Jefferson Tracy liked to think he was a practical man. When he saw a need, he did his best to fill it. That was how the Thunderbirds had been started, after all. He'd seen a glaring disadvantage that the world had against humankind and he'd sought to fix it. And he thought he'd done a pretty good job.

They'd had failures, of course. You couldn't save everyone. Even the ones you loved were sometimes lost. He hadn't been conceited enough to think that they could overcome every odd and save every person. He'd been realistic enough to realize that some people may blame them, the Thunderbirds, for not being able to save their loved ones.

He wasn't delusional.

He just hadn't expected for those people to want revenge. Especially the people who had caused the problems in the first place. Mother Nature was fierce and combative at times, but it was human stupidity and greed that often caused the situations that International Rescue had to clean up.

The Hood had been unexpected. And Jefferson wanted to blame himself for not thinking up the possibility of being found out and having his family exploited in the way that The Hood had tried.

If those two boys from that other world hadn't been there…

Well, Jeff had faith that his own Alan would have managed to save them all. Alan was a Tracy and he wouldn't have given up without a fight. He hadn't given up without a fight, if the condition of the Villa and Hangars were any indication as to what had happened when they'd been trapped on Five.

Still, Alan was only fourteen. He shouldn't have had to go up against a madman in his own home. He shouldn't have had to fight or run or nearly be roasted by One's thrusters. (Because Jeff had seen those surveillance videos and was currently fighting with himself over whether or not his other sons needed to see them. And the Other-Virgil, the older Alan's brother, because that older Alan had nearly been killed too.)

Jeff sighed, sitting back at his desk and running a hand down his face. He didn't know what to do about these two children from another world. He was a practical man. But he wasn't a stupid man.

And, yet, he still had no idea about the mechanics that this bigger, stronger Virgil had been talking about. And he knew that his own Virgil was far from stupid; the kid had a degree in Mechanical Engineering, just like his counterpart. But their technology was so different that it made helping the boys build this machine very difficult.

They were learning a lot though.

Jeff hadn't ever thought of moving out of the Aeronautics and Aerospace fields. He'd built a multi-billion-dollar company off those divisions and hadn't really considered moving in any other direction. International Rescue had better tech than anyone, but that was proprietary, and Jeff hadn't ever thought about retrofitting it for civilian use. But those two boys had brought up household technology, and green energy and medical like it was nothing big. And they'd mentioned how their company was a multi-trillion-dollar company.

Trillion.

Jeff didn't think he was a greedy man. He didn't care much about the fact that he had billions of dollars at his leisure except for how it could help International Rescue. He'd always taught his boys that hard work was the only way to expect any full rewards. But the thought of turning his company into something as large as Tracy Industries was proposed to be in an alternate world…that was tempting.

He wanted to try.

He didn't really know where to start, though. He figured he could talk to Scott later about it, ask for his eldest's opinions. Maybe all his sons. They were all involved in the company over in that other world, after all.

Which had given him even more to think about.

Because Jefferson Tracy was a practical man. He didn't think he was a bad father, no. He knew he had his faults, but he thought he'd done well by his sons. Only, he had two boys from another world where apparently his counterpart had decided that testing rockets—on his own, mind you—was a better plan than staying home and raising his kids. Jeff didn't think that he would have made that decision had he been given that opportunity.

But then, for years Scott had been the one taking care of the family while he wallowed in grief over the loss of his wife. So, maybe, he had made the same decisions in a slightly different way. Because he knew that his own Alan was more likely to look at Scott for advice than he was at his own father. Just like those two boys from that other world.

It rankled, just a little. Jeff was too practical to deny that it hurt a bit.

He recalled the discussion between the two Alans he had nearly walked into the other day. They hadn't been talking loudly, but he'd stood outside the doorway to the den and just listened. He felt he could use the insight into his youngest son's head, because they'd been butting up against each other for a while now and he couldn't quite understand why he kept seeming to go wrong with Alan.

"You have a therapist?"

"Of course I have a therapist," the older Alan had muttered back. "What you think rescues are all fun and games? I thought The Hood would have broken you of that delusion." Jeff hadn't thought about the possibility of getting therapists for his sons; he kind of was wishing he'd thought of it before this, to be honest. He made a mental note to look into it.

"Yeah, well I'm not allowed to go on rescues." That had been a rather petulant reply, and Jeff could hear his son's counterpart huff.

"Of course not. Have you passed the training?"

"What?"

"The training. That was the deal that I made with Scott. As soon as I could pass all the training, I could fly rescues."

"I can fly the 'Birds."

"Training is more than just flying, dipshit." And, okay, Jeff didn't allow that level of name calling in his household, but this Alan wasn't his Alan and he didn't feel like he had a leg to stand on when it came to calling him out on his language. "Besides, in order to be allowed to fly Three I had to not only pass training on her but had to beat Dad's record."

"No one can beat Dad's record," his own Alan had grumbled. And that was true; Jeff held the best record with the large red rocket, and that was why he was still her primary pilot.

He peeked into the room to see the other Alan shrug. "Yeah? Maybe you should start training, then. Scott thought it would take me until I was a legal adult. That's on him, though. He should have known better."

"What other training?" Alan asked, sounding a bit intrigued.

The older Alan shrugged again, giving a bit of a wry smile. It was a little sad, too. "I don't know how ya'll do it here," he said, with just a hint of that Kansas accent that his own boys had all but grown out of. He wondered, just a little, when that other version of his family had moved to their own Tracy Island. "But back home, we've got to pass everything from weight training to EMT certification. Ask your brothers. They'll be willing to help."

"They're busy."

"Doubt they're too busy for you."

Jeff had pulled back at that point. Because he'd also heard that bigger version of his Virgil taking his own boys to task at one point for the way they'd been treating their youngest brother. His John had backed up that Virgil, carefully pointing out that there was a thin line between teasing and bullying, and his older sons had been treading that line a little too closely lately. That large Virgil had seemed a little disappointed in the actions and words of his counterpart family, and his big brown eyes had made all of them feel guilty.

Puppy dog eyes were a great weapon, and they were a weapon that Other-Virgil could wield with deadly accuracy. John had been incredibly amused. His Virgil had taken notes.

Jeff sighed, resting his head in his hand. He couldn't father those two boys. They didn't want him to, and he wouldn't know where to start anyway. Seven years without a dad had made them more dependent on each other than anyone else. But he couldn't deny that they felt like his sons, regardless of what world they were from.

The best he could do was continue forward. Fixing the mess that The Hood had caused and helping them build a machine to travel through worlds until they got home.

He'd have to send those two boys on their way without much more than a goodbye and a hope that they eventually got to where they needed to be. He could only hope that the worlds in between would be kind to them.

Shaking his head Jeff pulled his phone out and frowned at it. He could send more than just a goodbye with those boys. He could send them with plenty of supplies. He'd already made sure that Scott had had Alan order clothing. But they would need more than just some changes of clothes.

He'd make sure they would have what they would need. And he'd make sure they had the best chance to get home. He owed them that much at the very least.

He owed them his family.