"I am having a terrible day," Alan muttered as he followed the other version of himself through to Thunderbird One's silo. He heard the other Alan snort, and just barely refrained from rolling his eyes. Yeah, okay, he wasn't the only one having a terrible day.
Although, he had to admit, shooting those goons with the fire-retardant spray had been amusing and had given Virgil enough time to slip away. And the Thunderizer—whatever that was—had been kind of cool.
But Virgil had been hurt; Alan wasn't stupid, and he'd been on enough rescues to recognize broken bones and head injuries. Honestly, Alan couldn't even remember much of what had happened. They'd been on a rescue at a science compound of some kind, something had suddenly activated and then Virgil was yelling and grabbing him. The world had practically exploded, and they'd landed in this weird version of the hangar.
Everything here was different. It was so similar, though, that the differences were beyond jarring. And it was making Alan's head hurt.
He wanted to go home.
He wanted Virgil. He wanted Scott. He wanted…
Well, he just wanted to go home.
The other Alan, the younger one, was trying to type in a code that must have been recently changed, because he wasn't gaining access. Alan glanced from him to Thunderbird One again. The 'Bird looked so like the ones from back home. But this silo was so different too.
He shook himself, stepping up next to Other-Alan. "You okay?"
"Scott must have changed the code," Other-Alan murmured. He glanced up and they locked eyes. They were nearly identical, only he was older than this Alan, by what had to be a few years. "I don't know what to do." They were all panicking. All three of these kids—and Alan wasn't stupid enough to not recognize one as a much younger Kayo. The other though, the little kid with the glasses—he reminded him of Brains but was way too young. Kayo may be younger, but Brains was not a teenager.
"We'll figure it out," Alan murmured, copying Virgil's words. He took a breath and steadied himself. Someone had to be calm; someone had to be collected. Usually that meant one of the older brothers, but they weren't here right now, and Alan was all these kids had. "Call me Al," he said, looking down at the computer Virgil had strapped to his wrist. It was blinking, a circle of lights that was oscillating between orange and red and yellow.
EOS.
He opened his mouth to say something but stopped when he heard Other-Alan gasp. A quick look up and he saw the reason why.
The Hood was on the other side of the glass, smiling at them eerily. "Alan," the man said, and both boys' eyes narrowed. "Two Alans. How…intriguing." The man continued to speak, but Al tuned him out, instead focusing on typing to EOS.
The connection was weak, but it was there.
"Open. The. Door."
Alan looked up when Other-Alan groaned, and met the glowing red eyes of The Hood. And the sudden lance of pain through his head had him falling to his knees. Apparently, that was enough to distract Other-Alan from The Hood, though, because a hand wrapped around his gloved one and tugged him back up.
"We can't go this way!" Other-Alan called, still pulling Alan along. The pain was dissipating, but still so very distracting. The ring of lights on the wrist computer had flared red, probably in response to his bio-readout.
"W-what are we going to d-do, Alan?" Fermat cried out, the four of them backing up.
Alan gave another gasping breath, his hand at his head, and then he looked straight up. He met Other-Alan's eyes and glanced upwards, towards One's thrusters. Other-Alan blinked and then looked down.
The door opened, and The Hood stepped through, followed by his minions. The big one was smiling fiercely, and all four decided they wanted absolutely nothing to do with him. Alan gave a shudder, fingers moving to the computer and tapping something. Other-Alan's hand had slipped into his pocket.
The Hood was talking again. Why was he always talking?
But at least his eyes weren't red anymore. Of course, they had to land in a world where The Hood had evil psychic powers. Honestly, that was just par for the course at this rate.
Other-Alan was pushing them back, arm out in front of them. Good. He'd gotten it; Alan had seen the exhaust pipes below Thunderbird One and had recognized them for the escape route they were. He just didn't know how to activate them in this silo. It was too different from the one back in his own home world.
Something shot from Other-Alan's vicinity, just barely missing The Hood and clanging off the panel behind him. The Hood frowned, eyes flashing just a little, and Alan hissed at the pain that caused. "I'm not the one you're angry at, Alan," the man said.
"You're not the one I'm aiming at," Other-Alan responded.
And the rock made contact with the panel, and the floor dropped out from beneath the four of them.