Warning for language. There's like one bad word and couple of iffy ones.
There was a new rule. Just one:
Do not go outside or into the hangers alone.
Its purpose was to protect, as all rules do. But like all rules, it was also meant to be broken.
The day had passed by relatively calmly.
Alan bounced excitedly on the couch in the lounge, having changed into clothing that fit him much better than Virgil's flannel. A simple red shirt and grey pants from his childhood that he had long forgotten until Grandma had pulled them out.
John, after having packed up Thunderbird Five and leaving EOS to look after it, was due home any minute.
"Alan. Quit jumping on the couch." Virgil said from his seat at the piano, not bothering to look up from the keys. "The last thing we need is for you to trip and hit your head."
"I'm not gonna fall."
"Yeah, until you do, so cut it out."
Alan let himself fall bonelessly onto the couch. He just couldn't help all the energy he had. He was so excited to see John!
There was going to be a meteor shower that night. He and John had been tracking it for weeks, and John had planned to come down just so they could watch it together. The whole shrunken issue had thrown a wrench in things, causing John to have a longer stay, but Alan didn't see why they couldn't still go out to see the shower. He would be accompanied by an adult, after all, so it's not like he would be breaking the new rule… yet.
They would spend the whole night together. Looking at the stars, and talking. John would talk about the books he's read or the book he's currently writing. Or he would talk about EOS. Usually, it was something funny she did, or how she's developed so much over the years. And Alan could talk about the happenings in his life. About interesting rescues he'd been on, or how horrible it was to be small again. But most importantly, they would watch the stars.
The hologram in the middle of the coffee table suddenly lit up, alerting the room's occupants that the space elevator had successfully docked. Alan felt his smile widen, excitement and anticipation swelling up inside of him. John was here.
It only took a few minutes for the elevator door to ding, and for John to step into the room. But upon seeing him, Alan's face fell. John looked horrible.
His face was pale, with a tint of green. His eyes scrunched up in pain. His hair thrown askew, not in the neat comb-over that John was so proud of. He was leaning heavily on Gordon, who had gone out to meet him, and had one hand loosely covering his mouth. In an instant, Virgil was by his side. They murmured in low voices. John nodded slightly. Then Virgil supported John's other side and they steadily trekked out of the living room, up the stairs to the bedrooms.
Alan sat frozen on the living room sofa. He felt a tirade of emotions run through him. Firstly, he felt concerned for John. His brother obviously didn't feel well. What had happened? Was John feeling ill before? Why didn't he say something?
Then came the disappointment. The realization that John wasn't going to be able to go out tonight. They wouldn't go out on a short hike. They wouldn't go to see the stars. They wouldn't laugh, joke, and catch up as Alan had so deeply looked forward to. John wasn't feeling well. It was a crushing disappointment.
Tears pricked at the back of Alan's eyes.
He shook his head. What was he doing? He had no right to be disappointed, upset. John was hurt. John was probably feeling much worse than he was. John needed comfort.
Slowly, Alan slid off the couch and made his way up the stairs. He needed to check on John. Tell him it was ok, and that he should rest. They could watch the stars another night.
Gordon exited the room and gently closed the door behind him just as Alan approached the bedroom. "Hey," Gordon said softly, catching the kid as he tried to slip into the bedroom, "What are you doing up here?"
"Is John ok?"
Gordon gave a soft smile, "He's fine. He's just got a killer headache."
"Oh." Alan fiddled with his fingers, keeping his gaze on the closed door, "Can I see him?"
"I'm afraid not. Virge is still checking him over, then he needs his rest."
Alan's shoulders dropped, disappointment grew. He'd really wanted to talk to John.
"Have you eaten dinner yet?" Gordon asked, "Cuz I haven't. I can make us something. If you'd like."
Reluctantly, Alan nodded. He allowed himself to be guided into the kitchen, away from the bedroom door.
Gordon filled the electric kettle and set it to boil while he pulled out two bowls and two packets of instant noodles. While Gordon made the best pancakes, it was just about the only thing he could make without burning the kitchen down. He opened the packets and dumped the contents into their respective bowls.
Alan clung to Gordon's pant leg while he kept his gaze fixed on the stairs, hoping that maybe his space-loving brother would appear.
Gordon glanced down occasionally to the little boy who only had eyes for the stairs. Once the kettle clicked off, he moved the bowls to the table, poured the water in, and capped them.
Alan followed him like a depressed duckling.
"Don't look so down." Gordon offered, trying to give the most encouraging smile he could. "John will be ok."
Alan didn't say anything. He just hopped onto one of the stools. Gordon placed a bowl in front of him and set a set of chopsticks off to the side. He uncapped the bowl to reveal the plump golden noodles inside.
The noodles looked good, but the chopsticks made eating difficult. They kept fumbling in Alan's hand. He seemed to always drop one, hold them too low, or cross the sticks. Why were his little hands so clumsy? When he did finally manage to get a proper hold, it usually wasn't strong enough and the noodles would slip out, splashing a tiny bit of broth into his face. He contemplated asking for a fork but Alan had stubborn determination.
They tasted like cardboard. Alan again felt tears sting at the edge of his eyes. The noodles tasted like cardboard... And John wasn't here.
What felt like an eternity and half a bowl of noodles later, Virgil came down the stairs into the kitchen. He raised an eyebrow upon seeing the meal his two youngest brothers had situated themselves with. It really wasn't the healthiest choice.
"How is he?" Gordon asked before picking up the bowl and drinking down the last of his broth. Alan, while picking dishearteningly at his noodles, looked up at the question.
"He'll be fine. Just a migraine." Virgil replied. "I gave him some pain meds. He should be out for the rest of the night."
Gordon sighed. "Poor John. Any idea what went wrong?"
"From my understanding, he took re-entry a little too fast. Took a toll on his body."
"That's what I thought too… Did you check on Scott?"
"I did. Thankfully, he's still sleeping. He really needed it."
"Thankfully," Gordon stressed, "the world has been holding its own. We haven't been called out all day."
"True." Virgil sat down with a heavy sigh. "I can't imagine going out on rescue right now."
"Me neither." Gordon admitted, "You know, as much as I wanted a vacation, this sucks."
"What sucks?"
"This!" Gordon gestured vaguely in front of him, then looked at Virgil, expecting him to understand. "This whole situation! It blows big time."
"I know. But we're dealing with it."
Alan shoved himself out of the stool. He stood there for a few moments before moving to exit the room, his bowl of noodles long abandoned. Gordon shot him a quizzical look.
"Where are you going?" He called after the boy.
"To my room." Was the sullen, emotionless reply.
It took every ounce of willpower Alan had to gently close his bedroom door, instead of slamming it so hard the wall vibrated. No. If he did that his brothers would be here in an instant.
Hot tears pressed at his eyes, and he roughly ran a hand over his face.
We're dealing with it.
Virgil's words rang out in Alan's ears. He stalked over to a large box in his room, opened the top, and began carelessly flinging clothes around the room as he looked for a specific article of clothing.
We're dealing with it.
'Dealing with it' was why Scott was currently asleep, having worked himself to exhaustion the night before. 'Dealing with it' was why Virgil didn't look Alan in the eyes anymore. 'Dealing with it' was why John had to pack up Thunderbird Five and rush on re-entry so much that he literally got sick from it. 'Dealing with it' was why Gordon seemed overly kind and didn't joke anymore, like he was dancing on eggshells whenever he talked to Alan.
We're dealing with it.
Alan scrubbed a hand over his face again. The clothing blurred in front of him. He dropped whatever he was holding in his other hand, and began to wipe at his face with both hands. A ragged sob escaped his lips.
We're dealing with it.
Bullshit.
Pull yourself together, Tracy.
Alan sniffled and reached blindly into the box. This time, he pulled out what he was looking for. A small navy-blue hoodie with a faded rocket graphic on the front. He was going to see the stars tonight. He needed to see them.
He pulled the sweater over his head. With a bitter feeling in his stomach, he noted that it fit perfectly. He grabbed the flashlight from his desk and shoved it in his pocket. Then he silently crept out of his room and into John's.
The room was dark. Light from the hallway streaked through the room, across the foot of the bed. John laid on his back, perfectly still, breathing slow and even breaths. A damp, rolled-up towel sat over his eyes.
Alan tiptoed into the room, trying to hold his breath as he did so. He didn't want to accidentally wake him. John had always been a good listener and was always there when times were tough. It was a risk just being in the room, for fear he might wake up.
Alan gently took John's hand. He wanted to say something. To assure the sleeping John that everything would be ok. That the stars will be there tomorrow and the day after.
"When you get better, I'll bring you chocolate." He said softly.
It wasn't a long hike to the lookout point they had planned to go to. It took more effort to sneak out of the house unnoticed. Alan arrived at his destination in less than 15 minutes, his path carefully lit by his flashlight as he went.
The cool salty night breeze whipped through his hair. Crickets chirped away, and the silent sounds of night rose up around him. The rustle of trees, the crash of waves on the shore, the soft rustling of birds. No clouds. No light pollution. The night sky stretched impossibly above him. More stars than he could ever count. Deep blue and purple, dotted with a billion blazing balls of light, millions of light-years away. And one little boy standing alone on the mountain top of an island in the middle of an ocean on one planet lost in the infinitesimal wonder of the universe.
Alan sat down. He drew his knees up and hugged them close to his chest.
What happened?
The day hadn't been too bad. It had been relatively calm. Why was he so upset? Why had what Virgil said upset him so much?
Wasn't everything… ok now?
We're dealing with it.
The tears came silently, glistening in gentle moonlight. They streaked across the sky, leaving light trails of stardust behind them.
A blanket draped around his shoulders. Alan nearly jumped out of his skin.
"It hasn't even been 24 hours, and you already broke the new rule." Virgil looked at Alan with soft eyes full of concern as he sat on the ground beside him, "But I won't tell Dad if you don't."
Alan drew in a shaky, sniveling breath. He quickly ran a hand across his face to rid himself of any tears. He wouldn't be weak in front of his brothers. Sure, he'd broken down in the infirmary but that was an exception! He had to be-
"I'm sorry." Virgil's words cut through Alan's thoughts. His breath caught in his throat as Virgil continued on calmly. "I'm sorry that this happened to you... I should have been paying more attention during the rescue, asking more questions. Maybe if I had seen that things were going a little too perfectly, maybe the outcome would have been different."
Alan looked up at Virgil in shock. Was Virgil… apologizing?
"But I was on autopilot…" Virgil continued, "God, it was supposed to be such a routine rescue. I didn't expect The Hood to be there."
"None of us did." Alan found himself saying.
"Still! I was so stunned when I met him. I didn't even hear you follow. Then after he shot you… I couldn't do anything! I couldn't even go after him! He got away!"
"It's not your fault."
"But it is, Alan. If I had been paying more attention. If I had done something, anything, different then maybe we wouldn't be here! I'm supposed to protect you! I couldn't even-"
"NO!" Alan interrupted, "It was my choice! I'm old enough to make my own decisions. I followed you. I jumped in front of you! I'm not mad at you Virge. I never once blamed you for this! It's my fault!"
There were tears in Virgil's eyes. "No. No, it's not your fault."
"Yes, it is. I know it is."
"No, Alan. It isn't." Virgil wrapped an arm around Alan, drawing him in closer, before resting his head on top of Alan's blond mop. He breathed in the faint scent of their grandmother's lavender shampoo then let out a sigh. "It's not mine either. I'm sorry. I'm really, really sorry."
Alan pressed his face into Virgil's side. The words of apology replayed again and again in his mind. It was… confusing. He was supposed to feel relieved, wasn't he? So why were his insides twisting up so uncomfortably?
We're dealing with it.
"It's not ok," Alan whispered.
Virgil's eyebrows furrowed together. "What do you mean? What's not ok?"
"... Everything. I tried really hard to be happy. To be ok. I was really excited to see John."
"But?"
"I don't know. I think… I was really looking forward to doing something normal. John and I were gonna watch the stars."
"There will be time to watch the stars when John is better."
"I know!... I know. I just- I just thought that if we did something normal tonight, then it would mean that everything was ok… But it's not ok. I'm not ok."
"Oh, Allie... Why didn't you say anything? You can talk to us."
"Because you guys weren't much better! You've hardly even looked at me this whole time! Like just the sight of me upset you!"
"I'm sorry. I really am. I thought… that you wouldn't want to be around me. I couldn't handle the guilt I felt when I saw you."
"And then you said we were dealing with it. Like I was some problem." Alan's words were like daggers. Virgil felt his heart drop.
"Hey, no." Virgil ran his hand up and down Alan's back. He moved in an attempt to meet the kid in the eye, "Alan no. Never. You aren't some problem to be dealt with. Things just aren't going smoothly right now, and I meant that we were dealing with it. Together."
Alan looked up at Virgil with large eyes full of tears. "I'm not just some hazard who needs to be watched at all times? Or some burden that's just causing extra trouble, not worth the extra effort?"
Virgil inwardly winced. "No. Alan, no. You aren't a burden. And trust me, Scott wouldn't have stayed by your side all night, if you weren't worth the effort. You're worth every ounce of effort… But... the new rule is there for your safety. Plus, Scott worries a lot, you know? We all do. It would save us a lot of grief if we knew you weren't in danger all the time."
"So I am a danger."
"Alan." Virgil said firmly, "Things are just different right now. You're different. We just want to play it safe."
Alan drew his legs up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. With a sniffle he rested his head on his knees, effectively curling into a ball. He knew things were different.
"Is that why you were upset?" Virgil asked gently.
"Yes... partly. Mostly."
Virgil hummed. He rubbed soft circles into Alan's back. He waited for a moment, but Alan didn't continue on. If the kid didn't want to share more, then it was perfectly fine. Virgil wasn't going to push. Nor was he going anywhere anytime soon. Instead, he looked up. The stars were dazzling. Twinkling across the sky in such simple beauty.
"I just... I wanted to be strong" Alan began. "… for everyone. I tried to be happy. I thought I had to be. That if I was, then everything would be ok. But I'm not happy. Virgil! What if there is no solution? What if I never grow up!? What if I can never be a part of International Rescue again!?"
"Woah Alan. Calm down." Virgil said, "Look at me. It is ok. Not being ok, needing other people, needing someone to listen to your troubles, it's all ok... You know, it takes someone with incredible strength and bravery to ask for help."
"... But I didn't ask for help. I ran away."
"That might be true, but you're talking to me now. I'm very proud of you. And your concerns? They're 100% valid. But we are going to do everything we can to find The Hood and get you back to normal. Until then, we'll deal with whatever comes our way, together."
Twinkling stars fell across the sky. They streaked in beautiful sparkling streams. A meteor shower. One alone is beautiful, but together they create a dazzling array. Brief, only lasting a moment. Silently dancing through the vast, impossible emptiness. Blink, and they're gone. But at that moment, they were truly beautiful.
End Part 1
This chapter has a bit of a special place in my heart. Also,
"End Part 1?" Author, what do you mean?
I'm glad you asked! When I was inspired to write To Be Five Again, I actually wanted to create a series of short stories focused on the adventures/happenings of little Alan. But as I began to flesh out the idea more, I realized how traumatic it would be to be shrunken. Hence, Part 1 ended up focusing on the situation and how the characters reacted to it. I felt that with Alan and Virgil's heart to heart, this was a good place to end it. Part 2 will focus more on the happenings of little Alan.
Hope you enjoyed! Stay tuned for the next chapter!
