled at the sight of Alan, along with Gordon, and passed him a few napkins. The napkins were dry. They ripped and stuck to his hands in little bits and pieces. Honestly, Alan thought they did more harm than good. Eventually, he resigned himself to his sticky fate.

As the chatting began and continued, everyone being satisfied with their second helping, Alan couldn't help but notice there was a topic everyone seemed to be avoiding. Except for Grandma. She kept pushing napkins on him.

His sudden smallness. It was the elephant in the room.

Jeff, Scott, and Virgil were engaged in some sort of conversation. Alan couldn't hear what it was about, but Scott yawned again. Jeff looked concerned and said something in a low voice, to which Scott only shook his head. Virgil would cast small glances at Alan but never looked him in the eyes. Instead, he seemed to be using the conversation as a distraction.

Gordon was chatting Alan's ear off. An attempt at keeping him busy, he supposed. As if the napkin and syrup problem wasn't already doing that. But Alan kept his gaze on his older brothers.

"You know." Gordon began, "I found shark eggs by the reef last week."

"Oh really?" Alan mumbled.

"Yeah! You know I didn't find any last year."

"Uh-huh."

"Yup. I was worried there wouldn't be any this year. I've been going out to the west beach every couple of weeks to look. Finally found them last week."

"Cool."

"You know, maybe we could go out there. I'll show them to you. They look really cool."

"Uh-huh."

"And maybe we'll find some fairies that'll take us to Neverland."

"Uh-huh." Alan turned his attention back to his hands for a moment as the gears in his mind processed what Gordon said. Maybe he could just eat the pancakes with his hands. It's uncivilized but perhaps there's less chance of syrup going everywhere. "Wait. What?"

"Oh. So you were listening." Gordon's voice dripped with sarcasm.

"Of course." Alan shot him an annoyed look and picked up his fork. Being civil won out any day. "Shark eggs right? I didn't know they laid eggs."

"Yup! So what do you say Sprout? Wanna see them?" Gordon grinned widely.

Alan paused, observing Gordon for a moment. "Is that how you sprained your ankle? Climbing on the west beach cliffs to get to the reef?"

Gordon recoiled as if Alan had burned him. A light blush crept up onto his cheeks. Grandma let out a small chuckle beside him.

"It sure is." She answered Alan. "He didn't want anyone finding out though."

"Grandma." Gordon hissed lightly.

Alan laughed along, but then Scott yawned again and his smile faltered. Right. Elephant in the room.

"Hey," Gordon gently nudged him. So much for keeping Alan busy. "You're quiet again. What's eating at you? Besides that syrup. Really Sprout, how do you manage?"

"I don't know."

He glanced over at his older brothers. Virgil avoided his gaze and Scott took a swig of what Alan thought must be coffee. Gordon moved into his line of sight. Alan met his eyes briefly before looking down.

Elephant.

"Did you guys... hold the debrief yet?"

Gordon let out a soft 'oh' but it was Grandma who cupped his face and brought his gaze up to meet hers. She began to wipe his face with a wet napkin. When did she get that?

"We were waiting for you, Sweetie." She said softly, "And Virgil needed time too. He was pretty shaken."

"You should have seen it last night, Alan." Gordon inputted, "Virgil refused to leave your side. He and Scott were nearly at each other's throats over who got to stay with you overnight. Scooter played the older brother card while Virge played the medic card. There was a lot of yelling. Eventually, Dad intervened and Scott won out."

Gordon paused for a moment. He cast his gaze onto the pancakes. Alan followed the best he could. Grandma was wiping his hands now. Honestly. He wasn't a child.

Something about needing to boost morale.

"It was horrible." If Alan wasn't sitting right next to Gordon, he might not have heard it.

But then, maybe everyone heard it because now the table was silent. Grandma paused in her ministrations to reach over and gently, but firmly, squeeze Gordon's shoulder.

"We can hold it now. The debrief." Virgil said abruptly.

"Virgi-"

"It's fine, Scott."

"We don't have to do this right now."

"I'm fine. The sooner, the better, right?"

Scott opened his mouth to argue further but was cut off by their father. "I agree with Virgil. If he's up for it, the sooner we hold the mission debrief the better. We all need answers. Then, we can figure out a plan of action."

Scott sat back in his chair, resigned. Alan's heart leapt into his throat. They were going to do this? Right here? Right now?

Virgil hesitated for only a moment before giving the mission details.

"It was a simple rescue. John had informed Tracy Island that a team of first responders requested evacuation assistance of a collapsing building in LA. Alan and I were able to answer the call. Once we got there, the situation seemed better than the initial report made it seem. Most of the occupants were evacuated with only a few left unaccounted for. Alan and I split up and covered the building in half the time. I found a few people on the upper floor, no major injuries, and successfully escorted them out. Once I was out, I received a call from John stating that he picked up a life signature in the basement."

Virgil took in a deep breath. Everyone around the table had their eyes trained on him. Even Alan looked up at him with wide eyes, his heart beating loudly in his chest.

"It was The Hood." Virgil breathed out. He gripped the edge of the table, unable to meet any of his family members in the eyes. Every person at the table stiffened at the name of the man who had caused them so much grief and anguish. "It was The Hood, waiting down in the basement."

A deep breath, "He had some sort of gun with him" Virgil continued. "Everything happened so fast. He pointed it at me. I didn't hear Alan follow me, but suddenly he was there. The Hood shot him. Whatever was in that gun," Virgil gestured toward Alan, "did that to him."

There was a pause, a heavy silence settled on the room. Alan felt all of two feet tall, as everyone (except Virgil, he was still looking down) cast their pitiful gaze on him and his sticky mess. But he wasn't two feet tall! He was at least four feet tall.

"What happened next?" Scott asked. Despite how level his voice was, it was steeped in anger.

"The Hood tried to shoot again, but the weapon jammed. He fled shortly after. My attention was too focused on Alan to react. He was unresponsive immediately after impact. He shrunk pretty much right away. I carried him out of the collapsing building and onto Thunderbird Two. The rest, you all know."

Scott crumpled a napkin in his hand. His face had a darkened, stormy expression. The situation could have been so much worse. He could have lost one, possibly two of his brothers that day. Scott thanked his lucky stars the gun jammed and The Hood fled; that Alan and Virgil had both been there to support each other. It could have been so much worse.

What if Alan hadn't been there? Or what if he hadn't gotten there in time?

What if the gun hadn't jammed on the second shot? What if they hadn't left the building in time?

What if things played out any differently?

Scott cast his glance over to Alan. The kid looked phased. He had big, glossed-over eyes that focused on a single point somewhere on the table, and his face was slightly paler than before. Concern quickly bubbled up inside Scott. It was no wonder the kid freaked out last night. The whole experience had to be traumatic.

The Hood was a dead man walking.

"Alright," Jeff said as he stood, breaking the tense atmosphere. "This is what we'll do. I want everyone to be extra vigilant on missions. Anything out of place, report it. Keep an eye out for The Hood and his crew. The sooner we find him and put him in custody, the sooner we can get answers as to what exactly he did to Alan. Follow your instincts, and Gordon?"

"Yeah, Dad?" Gordon replied, his head snapping to attention.

"I'll be counting on your famous Gordon Tracy Squid Sense." Jeff shot him a quick grin, before returning to his serious attitude. "How's the ankle?"

"Feels fine to me."

"Good. Virgil?"

"I was planning on clearing him for duty today."

"Good. After breakfast, you two head down into the infirmary for a final check-up. John?"

"Yes, Dad?" John chimed in, his hologram manifesting in the middle of the table.

"I would feel more comfortable if we had an extra set of hands here on the ground, so I want you to put Thunderbird 5 on autopilot for the time being. We can run operations from here on the island."

"FAB Dad. I was planning on coming down today, anyways. I'll have EOS run Thunderbird 5 for a while longer."

"Right, right. The AI." Jeff let out a heavy sigh and looked at his oldest son. "Scott?"

"Dad?"

"You look terrible, to be put bluntly. I want you to get some sleep after breakfast. If I see you around the Villa anytime in the next six hours, I will ground you."

"No way. What if a rescue call comes in?"

"Virgil and Gordon are perfectly capable of handling a rescue."

"What if it's too much for them? We're shorthanded as is."

"Thanks for the confidence, Scott," Gordon mumbled.

"Your brothers will be fine. You need the rest." Jeff said firmly, his voice leaving no room for arguments. "I will not have you working yourself into the ground."

"FAB" Scott grumbled. "... just six hours?"

"That's the minimum. Feel free to get more while it's quiet. Alan?"

"Yes, Dad?" Alan inwardly winced at how small and meek his voice sounded compared to the deep, gruff voices of his brothers.

Jeff's face softened. "I'm sorry, Sprout, but you're grounded until further notice. You're in no condition to fly."

Alan nodded. He fiddled with a torn dry napkin. Of course, his dad didn't want him to be on rescue call anymore. He was tiny now. He'd only be in the way, a hazard. A screw-up. He screwed up the last mission. That was the whole reason they were here, after all.

Gordon slung an arm around his shoulders. "Hey, look on the bright side, Sprout! You get a free vacation." He leaned in closer, "Plus, imagine how much the face of a child could get away with. I bet you could have Scott and Virgil wrapped around your finger by the end of tomorrow."

Just then, Brains walked into the kitchen with MAX following close behind him. Each carried a large box.

"It took all m-morning Mrs. Tracy, but I b-believe I have found what you wanted!" Brains said as he and MAX set the boxes at the back.

"Perfect Brains, thank you," Grandma said as she got up. She went over to the boxes and began rummaging through them.

The boys perked up with curiosity at the large boxes.

"What's in the boxes, Grandma?" Scott spoke up.

She laughed. "Something I hoped I wouldn't need to pull out for a few more years."

Scott exchanged looks with Virgil. Both shrugged their shoulders and wandered over to where their grandmother was perched. They broke out in wide grins upon seeing the contents of the box and began to assist their grandmother in digging through it. Alan craned his head from where he was sitting in an attempt to get a better look.

Suddenly Grandma, with a look of triumph, lifted out a small shirt. Alan felt his eyes widen. Clothes. The box was full of clothes. Little clothes. Little clothes from when he and his brothers were actually that little. Grandma had saved them.

Alan forced his eyes to the floor. His cheeks burned with embarrassment. They were going to want him to wear little clothes.

Grandma appeared before him. She held the small shirt up to his torso and hummed in approval. It would fit. It was tiny. And it would fit.

"Come now, Kiddo." Grandma began, "You didn't think you'd be running around in Virgil's flannel the whole time did you?"

"No…" He'd thought he would run around in his own 'too big' clothes.

"Don't look so down. You'll feel much better in clothes that fit."

"Speaking of, I think you need a shower, Sprout." Gordon inputted. "You've managed to get syrup absolutely everywhere."

Alan shot Gordon a glare before jumping off the stool. He hadn't intended to make a mess. He still wasn't even sure how it had happened.

Gordon got up and began to collect the plates. "Hey, don't give me that look. You'll really feel better after a shower."

"You'll feel better after a shower" Alan mocked before heading toward the stairs where Grandma waited patiently for him. "I don't need help."

"Humor me, then." She said softly. The two of them made their way out from the kitchen.

Scott watched them leave. He and Virgil were still digging through the box, while Brains had left to work on some upgrade, Jeff and Gordon cleaned up breakfast, and John prepared his leave from Thunderbird 5.

"What are we going to do?" Scott mused, "He's got the brains, experience, and wit of a nineteen-year-old, with the clumsiness, energy, and fragility of a five-year-old."

Virgil looked up at his older brother with a soft grimace. "We're in for the long haul."

Ah, it's another chapter! I can't believe it's chapter 5 already...

Things are moving along, people! This chapter was a little sweeter than the chapters before it. I wanted to try my hand at writing a more fluffy chapter that still had some aspects of drama/foreshadowing in it. I love that Grandma Tracy saved their little clothes. It's such a mom/grandma thing to do, and I imagine that on an island, storage wouldn't be a problem. And yes, Virgil, we are in for the long haul!

Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed it! Stay tuned for the next chapter!