Alan hadn't moved. He hadn't so much as shifted, twitched, or shivered. Not when Virgil carried him out of the collapsing building. Not when Virgil strapped him into the med bay on Thunderbird Two. Not when Virgil laid him on the medical bed in the infirmary. No. Alan didn't move.
The only moving Alan did was the slow rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. His face showed only a child-like peace as he slumbered.
How Ironic.
Everyone was feeling anything but peaceful at the moment. Gordon was in the back of the infirmary with Scott. They both leaned up against the back counter. Gordon was still laughing, albeit silently now. Scott would elbow him every time he laughed out loud, so he learned to keep it in. But as the laughter was dying and reality was setting in, even Virgil could tell that Gordon was becoming a bit concerned.
Scott, on the other hand, looked like he wanted to shake Alan awake. Or shake someone down for answers. His whole body was ridged with concern and just a hint of anger at the whole situation. The only reason he was standing in the back of the infirmary, keeping quiet, was to give Virgil and Brains space to work. If not for that, Virgil was sure Scott would be by the bedside coaxing Alan to wake up then asking a million and one questions.
Alan's unconsciousness was the biggest problem after all. The alarm bells were ringing in Virgil's head too. He and Brains had been hovering over Alan for the past few minutes, conducting every general health check they could on an unresponsive patient, that wasn't invasive. Everything came back normal; temperature, heart rate, blood oxygen, and respiration were all completely normal for a healthy young boy who was asleep.
But something was clearly wrong, because no matter how much poking and prodding Virgil and Brains did, Alan didn't stir. His face didn't scrunch up nor did his body show any reaction to treatment. Nope. Alan just kept on his peaceful slumber.
It bothered Virgil to no end.
"I-I want to c-conduct some blood tests." Brains requested, snapping Virgil out of his thoughts. "Just to b-be sure everything is n-normal."
Virgil gave a nod and Brains set off to gather the supplies he'd need. He understood what Brains had actually meant. Brains wanted to search for abnormalities in Alan's blood; maybe there was some sort of explanation to this whole ordeal hidden within.
A quick glance at his brothers told Virgil exactly how they felt about Brains' request. Scott's face was set in a scowl, pinched with worry and concern. Gordon's face wore a slight grimace. They weren't fans of the idea but they weren't opposing either. Virgil could understand.
Normally, Alan wasn't a huge fan of needles. Sure, the kid would put on a brave face when he needed to, but waking up to a needle sticking out of your arm, sucking out your blood, was never pleasant.
All too soon, Brains' was back. With him he had a needle, and what looked to be about eight empty labeled test tubes. A rainbow of colors capped the tubes and Virgil only vaguely remembered what each color meant. Pulling up a chair, Brains began to prep Alan's arm.
Everyone held their breath as Brians inserted the needle. Perhaps the sudden prick of the needle would stir some sort of reaction from Alan, though not a pleasant one.
But Alan didn't stir.
The disappointment was deafening. Scott had had enough and he left Gordon's side to stand by Virgil. He placed one hand on Alan's leg and gently squeezed his calf. Alan's calf was so small now and Scott was still wrapping his mind around the whole Alan shrinking situation.
"I wish he'd wake up." Scott said softly, "I have so many questions, but… I need to know that he's ok."
"I a-also have questions." Brains inputted. "The s-science behind something like this would have to be i-incredible."
Virgil was tired. It had been a long couple of hours and he was still in uniform. He sighed heavily, glancing at Scott and Brains before returning his gaze to Alan.
The dull thud of Alan's body hitting the floor echoed in his ears, while the image of an all too still body played on a loop.
"Questions will have to wait until the debrief. I only want to tell this story once." Virgil said a little harsher than he intended. He sighed and ran a hand through Alan's soft hair, "His vitals are all normal and stable. Hopefully, he'll wake up soon."
He has to.
Scott picked up on the stress and exhaustion that laced Virgil's voice as he spoke. He laid his other hand on Virgil's shoulder, attempting to offer a bit of comfort.
It was never easy to see a little brother laid up in the infirmary. Scott should know, he's got four of them and he never stops worrying. But it's a little different when you see it happen. And Virgil, well, he saw it all.
Scott wished he had been there. He wished he could share the burden Virgil currently held. He wished he could do something, anything, other than wait.
Then a whimper came from the bed below them, taking everyone's attention.
Alan's face was scrunched up in discomfort. He shifted, trying to pull his arm away from Brains. Virgil quickly moved to hold him still. Brains had filled about six of the test tubes, leaving only two to go.
"Alan, kiddo, can you hear me?" Virgil said softly.
Alan only whimpered again. He moved his head from side to side.
"Alan, it's ok. Wake up, Allie."
One tube left. Alan drew up one leg and kicked it out. He shifted his whole body as best he could under Virgil's hold.
"Come on Alan, open those beautiful blue eyes for us." Virgil tried again.
Alan turned toward Virgil's direction, his eyelids fluttering momentarily before opening. He squinted against the light, letting his eyes adjust to the brightness of the infirmary, before setting his gaze on Virgil.
Virgil's shoulders dropped in relief, as those blue eyes focused on him, and a small smile came upon his face. "Morning Sprout."
Alan's eyebrows scrunched together in confusion before he suddenly snapped his head towards Brains.
Brains held a needle in one hand and a cotton ball to Alan's arm with the other. Alan gazed at Brains with a look of hurt and betrayal.
"S-sorry" Brains offered to the offended Alan before setting the needle down and tending to his arm.
Alan only gave a slow nod before taking in the rest of the room. His head slowly scanned his surroundings. Gordon had moved from the counter to the foot of the bed, and Scott stood at the side of the bed beside Virgil. Each of them wore faces of relief and concern.
Alan, on the other hand, had a look of confusion on his face. "Virgil", he croaked out. He gave a small cough. His mouth felt so dry. "What happened?"
Brains offered up a cup of water with a straw. Alan drank gratefully before it was cruelly taken away. He was still thirsty.
"Easy Alan," Virgil warned. "How much do you remember?"
Alan scrunched up his face. How much did he remember? What had happened? "I- I remember we were out on a rescue mission. There was a… a collapsing building. We got everyone out but Virgil, you ran back in. That building was going to collapse at any moment. So... I followed you."
Alan paused. He couldn't really remember much more. His mind felt fuzzy. His voice sounded funny too but maybe it was because his mouth was still so dry. His body ached. Alan shifted and gave a soft grunt. When had they come home? Why was he in the infirmary? He couldn't even remember leaving the building.
"Hey Sprout," Scott tried softly. "How do you feel? Do you know where you are?"
Alan shook his head in an attempt to clear some fuzziness. He shifted again before sighing and sinking heavily into the bed. "The infirmary back home… My whole body hurts. Aches, I guess. I'm tired." He drew in a deep breath, "My mind feels really fuzzy. Virgil, what happened? How did I get home?"
Virgil fidgeted where he stood, glancing back at Scott and Gordon before facing Alan. He opened his mouth to say something but then immediately closed it. How was he supposed to explain that Alan's body had reverted back to his five-year-old self?
"You got shrunk, Sprout."
"GORDON." Virgil hissed.
"What? He's gonna find out eventually!"
"You passed out at the rescue site. I brought you home, Alan. In Thunderbird Two."
Alan looked between his brothers in confusion, the gears in his brain slowly turning, before glancing down at his body. Alan's eyes widened at the sight.
Slowly, he sat up and ran his hands over his body. He had tiny hands, tiny feet, tiny legs, tiny everything. He was so small. How could this have happened?
Then the memories hit him like a brick. He remembered running in after Virgil. Turning corner after corner until he came across Virgil and The Hood in a standoff. He acted on instinct and then. Bang.
Drawing in a shaky breath, Alan looked up toward his brothers. "Virgil?"
If everyone's heart broke at Alan's tiny wavering voice, no one would admit it. Virgil lowered himself onto the bed to look Alan in the eyes.
"Sprout, there was an… incident… ah-" Virgil wanted to say more but found the words wouldn't come. What was he supposed to say? That everything would be ok? That they would fix this? But this wasn't ok. And Virgil didn't know if they could fix this.
Watching Virgil struggle, didn't reassure Alan at all. He was small now. What was he supposed to do? He wondered if he would even be able to see over the kitchen counters. And if… if he couldn't see over the kitchen counters, then how was he going to make his breakfast in the morning? And if he couldn't make breakfast, then how was he going to make any meals? How would he look after himself?
How would he… help others?
Alan sucked in his breath, his chest tightening as panic set in. How was he going to pilot Thunderbird 3? How was he going to help on rescues? Could he even drive the pods? He's too small now. He wouldn't be able to reach the handles. He couldn't be a Thunderbird like this. He wouldn't be able to do anything. Nothing.
He wasn't enough anymore. Was he enough before? Alan shook his head.
Deep Breaths, calm down.
The pressure continued to build in Alan's chest. His best efforts to draw in a deep breath were futile, and a dull buzz played in his ears. He felt a lump rise in his throat and tears prick in the corner of his eyes.
His world was crumbling around him, and he was helpless to stop it. He needed to be alone.
Scott, Virgil, and Gordon all picked up on Alan's building distress. Brains quickly left the infirmary, with the blood samples, deciding that this was far out of his level of expertise. And perhaps that the family would like a bit of privacy.
Virgil ran his hands up and down Alan's arms, trying to snap Alan out of his thoughts.
"Come on Alan. Deep breaths kiddo." Virgil muttered softly. "You need to calm down or you'll make yourself sick."
But Alan was having none of it. He squeezed his eyes shut and shrugged off Virgil's hands before curling into a ball.
Just because Alan was in the body of a five-year-old, didn't mean he wasn't nineteen inside. And well, teenage pride is a force to be reckoned with.
Alan had grown up competing with his brothers. Yes, when he was younger, he often ran to them for help, but he was older now. Besides, his brothers couldn't help him. They couldn't make him better again. Virgil couldn't even explain the situation. He just wanted to be left alone, not given false comforts by his brothers.
Scott decided it was time he stepped in.
After moving to the other side of the bed and carefully unhooking the monitors, which were blaring at this point, Scott scooped Alan up into his arms. Guiding him to lay against his chest, Scott began to rub Alan's back and offer comfort.
"It's ok, Sprout. Come on, deep breaths, you'll be ok."
Alan's eyes flew open and his breathing hitched. He almost gave in to Scott's efforts. Almost. But teenage pride screamed in Alan's mind. Scott couldn't help him. Scott couldn't snap his fingers and make everything ok. And despite what Scott said, it wasn't ok. Alan wasn't OK.
He protested. Alan pushed against Scott's chest, locking his elbows so Scott couldn't bring him closer. He couldn't look Scott in the eyes. If he did, he might just give in. So Alan settled for, once again, scrunching his eyes closed. This time a few tears spilled out as he did.
Scott had almost dropped Alan when he had pushed him away. Gordon took this as a sign that Scott might need help. That and Gordon didn't think he could stand by and do nothing for much longer.
Gordon came to stand in front of Scott, creating a sort of human sandwich with Alan in the middle. This way if Scott actually did drop Alan, Gordon would be there to catch him.
The dull buzz in Alan's ears had turned into a deafening roar. His chest hurt so much and his stomach was churning. It was only by sheer willpower that he was keeping most of his tears back. Attempts at deep breaths had been long abandoned.
Alan could hear his brothers talking to him but he wasn't listening. He could feel hands on him, he was still in Scott's arms, but he wanted none of it. Why couldn't his brothers leave and let him break down in peace?
A hand cupped Alan's face and a thumb rubbed his cheek, coaxing him to open his eyes. But no. He didn't want to open his eyes. He didn't want to see his brothers. He didn't want to be reminded of his own situation. He just wanted to be alone. He needed time to process.
Suddenly a voice cut through everything, the chaos, the panic, the stress, everything.
"What's going on here?"
Everyone's attention, including Alan's, snapped to the figure in the doorway. Jeff Tracy, their father, had chosen this moment to enter into the infirmary.
Jeff took in the whole scene about him. A little boy in Scott's arms, with a tear-streaked face. Scott and Gordon who had been frantically trying to calm him. Then Virgil who had been fiddling with the monitors in a futile attempt to silence them. They all looked like deer caught in headlights.
Seeing Jeff had caused something to snap inside of Alan. His breathing hitched before loud sobs and hiccups followed. Fat tears streamed down his face as he again attempted to push Scott away.
Teenage pride be damned. His dad was here. Dad could fix this. Alan's whole world was crumbling but Dad could fix it. Dad would make everything ok, in a way that only dads could. So Alan reached out, in a very child-like manner, for his father.
Jefferson Tracy, having survived eight years in deep space, was a firm believer that nothing was impossible. So when the little boy, who looked very much like a young Alan, desperately reached out for Jeff, he quickly put two and two together. An incident had occurred. Alan was affected. Alan was not currently in the infirmary. This little boy was reaching for Jeff just like Alan had done many, many years ago. No. This little boy was Alan.
Well, it wasn't the craziest thing Jeff had experienced.
So, despite not fully understanding what was going on, he wasted no time in scooping Alan out of Scott's arms and into his own. Alan, in turn, wrapped his arms around Jeff's neck and pressed his face into his shoulders, almost as if to confirm his theory.
Virgil rounded up Scott and Gordon and guided them out of the infirmary. There were protests, but Virgil insisted that they give Alan and their dad this privacy.
Scott looked hesitant. He hovered near his father, despite Virgil's request, with a worried look plastered onto his face. He wanted to do more. He wanted to comfort Alan, take away his frustrations, assure him that everything will be ok… but Alan had pushed him away. It broke Scott's heart.
Jeff could see the dilemma plaguing his oldest son. He could understand. Scott had had to practically raise Alan during those eight years he had been gone. But that was then and Jeff was here now. He could handle this.
"I got him, son." Jeff held Alan a little tighter as the boy shook against him, "Go on with Virgil and Gordon."
Gordon came up beside Scott and wrapped one arm around his shoulders as best he could. Scott was a giant. "Come on Scott. Dad is right. Let's leave them to it."
Scott gave a stiff nod and followed his brothers out of the infirmary, casting one last worried glance to Alan before fully exiting.
Jeff watched the closed door for a moment before Alan let out a particularly loud hiccup. Right. Slowly, he paced the infirmary, firmly holding onto the kid.
"There, there little one. It'll be alright. I know. Life is hard. The world is cruel. I know. But it'll be alright."Jeff gently rocked Alan, much like he did when the kid was younger, and softly patted his back as he paced. "There, there. Just let it out. That's right. It's ok. It'll be OK."
Alan merely sobbed and sobbed, letting go of all his emotions in the arms of his father.
But maybe, just maybe, Jeff was right. Everything would be OK.
