Here's another chapter! Sorry it took so long. Thanks to Sam for the extra
push I needed to settle down and write a bit more. Also, for the words that
got my mind turning about the airlock (you'll find out when you read what
I'm talking about). Review please, and thanks so much to everyone who has
already!
********
The door slides open and I force my legs to walk through it, though other parts of my body are screaming at them to stop. The little suitcase I hold so tightly in my hands begins to slip from my grasp as sweat runs down my forehead into my eyes. You can't enter Thunderbird 5 undetected, and the click of Thunderbird 3 docking is far from inaudible. I am sure Alan knew someone was here.
I am also sure he would be surprised when he saw it was me.
I press the button to open the door to the main control room and frown when I find it stuck. No matter how hard I push, the button will not accept my finger and my command to let me inside. I hear Thunderbird 3 slip away and the clamps holding it to the space station lock back into place before I turn around and look back down the hall.
That's when I notice the cameras. Of course! Alan was keeping me away by locking me in the airlock. It was a childish game he and John had played frequently in the early years of International Rescue, to see who could stay in there the longest without complaint. Once their father had caught onto their friendly game, he'd put an end to it and it had been forgotten, almost as if it failed to exist at all.
The cameras caught every move of anyone in the airlock, so Alan could be sure it was one of his brothers before opening the door. That was exactly what he was doing now - watching me, maybe from the control room itself, maybe from the monitor in his quarters.
"Alan, let me in," I say quietly. I know the sensitive speakers will pick up my voice.
"Why are you here, Tin-Tin?" His words are a shock to the silence of the airlock and I nearly jump as they come out of the intercom beside the door.
"I want to talk to you."
"So talk." Alan sounds drained and brusque, as if he's been awake for days.
"Let me in," I repeat, looking at one of the cameras pleadingly. "I'm not going to have a conversation with a camera and a speaker."
The door opens behind me without another word and I cross the threshold into Thunderbird 5. I put my bag down just inside and turn to face the front panel, seeing a familiar tangle of blond hair barely visible over the top of the large chair. It spins around and I stare at Alan, dressed simply in jeans and one of his faded Colorado University t-shirts. There are visible shadows under his eyes and even those have lost their playful spark.
"Talk," Alan commands, reminding me for a moment of his father. The look in his gaze is cold and unbreakable and I feel as if I am doomed to become a block of ice under it.
I take a few steps towards him on numb legs. I haven't come prepared; I didn't know how he was going to react to my presence. "I'm sorry, Alan," I find myself stating weakly.
"Sorry doesn't cut it, Tin-Tin." He stands up and breezes past me. I'm positive I can feel the frost in his words. I watch as he taps various keys on the control panel, my awe at how it has become so easy for him after so many years resurfacing as it always did when I see one of the Tracy's working one of the crafts effortlessly.
I snap out of my daze and try to force the weariness from my limbs as I stand next to him and peer at his hands running mechanically over the keys on the panel. It's so automatic to him as he manually traces signals that he no longer has to look at his fingers.
"What can I say to you to make you understand how terrible I feel?" I ask, knowing I'm clutching at straws. Alan, though usually easy to forgive, can hold a firm grudge if the crime towards him is worthy of the energy.
"Nothing." He finishes his scanning and sets the computer up to do it so he doesn't have to bother for the rest of the night. Alan turns to me and I can see the darkness in his eyes, knowing that image will haunt me for years to come. I've never seen him this way before. "Have you ever woken up at the crack of dawn, rolled out of bed on a lonely satellite and walked into the main room in your pajamas to find the live feed from your home coming through as clear as day? And do you know what I saw on the screen, Tin-Tin? My girlfriend, the person I love more than she'll ever know, passionately kissing my brother on my father's desk." His voice cracks with emotion and I have to resist the urge to reach out and wrap my arms around him. He composes himself quickly, his eyes never leaving mine. "Do you have any idea what that does to a person?"
Alan knows full well I do not, as I had never really had a boyfriend before him. I had been much too busy trying to look after both my father and myself, as well as trying to manage every other aspect of life before meeting Mr. Tracy and moving with him to the island. I shake my head slowly, wishing he would explode and yell. At least then I would have something to go on. To see him so submissive and vulnerable breaks what remains of my heart in two. Where is the Alan I know, and what has happened to him?
"There is a cot in the big closet by John's room. You can unfold that and sleep in here, if you want. Or you can use his bed, though he gets fussy about people in his room." Alan shuts off the main light in the foremost section of the satellite, throwing it into near-blackness. The only light now is the faint glow from the screens and buttons decorating the panels, casting eerie fire over his blond hair.
I nod vaguely, knowing our discussion is over for the night. I'll let him rest, hopefully clearing his mind in the process. Maybe then he'll listen to what I have to say.
********
The door slides open and I force my legs to walk through it, though other parts of my body are screaming at them to stop. The little suitcase I hold so tightly in my hands begins to slip from my grasp as sweat runs down my forehead into my eyes. You can't enter Thunderbird 5 undetected, and the click of Thunderbird 3 docking is far from inaudible. I am sure Alan knew someone was here.
I am also sure he would be surprised when he saw it was me.
I press the button to open the door to the main control room and frown when I find it stuck. No matter how hard I push, the button will not accept my finger and my command to let me inside. I hear Thunderbird 3 slip away and the clamps holding it to the space station lock back into place before I turn around and look back down the hall.
That's when I notice the cameras. Of course! Alan was keeping me away by locking me in the airlock. It was a childish game he and John had played frequently in the early years of International Rescue, to see who could stay in there the longest without complaint. Once their father had caught onto their friendly game, he'd put an end to it and it had been forgotten, almost as if it failed to exist at all.
The cameras caught every move of anyone in the airlock, so Alan could be sure it was one of his brothers before opening the door. That was exactly what he was doing now - watching me, maybe from the control room itself, maybe from the monitor in his quarters.
"Alan, let me in," I say quietly. I know the sensitive speakers will pick up my voice.
"Why are you here, Tin-Tin?" His words are a shock to the silence of the airlock and I nearly jump as they come out of the intercom beside the door.
"I want to talk to you."
"So talk." Alan sounds drained and brusque, as if he's been awake for days.
"Let me in," I repeat, looking at one of the cameras pleadingly. "I'm not going to have a conversation with a camera and a speaker."
The door opens behind me without another word and I cross the threshold into Thunderbird 5. I put my bag down just inside and turn to face the front panel, seeing a familiar tangle of blond hair barely visible over the top of the large chair. It spins around and I stare at Alan, dressed simply in jeans and one of his faded Colorado University t-shirts. There are visible shadows under his eyes and even those have lost their playful spark.
"Talk," Alan commands, reminding me for a moment of his father. The look in his gaze is cold and unbreakable and I feel as if I am doomed to become a block of ice under it.
I take a few steps towards him on numb legs. I haven't come prepared; I didn't know how he was going to react to my presence. "I'm sorry, Alan," I find myself stating weakly.
"Sorry doesn't cut it, Tin-Tin." He stands up and breezes past me. I'm positive I can feel the frost in his words. I watch as he taps various keys on the control panel, my awe at how it has become so easy for him after so many years resurfacing as it always did when I see one of the Tracy's working one of the crafts effortlessly.
I snap out of my daze and try to force the weariness from my limbs as I stand next to him and peer at his hands running mechanically over the keys on the panel. It's so automatic to him as he manually traces signals that he no longer has to look at his fingers.
"What can I say to you to make you understand how terrible I feel?" I ask, knowing I'm clutching at straws. Alan, though usually easy to forgive, can hold a firm grudge if the crime towards him is worthy of the energy.
"Nothing." He finishes his scanning and sets the computer up to do it so he doesn't have to bother for the rest of the night. Alan turns to me and I can see the darkness in his eyes, knowing that image will haunt me for years to come. I've never seen him this way before. "Have you ever woken up at the crack of dawn, rolled out of bed on a lonely satellite and walked into the main room in your pajamas to find the live feed from your home coming through as clear as day? And do you know what I saw on the screen, Tin-Tin? My girlfriend, the person I love more than she'll ever know, passionately kissing my brother on my father's desk." His voice cracks with emotion and I have to resist the urge to reach out and wrap my arms around him. He composes himself quickly, his eyes never leaving mine. "Do you have any idea what that does to a person?"
Alan knows full well I do not, as I had never really had a boyfriend before him. I had been much too busy trying to look after both my father and myself, as well as trying to manage every other aspect of life before meeting Mr. Tracy and moving with him to the island. I shake my head slowly, wishing he would explode and yell. At least then I would have something to go on. To see him so submissive and vulnerable breaks what remains of my heart in two. Where is the Alan I know, and what has happened to him?
"There is a cot in the big closet by John's room. You can unfold that and sleep in here, if you want. Or you can use his bed, though he gets fussy about people in his room." Alan shuts off the main light in the foremost section of the satellite, throwing it into near-blackness. The only light now is the faint glow from the screens and buttons decorating the panels, casting eerie fire over his blond hair.
I nod vaguely, knowing our discussion is over for the night. I'll let him rest, hopefully clearing his mind in the process. Maybe then he'll listen to what I have to say.