John entered his home and paused just inside the doorway, his senses on alert. It always felt good to return home from space for a while; he enjoyed the time he received with his family very much. But no amount of time on Thunderbird Five would make him forget the welcome waiting for him each and every time he set foot back on Tracy Island. Sharp, suspicious blue eyes examined his surroundings carefully.
Scott bounded into the room, grinning broadly. "Hey, little brother, long time no see!"
John rolled his eyes. Being the second eldest, he rarely got hassled as much as their other younger brothers, but Scott saw fit every now and then to remind John who the oldest was. "Hey, Scott, where's Gordon? And Alan?"
"What, scared?" Scott teased. "Alan's off sulking about something. I don't know where Gordon is."
John, deciding he would rather have Gordon's inevitable prank over with than stand around waiting for it to happen, continued on towards his bedroom. "Alan's sulking? What about this time?"
Scott shrugged, falling into step beside John. "Who knows? We haven't really heard much from him since Spring break. He probably got another bad report, or maybe he's upset that we're going on all these missions and leaving him behind."
John reached the door to his bedroom and paused. Setting his bag down, he twisted the knob and pushed the door open.
Several loud thuds and clangs could be heard coming from inside the bedroom, followed by a splash of some kind of liquid. Several white feathers drifted into the hallway. Scott turned to John, mildly impressed.
"Either Gordon's getting lazy, or you're getting better at spotting his pranks," he commented.
John grinned cheekily. "Just gotta know how the little twerp's mind works. And if he's as predictable as I think he is, he should be coming out of his room right about . . . . . . . now."
As if on cue, Gordon's door opened and the brother in question emerged into the hall, a wide grin threatening to split his face. The smile froze when he saw both of his older brothers watching him expectantly. Before he could turn and run, John darted out and grabbed Gordon's arm in a tight grip and pushed him into the room.
"Gordon!" John exclaimed. "You're just in time to clean my room! Thanks so much for volunteering."
He shoved Gordon into the room, then shut the door. Scott retrieved a chair from the dining room, which John used to prop against the doorknob. The door shuddered as Gordon tried to get out, but didn't open.
John grinned at Scott. "I think he'll be busy for awhile. Let's go say hi to the others."
They found Jeff and Virgil easily, both welcoming John warmly. John frowned, concerned, at his father.
"I thought Alan was going to come up on Thunderbird Three to get me," he stated. "What happened?"
Jeff sighed. "Honestly, I don't know. I tried to talk with him earlier, but he didn't really say much. I'm hoping that he'll snap out of whatever it is by tomorrow. It'll be hard enough to start Alan's training at his age; the last thing I need is a teenager who's preoccupied on top of everything else."
"It's probably nothing," John stated reassuringly. "I wouldn't worry too much. This is Alan, after all. How long could something keep him down, anyway?"
The next week and a half passed by in a blur for Alan. Excited though he was to start his training as a Thunderbird, he still couldn't rid himself of the nagging feeling in the back of his mind that his family just didn't care about him.
Not that his brothers made it any easier on him. Training with Scott, Alan had to endure his eldest brother's harsh criticisms at his poor performance. Alan knew the systems and the ships of International Rescue by heart, but it wasn't enough. Scott constantly nitpicked Alan's actions, scoffed at most of his questions, and ended each session in frustration. Even Alan's love of being a Thunderbird was barely enough to keep him from simply giving up.
Gordon tried to teach Alan about the more intricate functions of Thunderbird Four and navigation through different conditions underwater, but he did so under the guise that Alan was simply too young and immature to really be able to learn what he needed. Alan usually worked well with Gordon, but with Gordon not really taking him seriously, Alan wasn't sure he was doing the right thing.
Jeff and Virgil were both patient and encouraging, but Alan found that he liked working with John the best. John never lost his temper, never treated him as though he were too stupid to learn, and even encouraged asking questions about anything he was unsure of. It was almost worth it to endure the rest of the family's shortcomings to work with John.
Whenever they weren't training, however, Scott, Virgil, and Gordon constantly needled Alan about his poor school performance and his tendency to attract trouble. Alan took it all in stride as usual, but it wasn't until the brothers were all enjoying a beautiful summer day by the pool that their words finally pushed Alan over the edge.
John was reading a book by the side of the pool, ignoring Gordon and Virgil splashing around noisily in the water. Scott sat on the edge, his legs dangling in the cool, refreshing water, grinning widely at his younger brothers' antics. Alan backed away from the pool, took off at a run, and hit the water with a resounding splash, drenching his brothers. He surfaced with a grin, only to have Gordon and Virgil push him back under the water again.
"Alan!"
Five pairs of eyes turned to see Jeff walking towards the pool, a pile of mail clutched in one hand. Gordon and Virgil backed away, allowing Alan to resurface.
"Hi, Dad," Alan said brightly. "You bellowed?"
Jeff ignored the jibe, a slight frown marring his face. "Your report card hasn't come in the mail yet, has it?"
Alan's brow furrowed slightly. "Ah, no, I don't think so. Why?"
"Just checking," Jeff assured him, turning around and heading back inside.
Gordon lightly splashed Alan. "So, did it?"
Alan turned and looked at him, confused. "What, you going deaf?"
"Come on, Alan, it should have been here by now," Virgil chimed in. "What's the matter? Afraid Dad's gonna see your bad grades and pull you from your training?"
Alan flushed with anger. "What makes you so sure I got bad grades?"
Scott scoffed from the side of the pool. "Come on, Sprout, get real. You've gotten bad report cards every year since you were seven. Listen, hiding them from Dad isn't going to help. You should just come clean with him."
Alan felt anger and hurt build within him. "I'm telling the truth! My report card hasn't come in yet! And for your information, I passed all my classes!"
To his further ire, Scott, Virgil, and Gordon all began sniggering. John, unnoticed, lowered his book to watch the display with interest.
Alan sent a final wave of water over Gordon and Virgil, then climbed out of the pool. Grabbing his towel, he stormed into the house. As soon as he had gone, John set his book down and straightened in his chair.
"That wasn't very nice, guys," he said. "What if he was telling the truth?"
"Please, John," Gordon replied. "You know Alan. He's probably flunked some subject and doesn't want to admit that we're right."
"I just hope he owns up before Dad finds out on his own," Scott added.
John shook his head and, standing, followed Alan into the house. He ignored the splashing and laughter that had resumed. He had seen the look on Alan's face, and he knew that his youngest brother needed an ally right about now.
He entered the house in time to hear a door slam in the distance, and he headed straight for the room Alan and Gordon shared. John lifted a hand to knock on the door, but the sound of Alan's voice caused him to pause. Frowning in confusion, he opened Alan's door a crack and listened.
" . . . so mad, you know?" John could picture Alan running a frustrated hand through blond hair. "I mean, I busted my butt this semester to prove to my brothers that I could work just as hard as them, and they don't even believe me!"
Silence ensued. John risked a peek inside and spied Alan standing, staring out the window with his back to John. A cell phone was pressed to Alan's ear.
"Yeah, I know," Alan continued. "You're right, but that doesn't make it any easier. You know what? I'm going to go after all. My family's made it perfectly clear what they think of me. I'd rather hang out with someone who actually wants to, you know? I'll meet you there today at three, all right?"
Alan listened for a minute more, then hung up his phone. John quickly withdrew and shut the door, a frown marring his features. Questions filled his mind: who had Alan been talking to? His only friend was Fermat, and he was up in Thunderbird Five. Where was Alan going? What had been going on at Alan's school this past semester? The questions chased themselves around his head, but John knew that simply confronting Alan would not get them answered. He supposed he could ask Jeff for some insight, but Jeff seemed to be no more aware of Alan's troubles than anyone else. Asking their brothers was out of the question. The display at the pool was enough to convince John of that.
John retreated to his bedroom and changed into some street clothes. Carefully affixing his watch/communicator to his wrist and checking his wallet and cell phone, he jotted down a note to tell his family what he was doing. He knew that if he wanted to help Alan, then he would have to tail the teenager himself.
He had just finished scribbling his note to his father when he heard the door to Alan's room close again. Quickly folding the paper in half and jotting down his father's name, John straightened and hurried to his door, checking to make sure Alan was not in the hall.
Alan's eyes were darting all around, hunting for some sign of life as he made his way down to the dock where several motorboats were moored. Despite the situation, John smiled wryly. Alan would need lessons on how to check for tails properly once this whole ordeal was straightened out.As Alan prepared one of the boats for launch, John ducked behind the boathouse and waited until the sound of the motorboat had faded away. Once the coast was clear, John hopped into another boat and immediately set out after Alan. The further away they drew from Tracy Island, the uneasier John became. He hoped that Alan's actions amounted to nothing more than a teenager needing to blow off some steam.
Somehow, John didn't feel that he would be so lucky.
"Alan! John! Dinner!"
Gordon bounded down the hall, his hair still damp from that day's activities in the pool. He opened the door to his and Alan's room.
"Alan, quit sulking and-." He stopped when he saw that the room was empty. Frowning slightly in confusion, Gordon turned and headed instead for John's room.
"Hey, John, do you know where-." He cut himself off again when he saw that John's room, too, held no occupants. A note sitting on John's dresser drew Gordon's eyes, and he reached over and lifted it. Ignoring his father's name on the front, he unfolded it and quickly scanned its contents. He had barely finished when he turned and ran back downstairs.
"Dad, they're gone!" he cried, waving John's note in the air.
Scott and Virgil froze in place, but Jeff crossed to Gordon's side and snatched the note from his son's hand. "What?"
"Where did they go?" Virgil demanded as Jeff's brown eyes skimmed the note.
"Apparently, Alan went to go meet somebody, and John decided to follow him," Gordon told Virgil and Scott. "But who would Alan go see? Tin Tin's too far away, and Fermat's up in space. Alan doesn't have any other friends."
"Why would he just take off?" Scott wondered.
"He can tell us that when we see him," Jeff decided firmly, his jaw set.
"Are we going out to look for them?" Virgil asked.
Jeff stared blankly at the letter in his hand before reaching his decision. "Alan's reckless, but if John's watching him, he should be okay. I'll give them two hours, and then we're going after them."
The boys involuntarily shuddered at the steel in their father's tone. None of them envied Alan or John when they returned.
Alan hurried across a busy intersection, completely oblivious to his older brother's watchful eyes tracking his every movement. He grinned widely at the familiar figure waiting for him by the fence that enclosed a basketball court and headed straight for him.
John's eyes narrowed in suspicion as he studied the young man that Alan struck up a lively conversation with. He didn't look too old; probably around his or Scott's age. Where had Alan met him?
The young man slung an arm around Alan's shoulders and began to guide Alan down the street away from the basketball courts. Alan went willingly, though his smile turned slightly confused. John crossed the street and followed the pair at a discreet distance. Glancing quickly at his watch, John pulled out his cell phone and dialed his home number.
It was answered on the first ring. "Hello?"
John raised his eyebrows. "Damn, Scott, are you sitting on the phone?"
"John?" He heard Scott's voice raise incredulously and listened as Scott called out to someone else. "Dad! John's on the phone!"
There was a series of mumbling, then Jeff's voice rang in John's ears. "John? Where the hell are you? Is Alan all right?"
"Alan's fine, Dad," John assured his father. "He met up with some guy, and they're walking down the street now."
The relief was palpable in Jeff's tone, even from a distance. "Listen, John, find some way of getting Alan back over here. I don't know who he could be meeting with, but I'd rather not take any chances."
"All right, Dad, I'll go and get him," John promised. "Talk to you later."
He put his phone away and picked up his pace. Alan and the young man were farther away now, and had just taken a turn around the corner of an abandoned store. John spared the barest of glances around the neighborhood, taking in the decidedly less than friendly atmosphere. The sooner he reached his little brother, the better.
John turned the corner and skidded to a halt. Shock overcame him as he saw a group of five or six men clad in black surround Alan, backing him into the wall. The young man Alan had been with was watching the scene with a look of disinterest on his face.
The temporary paralysis wore off. "Hey!" John yelled. "Get away from him!"
Every eye in the alleyway turned to him. John assumed a defensive stance, preparing to fight the men threatening his brother. Alan's jaw dropped in shock.
The young man drew a gun from under his jacket and aimed it at John. "You just made a very big mistake, man."
Alan shoved past the men surrounding him and ran over to John, placing himself between his brother and the gun. "Josh, no! What are you doing?"
"Step aside, Alan," Josh stated coldly. "I'd rather not have you harmed just yet."
John drew Alan away from the gun and glared at Josh. "What do you want with my brother?"
"Brother?" Josh's face revealed surprise. Glancing at his cohorts, he shrugged. "Maybe this can work to our advantage after all. We'll take them both."
John shoved Alan back the way they had come. "Alan, go! Get out of here! I'll hold them off!"
"No!" Alan protested. "I won't leave you!"
"Alan-," John began to argue, but never got to finish. Three of the men pounced on him, wrestling him to the ground. John twisted around, lashing out with hands and feet, but the men were too strong. As he struggled to free himself, he saw Josh approach with his gun. The last image John had was of the butt of the gun swinging down towards his face.