The Winds of Advent

by darkhelmetj

A collection of scenes that will fill in the gaps between Lucy Tracy's death, and the time period shown in the movie. Chapter 35, Reflection and Final Thoughts, is up! Story COMPLETE. Thank you everyone for reading!

27. The Growing Family

---

Dislcaimer: Thunderbirds is the property of Gerry and Sylvia Anderson, as well as Carlton and Universal. No profit is intended to be made from this story; it is for entertainment purposes only. No copyright infringement is intended, and none should be inferred. All original characters are the property of the author. This story should not be used or copied without the expressed written consent of the author.

---

The Growing Family
March 2019

Stopping only once to look behind him, Alan Tracy jogged as fast as he could across the rocky beach of Tracy Island, his breath escaping from his mouth in laboured gasps and wheezes. As much as he liked to think of himself as being in good shape, the thirteen-year-old knew there was no comparison between him and his four older brothers. Even John managed to keep himself in decent shape while up on Thunderbird Five, and he was by far the least fit of Alan's brothers.

Glancing around again, Alan quickly darted behind a grove of palm trees, hiding behind the wide trunks so that only the tips of his blond hair were blown into the open by the wind. There was no way that he was letting them catch him. He had tried to explain to Virgil that he had not intended careen into his baby grand piano with a box of dead bugs, but Virgil – too enraged at the thought of damage to his prized possession – had been past the point of conversation.

It was a rare thing indeed for Virgil Tracy to become angry, and Alan hated to be around within arm's reach when he was.

The sound of feet hitting the sand alerted Alan to the approach of his brother. From the noises, it seemed as though Virgil had company. Sure enough, as the footsteps came closer, Alan could pick out two very distinct voices deep in conversation.

"I swear, Gordon, I'm gonna kill him."

Alan took a deep breath, and tried to convince himself that his brother would never lay a hand on him. Even if he was angry, after all, Virgil was generally mellow enough to shrug things aside. Eventually.

"Want some help? I think I've got some fishing wire in my room still."

"No. That'd be a bit messy. Geeze though, Gord, you don't know how glad I am that you're finally home for break. I've been going insane here, what with John gone and Scott and Dad always busy with something. At least I have someone to talk to."

But no one ever cared if Alan was home. More and more he was beginning to feel like a burden that was constantly tossed from one place to another, like a game of hot potato that no one really wanted to play. It just wasn't fair. The rest of his family could goof off all they wanted, and Alan was stuck in school, in classes that he hated, when he really wanted to help out his family. He didn't want to be learning math and science - he wanted to be doing something important.

Gordon was in the same position, of course, but it wasn't as though he were held down to his academics. With the amount of swimming that the other boy did, it was a wonder that he was still in school at all. Plus, he was going to be allowed to join International Rescue as soon as he graduated. Alan still had quite a few years of schooling ahead of him, which was a thought that did not impress him in the least.

Look at him, Alan thought darkly, peering around the edge of the tree just far enough that he could make out Virgil and Gordon's forms standing by the water. Another of Dad's perfect sons. He's worse at school than me, and Dad's still proud of him. I don't want to be at school either, and he's making me do it anyway. Why can't he be proud of me? Why can't he let me do what I want? It's just not fair.

The sharp sound of a breaking twig resonated in the air as Alan's foot slipped and came down on a piece of driftwood. In the distance, Gordon and Virgil turned suddenly in his direction, the older boy's eyes lighting with fire.

"Did you hear that?"

"Little squirt must be over there." The red-head's voice jumped up an octave. "Heeelloo, Alan, come out, come out, wherever you are! We're not gonna hurt you."

Somewhat sardonically, Virgil added, "Much."

The time for hiding was long past; launching himself from the tree, Alan tried desperately to pick his way through the heavy jungle back up to the house. The tree leaves scratched at his cheeks, and several branches snapped and hit him in the stomach as he fled. Finally, out of breath but still ahead of his brothers, Alan broke through the cover onto the lower pool deck of the home.

Back in the bush, he could hear Virgil and Gordon shouting for him to come back.

"Like hell," he groaned, looking around for a place that he could possibly hide on the pool deck. The grated cover of the air vent caught his eye, and he ran for the entrance and began to pry the metal open with his hands.

The door, rusted from the sea water atmosphere of the island, was half open when a voice asked calmly from behind him, "Alan, what are you doing?"

Alan turned around, and looked up sheepishly into the confused face of his father. Jeff Tracy peered down at him intently, his arms folded across his chest.

"Uh . . ." Giving the gate a kick with his foot, Alan quickly stood up and gave his father an innocent grin. "Just checking to make sure that the vents still open. We really need to fix these, they're getting all rusty."

At the exact same moment that his father's face bent into a frown, Alan's brothers came exploding out of the overgrowth, covered in leaves and twigs and looking like they were ready to skin him alive.

There was definitely a lesser of the two evils. "So Dad, what's up?"

It was the magical question. With a renewed smile – the grate apparently having been forgotten – Jeff took his son by the shoulder and directed him towards the house. "I'm glad that you asked that, Alan. Truth is, we have some visitors, and I'd like you to meet them." As if sensing the presence of his other sons, the older man looked behind him and nodded toward the house. "You too, boys."

Alan didn't have to look to know that his brothers were fuming. It didn't take much imagination – Gordon was always infuriated about something, and Virgil, when he was actually angry, was hard to forget or ignore.

Thankful that he had been spared for the moment, Alan followed his father into the house.

---

She was a pretty little girl, Jeff Tracy noted, very delicate and refined compared to many of the girls he had seen his sons tagging along with at school. A dark Malaysian complexion highlighted a large pair of brown eyes. It was the eyes that spoke of intelligence, always darting from side to side, taking in the surroundings of the new building.

It was Jeff's hope that the Belagants would fit in well into the Tracy household, but he was most worried about their daughter. Kyrano had assured Jeff that Tin-Tin was indeed very sprightly and energetic – to the point of being considered almost pert. Yet it was obvious that the mining disaster had taken a toll on the girl, for she had spoken very little since the family had arrived on the island.

Jeff could understand what was going on, for his own boys had reacted in a similar way immediately after the death of their mother. Even Gordon, who was as wild as Tin-Tin was supposed to be, had not spoken for nearly a week. He wasn't sure how long it would be before the girl came around, but if his sons were any example, it could very well be a while.

There was no more time to worry, however, as the boys were now in the room expecting to be introduced to the strangers that stood before them. Thankfully, Jeff didn't have to begin the awkward introductions, for Virgil's eyes went wide and he pointed a hand directly at Kyrano. The rest of his brothers, who were all in the room, glanced in his direction.

"It's you!" As soon as he said the words, Virgil's cheeks turned a faint shade of pink, and he bent his head ever so slightly in apology. "Sorry."

"It's all right," Kyrano replied politely, in an accented yet fluent English. "It does not surprise me that you are startled."

"You never mentioned this to me," Scott added, sounding slightly hurt that he had – for once – been left out of the loop. "What's this all about?"

"You obviously remember the Belagants from the mine disaster in Malaysia," the older Tracy began, meeting Kyrano's gaze with a polite one of his own. "Well, several things happened during the clean-up, including the two of us touching base again. I was in the area on a quick business trip and caught the end of the trial - which was rather quick considering the outcome of the disaster. Kyrano found me then and expressed his desire to repay us for saving him. I agreed, deciding that fate had played an unfair hand in the ordeal and that he and his family deserved a second chance. I pulled a few strings and agreed to some terms in order to convince the government to let them go." He smiled. "Kyrano doesn't consider it payment of course, but I do."

Gordon's eyes widened in surprise. "Another agent?"

"Close." Jeff almost felt bad that he knew what was going on, while his children had no idea. "Kyrano and his family will be staying with us on a permanent basis, a form of house arrest that the Malaysian government was apparently satisfied with. His wife, Onaha, is a wonderful housekeeper, and Kyrano is trained and extremely experienced in natural biology and geology. They will take care of the house and the yard as a form of payment to us."

Jeff silently counted to ten before continuing, giving the boys time to let it sink it. "I know what you must be thinking, but I feel that we can trust the Belagants with our secret. I've learned the hard way that sometimes you have to work with other people in order to succeed, and I think having them on the island with us will be a blessing. Kyrano's actions in the mine clearly saved the lives of his men, and that speaks more than anything in my books."

"You can trust me and my family to keep your secret," Kyrano put in quietly, in the polite and subdued tone that he always seemed to use when dealing with anyone. "I owe you my life, Mr. Tracy, and to betray you would be unforgivable. You have saved my family."

The four boys looked at each other, silently weighing their options, until – out of nowhere – Gordon laughed, punched his fist in the air, and gave a loud and raucous cheer. "Yes! I don't have to make my bed anymore!"

The other boys laughed, and even the stone-faced Kyrano cracked a small smile.

"Gordon," Jeff replied sternly, trying so hard not to laugh that his cheeks felt as though they were burning. "Onaha still expects you to make your own bed and clean your own room."

"Oh, but Mr. Tracy!" The woman put in suddenly, in a louder and more animated voice than that of her husband. "Do not worry, I am-"

"Not expected to clean up after my children," Jeff decided firmly, knowing it was better to put his foot down from the very beginning then to run the risk of things getting out of hand. "Boys, think of Onaha as your mother – anything that your mother did, Onaha will do. Anything that your mother hated doing, don't even think about making Onaha do it."

"But-"

"That includes making your bed." He gave Gordon a stern look to reinforce the thought. "There is no room for debate."

"Ah fine." Throwing his hands up in the air, Gordon turned and walked back towards the deck. "I've got to go do my laps for the day. If anyone needs me I'll be drowning in the pool." He walked out the door, calling behind him, "Nice meeting you, though!"

Exasperated with his son, Jeff turned towards the Belagants and extended his hands in apology. "I am very sorry about this. Gordon isn't normally like this."

"Yes he is," Virgil mouthed in an articulated enough manner that Jeff caught the motion out of the corner of his eye.

"It is all right!" Onaha laughed and waved an unconcerned hand. "He seems like a nice boy. They all do."

Jeff smiled, inwardly pleased that the Belagants at least seemed comfortable at his home. "Perhaps you'd like to introduce your daughter."

"A good idea." Turning, Kyrano beckoned at the girl that hid behind him. "Tin-Tin, come out and say hello to the Tracys."

Very tentatively, the young girl poked her head around her father's waist, saw the three remaining boys gathered in front of her, then decided that perhaps the world looked better from behind the man.

"Tin-Tin, please come out."

The change in tone was subtle, but Jeff knew enough from being a parent himself that Tin-Tin wouldn't disobey her father twice. Sure enough, the girl sheepishly came out from behind Kyrano and curtseyed politely to the Tracy boys.

"Nice to meet you." Her voice was very sweet sounding, yet even at such a quiet level it spoke of the hidden strength that Kyrano had described to Jeff earlier. "My name is Tin-Tin."

Both Virgil and Scott nodded politely and gave the girl a pair of warm and welcoming smiles. "Good to have you here! I'm Scott."

"I'm Virgil. And yeah, it's always nice to have another person around."

Alan's face, however, crinkled up into a frown, and he declared with some degree of uncertainty, "Tintin. Isn't that the name of a cartoon character?"

Jeff didn't know the answer, and he didn't know if Tin-Tin knew the answer. He did, however, know that she was extremely displeased with Alan's initial welcoming. The girl gave the blond haired boy a foul look, then turned and stormed in the direction of the kitchen. Onaha quickly hurried after her daughter, her face creasing into a deep frown.

"Tin-Tin! Tin-Tin, come back here!"

Jeff was even more displeased with his son. There were some moments that required a certain degree of tact, and Alan seemed to be oblivious even to the existence of the word. "Alan, that is no way to greet a lady."

"But isn't it a cartoon character?" The degree of absolute cluelessness that his son spoke with absolutely astounded Jeff. "From a re-run show?"

"Alan, I'd like to tell you something. I claim to understand very little about women, but I do know that you've somehow managed to cross a line here."

"She'll come back," Kyrano interrupted, glancing back towards the kitchen. "She's not that upset, you know. Just a little shy."

From where he stood, Scott snorted and gave his younger brother a sincerely dirty glare. "You're lucky squirt. You could have been really stupid and told her it was the name of the dog."

"Hey!"

At that moment Onaha returned to the room, her face reflecting on it a certain degree of worry. "She's left the house."

"She'll be all right," Kyrano added quickly, easing Jeff's fears that the girl would hurt herself if she ran into the jungle. "The jungle here is very similar to the one that she grew up in. She will be in no danger. But she might become lost."

An idea struck Jeff at that moment, and he turned to his youngest son with the hopes of enlightening him. "Alan, go find Tin-Tin."

The boy's mouth dropped open, and his face contorted into an even more unhappy expression. "You've gotta be kidding! That could take all day!"

"You caused the problem," Jeff replied tersely, "you can fix it."

"But I didn't do anything to insult her!" Alan gasped in exasperation, throwing his hands up in the air. "Why is it my fault?"

"Someday, Alan, you'll learn about manners and responsibility. But until then," Jeff gestured with his right hand towards the outside door, "you'd better get started."

---

"W-w-w-why do I have to come with?" Fermat complained quietly, as he trudged along behind Alan through the thick underbrush of Tracy Island. The words came out in clusters, every time that Fermat took a breath and had extra oxygen to spare. "I am not built for this type of strenuous exercise!"

Giving a glance over his shoulder briefly, Alan simply shrugged and continued walking. He hadn't asked, more hinted, for Fermat to come along, and it wasn't really his fault that the shorter boy couldn't make the jumps over tree branches that he could. Still, he slowed down just enough that Fermat's face turned to a more general pink shade, a far cry from the violent red that it had been mere moments earlier.

"I can't believe this girl," Alan muttered, reaching a hand to snap off a tree branch that was in his way. "It's not like I told her that she was ugly."

"She's having troubles a-a-a-adjusting," replied Fermat quickly. "I think I would too if the same thing happened to me." He stopped for a moment, then shook his head. "What am I saying? It did happen to me."

"All right, Fermat." Nothing annoyed Alan more than when his friend got off a long tangent about something, and the last thing that he felt like was a lesson on psychology. If he needed that, all he had to do with talk to his father and he was bound to hear a long lecture on human behaviour. "Cool it. Let's just find her and get back to the house." But then, when he finally arrived back, Virgil and Gordon would likely detain him, and revenge would be taken swiftly and painfully.

Suddenly, a prolonged journey into the jungle didn't seem like such a bad idea.

---

Virgil Tracy waited patiently on the couch by the window looking out over the pool, his arms folded across the backrest, underneath his chin. His eyes narrowed every time there was movement outside, whether that of a bird of some form of exotic insect.

"Is he back yet?"

The chestnut haired teenager shook his head, and replied, "No sign of him. Any ideas?"

"Well . . ." Gordon took a long breath, and relaxed deeper into the armchair that he sat in. "We could shave him bald. Or we could just throw him into the pool."

"How about you do nothing?"

Neither brother expected to hear the quiet tones of John Tracy, given that he had only been up in space a few hours earlier. They both turned around where they sat and were startled to see that their brother did indeed stand in the doorway of the room, his uniform undone to the mid chest, revealing a light grey undershirt that was stained with small patches of sweat. Though he had made more trips to the station than either Gordon or Virgil could count on all of their fingers, John always looked worn when he arrived home. No amount of experience could completely remove the physical toll that space flight took on his body.

"John!" A smile blossomed onto Virgil's face at the sight of his brother. "When did you come down?"

"About ten minutes ago."

The comment made little sense to Virgil. "What? I didn't hear the rocket come down."

"Neither did I," Gordon put in, "and you can hear that thing from a mile away."

"I didn't come down on the rocket." The older boy sighed and ran a hand wearily through his matted platinum blond hair. "Brains has being trying to work out some sort of escape capsule for me, just in case something goes wrong up there. So eventually, someone had to ride it down to see what would happen."

Realisation dawning on him, Virgil found himself drastically more interested in what his brother had to say than if he were talking about another routine landing. "So that's where everyone went. Dad and Scott just ran off without telling anyone after they introduced the Belagants. They took the 'Birds with – I thought they were running some sort of exercise with them."

"Are they back yet?" Gordon asked.

John smiled faintly, and pointed out the window. "Gord, they're busy trying to fish the capsule out of the Pacific. At least Dad is. Scott brought me back in Thunderbird One."

"So it worked?" Virgil said, picking up where his brother left off.

"Hardly." The smile on John's face disappeared and a look of worry creased across his forehead. "Systems almost completely failed at forty-thousand feet. Dad snagged the capsule on the way down with Two's grappling system and slowed the descent into the water."

The thought of his brother barrelling uncontrolled towards Earth at several times the speed of sound did not sit well with Virgil. It was a wonder that John didn't look worse, given how he and space flight normally got along. "Shit, John. It's lucky that you weren't hurt."

"Yeah, I know." The older boy shrugged, as if he could do nothing else, and made to leave the room. "I knew it was dangerous. But we needed to test it in a non-emergency situation."

Across the room, Gordon rolled his eyes and added, "It's not like you guys don't have the equipment. So what's Brains' verdict?"

"No go." John sighed deeply, looking more and more as if he wanted to climb back into bed for the day. "It wasn't just the computers – something failed with the main thrusters, and I need to have some form of control coming down in case I hit over land. He said it could take months to redesign the capsule so that the engines at least work, and then another few months to begin to put it together."

"Ah." Another flash of movement caught Virgil's eye, and he absently turned to stare out the window. "Rats, the little bugger isn't back yet."

"What did he do?" Virgil couldn't see his brother, but he was sure that John's mouth was folded into a frown. "Honestly, Virgil, you're the most forgiving of any of us. I didn't think he had the ability to get on your nerves. And yes, I know what's going on. Scott told me about it on the flight back."

John's words struck a bit of a chord, but no more than the dead scorpions in the open piano top had. Virgil was normally the most forgiving and calm of any member of the family – even compared to John, who was quiet but still had a tendency to take things to heart – but there were still things that could push his buttons. Alan just . . . had a talent for pushing those buttons, whether it was with Virgil, the principle at his school, or his father.

With a very evil smile, Virgil turned to John and replied, "He accidentally dumped a bucket of dead insects into the open top of my piano. They're all over the sound board and the strings." Even relieving the moment for his brother was enough to boil Virgil's blood. He honestly didn't care if Alan had meant to do it or not – there were just some things that a person didn't mess with, and Virgil Tracy's piano was one of them.

"Was it an accident?"

"Probably. But I really don't care. Even if I don't toss him into the pool, he's still going to clean the mess up. Carefully. If he ruins the tuning, I'll have to take more drastic measures."

"I'll help you." Gordon raised his eyebrow mischievously, and Virgil was sure his younger brother was once again planning trouble. "I have a few things that I want to get back at the little twerp for myself."

Throwing his hands up in the air, John turned to walk from the room. "Do what you want. But honestly, if it was an accident, cut him a little bit of slack. He has enough trouble as it is without his own family breathing down his neck. If you're just out to bug him today, maybe let him be." With that, the blond astronomer left the room.

"Obviously he's never experienced Alan before," Gordon commented, a hint of sarcasm coming to his voice. "The kid's become a nightmare. Virgil, I haven't gotten kicked out of my school."

Maybe John was right, Virgil thought, as he watched out the window for a sign of his brother's reappearance.

Alan was a handful, but Virgil wondered how much of the trouble he caused was on purpose. With Gordon, one always knew that a prank was intentional. But Alan, whether out of carelessness or apathy, had a habit of causing accidents whenever he was around. Then, when his family retaliated out of frustration, he truly fought back. More often than not, when he was home from school, the youngest Tracy could be found locking horns with his father over some school issue or another.

Maybe it was their fault. But then again, Alan could at least try to get along with his family. It had to go both ways, and if he wanted to act like an outcast most of the time, then that was his prerogative. If he wanted true respect from his family, he had to give it to them in return.

But wasn't love of that sort supposed to be unconditional within family?

"Virgil. Virgil, an alien ate your piano. He's chewing the black notes as we speak."

Gordon's light and teasing tone shook Virgil from his pondering. A part of him had come to the conclusion that Alan's . . . attitude . . . was the fault of the entire family, but the other part of him had decided that Alan had to accept that he was still young and still had a long time to go until he was a grown-up. Because, more than anything, Alan seemed to be jealous of his brothers, of what they had done, and what he hadn't done.

"He's still got time," Virgil muttered, slowly loosing all desire to hunt down and punish his brother. The bugs were just bugs, after all, and with a little elbow grease the piano would be clean again. Alan hadn't even been pert when it had happened – which was a rare occasion, granted – but had instead looked a mild degree apologetic. "I wish he'd just calm down. I think that's what got me mad today. It wasn't the bugs, it's everything he's done up to that point."

"Hmm?" Leaving his chair behind, Gordon sauntered over to his brother and sat down beside him. "What, pondering the meaning of life or something deep like that?"

"Kind of." Sitting and stewing about life wasn't something that Virgil did often, but it tended to happen on occasion when something just didn't settle with him. Alan . . . wasn't settling well with him, simply because there was not much that he could do. For every time that he teased Alan when it wasn't needed, there was a time that Alan did something to him out of youthful arrogance or spite. A good person, a truly pure-hearted person, would put up with the kid –

As pure-hearted as he was, Virgil knew he was no angel, and even he had limits. John was right to some extent, but he had been wrong to assume that Virgil would always put up with Alan. Then again, John had an amazing ability to understand why people acted the way that they did, and though the older boy often times seemed to be saddened by human behaviour, Virgil had not seen him retaliate when he had been wrong in a very long time.

"I wish he'd just grow up." How true those words felt when actually spoken. "Gord, I can't handle him when he's home. I want to be nice to him, but then he always ends up acting like a-"

"Complete and total asshole," finished the redhead, nodding in agreement. "Definitely know what you're getting at." His voice was uncharacteristically quiet, especially considering it was spring break and there was plenty to be excited about. Gordon snorted softly and gazed out the window, his brown eyes reflecting the gentle light that bounced off the pool water. "I can kind of see where he's coming from, though."

Startled, Virgil turned to his brother and replied, "Really?"

"Yeah." The redhead gave another laugh, and rested his chin down on the back of the couch. "It's nice to be able to say that you've done something. Heck, maybe he just wants to be part of the group. Everyone else has done some really impressive things, and he's still stuck learning algebra."

That observation could have come from Virgil's own mouth, yet he was surprised to hear Gordon of all people saying them. "I think you're right, Gord. Dad told me last week that Alan told him he wanted to join IR when he was finished school this summer."

"Betcha Dad told him no."

"Well, yeah, he's hardly old enough. I was surprised that he let me join, and I was even finished school. I guess John was only nineteen when he came on board, though."

"John's in a different category than us, Virg. He had a degree and everything. Real impressive."

Almost certain that there was something wrong, Virgil grabbed Gordon by the shoulder and turned him so that he could look him in the eye. "Okay, Gord, what the hell is up?"

"Nothing." The other boy shrugged, and gave Virgil what appeared to be an honest grin. "I'm . . . never mind. It's nothing.

Whatever 'nothing' was, Gordon obviously wasn't ready to talk about it. But there was something else that Virgil had picked up on when his brother had been speaking. "D'you feel the same way as Alan?"

Gordon's face grew uncertain for a long moment, until he finally shrugged again and shoved Virgil's hand off his shoulder. "Why would I? You guys are good at school and stuff. I'm good at . . . other stuff. Why'd I be jealous?"

There were limits to how far Virgil pushed people. Unlike his father or Scott, who could sometimes be concerned to the point of being arrogant, he knew when to draw the line. "Fair enough. But hey," he smiled as he spoke, "you could kick any of our cans at the breaststroke. I hope you know that."

Gordon turned a shade of red that directly complemented his hair and looked away quickly. "Course I do. That's why I don't bother racing you. Grandma could beat you if she were still alive."

So much went unspoken between the two. Yet, so much had always gone unspoken, as it had never needed to be said. Gordon knew what Virgil meant, and Virgil knew that Gordon understood where he was coming from. Even if he couldn't tag along with him at school, they still had a connection there that would be unbroken over time and distance.

And Virgil knew that Gordon was not just defending Alan, for as soon as the boy reappeared he would be under the mercy of his feisty older brother. No, something deeper had unconsciously been implied by the words. He wasn't sure if it pertained to IR exactly, but it did have something to do with Gordon's apparent lack of a career.

"Besides," added the red-head, "I don't care whether we're supposed to be nice to him or not. He's being an asshole right now, and Dad won't let anyone that immature within ten feet of those ships."

Then, suddenly, a figure appeared between the trees out by the pool. It was tall, too tall to be an animal, and its mop of dirty blond hair stuck out amongst the greenery. Virgil leaned forward on the couch so that he could see better, and his eyes went wide.

"Gord, he's back."

The sentimental moment having disappeared with Alan's emergence, Gordon jumped from the couch and barrelled out the door. "The little bugger, making us wait this long. He's mine."

---

It was just what he had expected. The moment that Alan had stepped from the edge of the foliage he knew he was doomed. Worse than his brothers' revenge, however, was the fact that he had spent nearly two hours trying to find a moody little girl that quite plainly didn't want to be found. Tin-Tin had been in no danger – Alan had seen her jump away from him several times, further into the underbrush, and he knew she was capable of finding her way back on her own.

Yet it didn't make him feel better as Gordon dived down from the stairs, caught Alan by the shoulders, and pulled him roughly towards the water.

"Gord! Get off!" Alan shouted, pulling at his brother's hands with little success. Bit by bit, he was being dragged in the direction of the pool. "Man, calm down!"

"No way," Gordon replied happily, "you are in for an official Gordon Tracy dunking today! Did you actually think you were going to get out of this?"

It was quite obvious that Gordon was having too much fun to even think of calming down. But Alan wasn't unaccustomed to his brother's actions – in fact, most of his childhood had been spent wrestling around with one brother or another. If Gordon wanted to play rough, then Alan would return the favour.

Just as the pair reached the edge of the pool, Alan looped his foot around Gordon's calf and gave as hard a tug as he could. The motion threw the older boy off balance, and with a cry he began to fall towards the water. With a splash, Gordon and Alan went headfirst into the pool, while Virgil sat on the edge of the deck laughing quietly to himself, altogether quite pleased that he had managed to escape getting wet.

Alan and Gordon resurfaced at the same time, Gordon looking pleased that he was once again in the water, Alan furious when he realised that Gordon didn't care that he was wet. It wasn't as if there was anything on him to ruin, but all the same Alan stormed from the water and grabbed a towel from a rack that was kept near the pool.

"It still wasn't my fault!" Alan growled, towelling his hair off enough that it could finish drying in the sunlight. "Fermat wanted the stupid bugs, and I was trying to hurry and get them for him."

"I won't make you clean the piano," Virgil admonished from where he sat, "so I consider this sweet justice. It'll take me forever to wipe mashed scorpions off those strings!"

"Jerks." Throwing the towel in Gordon's face – which did nothing to quench the boy's laughter – Alan stalked back toward the jungle where Fermat was waiting for him.

"I-i-i-i'm sorry," the younger boy admitted, pushing up his glasses absently with a finger. "I should have said something. You were trying to help me out earlier."

"It's not a big deal," Alan muttered, glancing back to see his brothers still laughing at his predicament. "They just love to see me suffer." A thought dawned on him suddenly. "Great, and we still have to find Tin-Tin. This day," he waved his arms in the air in resignation, "just keeps getting better and better!"

"Alan-"

"You know what, Fermat? Tin-Tin's smart. She has the right idea. Who'd want to stay with this family anyway?"

"Alan." Grabbing the older boy by the arm, Fermat tugged Alan around and pointed at the pool. "L-l-l-look!"

What Alan saw absolutely astounded him. There, hanging from a tree directly above the point where Gordon now stood, was Tin-Tin. Her feet, wrapped around a sturdy branch, supported her and left her hands free to dangle a rather large and vicious looking scorpion onto the top of Gordon's head. As quickly as she had appeared, she vanished back into the canopy, leaving Gordon – and Virgil, who was too preoccupied with laughing to notice – with a rather unfriendly looking visitor.

It was Virgil who noticed the insect first. The cessation of laughter was sudden, and the older boy's hand went to his mouth as his eyes widened in shock. "Gordon . . ."

"Yeah?" Looking all the part of a fool, Gordon raised his hand and ruffled his hair as he always did when he came out of the water.

"There's a really big bug on your head."

His eyes narrowed, and Gordon carefully pulled his hand away from his red locks. "How big? As in, hand-sized bug?"

"You might say that."

"What kind?"

Virgil took a deep breath and replied somewhat timidly, "You know those scorpions that are in my piano right now? The dead ones?"

Gordon's face began to pale.

"There's a very angry looking one crawling through your hair right now."

Very, very slowly, Gordon raised a hand again and nervously poked at his head. "Virgil, where is it?"

"More to the left."

Every second Gordon's face lost more and more of its colour, until he was white and literally shaking where he stood. "Shit. Virgil, help me here before it kills me!"

The entire situation, had Alan not thought it so serious, was almost funny. No part of him wanted to see his brother hurt, yet the image of Gordon – so completely scared, almost to the point of wetting his pants – was hilarious.

Virgil, meanwhile, had quickly ran over and, with a long pool stick, was trying to knock the bug off Gordon's head. "Hold still, Gord! I'm gonna hit you with it if you don't."

"Just get it off," the other boy moaned, swaying from side to side in spite of his best efforts. "This thing must be poisonous enough to melt my skin or something!"

Giving another swipe with the pole, Virgil grunted in satisfaction as the metal connected with the bug, sending it flying far into the bush. He dropped the stick to the pool deck and let out a long and drawn out breath. "Geeze. You are so lucky that I noticed it."

"How the hell did it get there?" Still seemingly uncertain that the bug was in fact gone, Gordon ran his fingers through his hair over and over again, feeling every inch of scalp where the scorpion could be hiding.

Virgil shrugged, then looked over at the tree that Gordon had been standing under. "I don't know, maybe it fell from the leaves."

From their positions in the bush, Alan and Fermat traded amused glances. "They're never going to figure this out," Alan snickered, as Gordon and Virgil quickly – and with a large amount of paranoia, he saw – made their way towards the house. The two disappeared inside, giving Alan the cue necessary to relax.

"T-t-t-there was no danger," Fermat responded quietly.

"What? Weren't those the same scorpions that you had in the box?"

"They're not dangerous to humans," answered a voice, a sweet and distinctly female voice, from behind the two boys. "Their bite is only strong enough to kill small animals. A person might become sick, but they would never die."

Alan spun around, not really surprised to find Tin-Tin Belagant standing behind him, all uncertainty gone from her face, leaving behind a lot of spunk and just a touch of superiority. "Why the hell'd you do that?"

The girl shrugged and promptly sat down on the nearest tree trunk. For all Alan could tell, she looked as though she already knew the jungle on an intimate level.

"I hate people that are arrogant." The faintest trace of a grimace crossed her lips, interrupting her playful smile for only a moment. "My Dad's boss was arrogant, and look what happened. I'm stuck here with people like you."

Completely ready to punch Tin-Tin, girl or not, Alan managed to bury his irritation inside of him. Instead, he returned her playful grin and replied, "You know, if you actually looked like a girl, I might have been worried."

Standing up with explosive force, Tin-Tin glared back at him and spat, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Exactly what it sounds like." Grinning all the while, like a man who had won a million-dollar jackpot, Alan began to walk back towards the complex. Fermat followed behind him, smart enough – and knowledgeable enough of his friend's past history and attitude – to stay completely out of the conversation.

"Alan Tracy!"

"Oh!" Alan pretended to be startled though in fact he was slightly surprised that she knew his name. "That's impressive, considering that we were never formally introduced."

"My dad," Tin-Tin replied, catching up quickly with Alan so that she could glare up at him from his side, "told me about your family before we even came here. And your dad was at least polite enough to give him that much information."

"Really."

"He never told me that he had an alien as a son, though."

"Then why'd you dump the scorpion on Gordon? Scared to do it to me?"

"If," the girl spat back, "I'd known that your attitude was this bad, I would have dumped it on you instead. I can't believe that I ever felt sorry for you." With a flip of her hair, Tin-Tin ran towards the house.

"Tin-Tin was the name of the dog!" Alan yelled after her, immediately regretting it as she turned around to glare at him again.

"Good for it – it's a nice name." Tossing the boy one last glare, she slammed the door behind her.

Fermat and Alan stood silent for several moments, until the brown haired boy shrugged and offered, "Maybe she's still adjusting."

Maybe, Alan thought, but more than likely . . . that was the way she was. High-spirited, rebellious to those whom she disliked . . . she was a lot like him. And she had nearly scared the pants off of Gordon, which was more than enough reason for Alan to like her.

"Nah." Banishing the thought immediately, Alan turned to Fermat and decided, "I am sick of this day. Let's just go in, grab supper, and get out of here."

---

Tin-Tin absently poked at the food on her plate, trying to avoid eye contact with those around the table. The vegetables were beginning to look like little more than mush, but she wasn't hungry enough to actually eat anything. She had been on the island one day, and already she had managed to do something . . . very irresponsible.

It was not in her nature to behave badly, but Tin-Tin was sick and tired of being pushed around by those who were arrogant. What should have been aimed at her father's boss had instead been aimed at Gordon – and Alan, who had witnessed the event, was sure to rat on her as soon as the topic was brought up. She deserved it, of course, having been completely out of line, but the last thing that she wanted was to be disciplined her first night on the island.

"Tin-Tin, dear, eat your supper," Onaha whispered quietly, placing a hand on her daughter's shoulder. "Do you feel well?"

"It's nothing, Mom, just a stomach-ache."

Across the table, the two older Tracy boys were loudly discussing their latest rescue operation. Scott animatedly waved his hands in the air, and Virgil occasionally made a humorous remark about how his brother talked better than he flew. As long as that conversation kept going, Tin-Tin thought she might escape from dinner unscathed.

But it wasn't meant to be. Karma was karma, her father always said.

"Scott, just shut up for a moment and listen to what happened to Gordon."

"Okay fine, Virgil. Fire away."

Keep a straight face; that was the key to remaining completely anonymous.

"The biggest scorpion I've ever seen somehow managed to get tangled up in his hair!"

"Come on Virg, don't act like it was so funny."

"A scorpion?" Mr. Tracy arched an eyebrow and failed to hold back a smile. "Gordon, how did you manage that?"

"It fell out of the tree!" The redhead's face was animated with the shock of the memory. "It must have! I swear, one moment I was standing by the pool, the next minute Virgil was trying to knock my head off with a stupid pool stick!"

"Next time you can get rid of the bug on your own, then."

"I didn't mean it like that, Virg."

As the rest of the people at the table laughed at the two boys' bantering, Tin-Tin felt a distinct pit forming in her stomach – a pit of impending doom.

"What were you doing out at the pool, anyway?" The words came from John, the soft-spoken blond who apparently was rarely home due to his shifts up on the International Rescue space station. Tin-Tin thought him a bit strange, really, when compared to his brothers. For every bit of cockiness or arrogance that they possessed – which wasn't really too much, she discovered, when she thought about the matter much later – he seemed to make up for it with his respectful and apologetic manner.

He also had, quite accidentally, brought up the very topic that could lead to her punishment.

"Uh, well," Gordon stammered, turning to look ever so slightly at his brother. "We were just . . ."

"Looking at the scenery?" John snorted and gave his brothers a shrewd stare. "How was the water? Warm enough?"

"Sure," the redhead replied uncertainly, quite obviously fishing around for some sort of way to change the subject. "How was your shower?"

Tin-Tin felt a pair of eyes fall onto her face, and she caught, from the corner of her eye, the casual glance of Alan Tracy. No words left his mouth, but the expression in his gaze was enough for her to see what he was thinking.

"Go ahead, tell them."

And it occurred to her that she also kept a secret, for she had seen Alan tossed into the pool by his brother. Perhaps, just perhaps, Alan didn't want to trade his brother's punishment with the entire family discovering that he had been beat up on. Maybe it was a matter of pride, even. Tin-Tin didn't know for sure, but she expected that she would eventually find out more in the coming time on island.

"Karma." The word barely escaped her mouth, so as not to be heard or seen except by Alan Tracy, who raised his eyebrows in confusion at the barely discernible word. She returned his gaze with a cool one of her own, taking subtle pleasure as his eyes narrowed in response to her challenge.

Go on, Alan. Tell them what you saw.

"What do you mean, those kind aren't deadly?" Gordon's voice exploded out from the table. Standing up and banging his fists onto the surface, he glared in the direction of the scientist, James 'Brains' Wilson. "I thought all the bugs on this island were deadly!"

Another round of laughter ensued, instigated mostly by Virgil. "How was I supposed to know? If I hadn't done that and it had been dangerous, you would have killed me!"

"No I wouldn't have," growled the redhead, "I would have been dead!"

And still Alan sat silently, laughing at his brother but making no move to reveal to the rest of them exactly how the scorpion had fallen into Gordon's hair. He sat the entire rest of the meal that way, making occasional conversation only when asked, keeping his eyes directly on Tin-Tin the rest of the time.

Tin-Tin, too pleased to want to cause Alan more trouble, also let the issue fall silent, though she too kept her eyes on the boy, in case he made a move before she could. That was another of the proverbs that her father had taught her: know your enemy.

Well, she planned one way or another on getting to know her enemy quite well. If she was going to be living on a tropical island with a bunch of men, she was going to have to find something to do. And some part of her, a part that she very much wanted to punch, wondered if Alan might be a better companion than not. Sure, he was irritating and immature even more than the rest of his brothers were, but he was her age and was in the same predicament that she was in. He seemed out of place where he was, at odds with his environment. Maybe he even felt without a home just as she did.

Which was all the more reason to avoid him completely. Shaking her head, Tin-Tin wondered what she was coming to. The thought of tagging along behind Alan made her skin crawl – being in his presence was irritating enough in itself, so why did she want to spend even more time with him?

"So, Alan, Gordon, are you ready to go back to school? How about you, Fermat?"

Having been home schooled for her entire life, Tin-Tin had not expected to hear those words come from the mouth of her benefactor. It didn't matter, though – maybe she didn't need Alan's company after all. He could run off for all she cared; she'd find something to do on her own. There was the entire island to explore, and of course there was always the chance to speak more to Mr. Tracy himself, to try to get to know better the man who had so willingly taken in her family. There were the other boys as well, the mature ones that were already a part of International Rescue.

Alan Tracy? What a joke; she didn't need him.

---

John did not normally make it his business to intrude on the affairs of others. He liked his privacy and expected others to respect it, just as he held himself to respecting the privacy of those other people. He considered himself to be something of an observer, a man who sat on the top of the mountain and watched everyone around him and understood why they acted the way that they did, but who could not join them for lack of his own desire to.

But special circumstances called for special actions, and it wasn't every day that the Tracy family grew in size on a permanent basis. Even if he wouldn't be down on the island most of the time, he still hated to see things start off on such rocky ground. Tin-Tin and Alan had tried to be subtle, but few things escaped John's keen eye, including venomous and daring glances across the dinner table.

He found Tin-Tin where he expected to find her - on the balcony of the second story of the home, gazing out across the jungle to the glimmering ocean beyond. The sun, as it always seemed to be when he was home, was beginning to set. The transition set the water ablaze, leaving trails of amber and topaz in the gently rolling wake, and a light wind shifted the leaves in the trees below.

The young girl's hair, pulled back into a complimentary ponytail, drifted about ever so slightly in the breeze. Her eyes were focused on some distant point on the horizon, lost in the direction of her homeland.

Approaching her carefully so as not to startle her, John leaned his elbows against the chest high railing and joined her in her daydream. It was several moments before Tin-Tin even noticed his approach; when she did, it was with an expression of much incredulity and surprise.

"Just wait until the sun sets completely," John told her, "the stars are as nice here as they are from where you came from."

He obviously had a way to go in terms of developing a natural sense of tact – this lack of inert social know-how was one of the reasons that John typically was quiet around strangers – for Tin-Tin passed him a neutral look, then continued to gaze out at the sea.

"I'm sure they are."

Not ready to give up after only one sentence, John decided to try again. "You speak English exceptionally well, better so than most people from your country. Did your father teach you?"

"Of course," was all she offered at first, her voice cold, suggesting that the topic should be dropped. "He thought it would be important, so I was taught English and Malay from almost birth." She turned back to the water and refused to meet his gaze again. "Most people are, from where I come from. It's important, you know. We do a lot of business with foreigners. I've just had more practice."

Understanding her situation from many moments of personal experience, John simply nodded and stood quietly by her side. He was rewarded after several long moments, when Tin-Tin – obviously perplexed at John's silent vigil – turned to look at him once again.

"Is there something that you need?"

Even after hearing her speak three times, John still found himself amazed at the poise and level of maturity that the girl displayed. She was obviously still quite young, and with that youth came an inherent immaturity when dealing with adults, but her overall intellect seemed to be on a level more equal with his own. Of course, John admitted silently, she wasn't that much older than he had been when his mother had died. They both had been forced – still were being forced, in the girl's case – to grow up when they were not old enough to fully understand why.

"I just wanted to make sure that you were okay," he offered quietly, suddenly feeling very exposed and vulnerable even to a person of Tin-Tin's age. If he said the wrong thing it was very likely that she would close up and speak no more – and that was something that John did not want to happen. "You looked a little upset at dinner." Before she could jump in, he sighed and held up a hand apologetically. "I'm sorry. I understand why you would be upset, and you have every right to be. I've never seen a person be happy in such a drastic period of upheaval."

Instead of shutting him out, Tin-Tin turned a curious eye in his direction and replied, "I guess you see a lot of that where you work."

That small insight into his life impressed John more than anything had in a long time. That Tin-Tin, at such a young age, was able to look past her own situation to see the bigger picture was remarkable. Then again, she had struck him from the outset as being incredibly poised. The little bit of wisdom had simply confirmed his initial impression – and it signified that she was, perhaps, willing to talk.

"I deal with a lot of people like you and your father," he admitted, thinking back to the rescue itself and how harrowing an experience it had been. "People that have walked away from the brink of death; people that have lost their homes; people that have lost everything in their life. Half the time they aren't logical. Most of the time they're in a state of shock in some form or another, and nothing more can ever be expected from them. To see anything, any small hint of reason from a mind that has been that uprooted, tells me that that person is going to be okay in the end. Those people that stay calm and weather the storm, well . . . I know I don't have to worry about them."

The girl nodded ever so slightly, and appeared to mull over his comments in her mind. "I don't mind this island," Tin-Tin finally responded, her voice subdued, "it's a lot like home. It's just that . . ."

"You miss home."

She nodded, pursing her lips ever so slightly as she did. "I'm so angry at my father's partner, the other man that had owned the mine. If he'd just listened to what Dad had to say . . . I'm still angry with him."

"That's understandable. People act selfishly and bad things happen in return." John sighed, rubbing his chin absently with his hand. "God knows that they do. Sometimes a trainload of people die just to give one man a little extra income in his pocket."

Tin-Tin regarded him with a curious expression, her eyes finally settling somewhere between apologetic and saddened. "I didn't like him that much anyway. I think maybe it's justice that he died." She shook her head, immediately cringing at her own words. "That sounds so horrible."

"Justice doesn't make sense." How much did he understand that, as a man who weighed people's lives as his daily occupation? "Maybe he did deserve to die. Or, maybe he deserved to be punished in some other way." Shaking his own head at his contradiction, John laughed quietly and looked up into the sky, in the direction where Thunderbird Five lay. "I don't know if anyone deserves to die. Death just seems to happen, whether we like it or not. Most of the time you can't control who lives and who dies . . . you just have to learn to live with it."

A startled expression crossed the girl's face. "But I thought your goal was to save people."

"Of course. Indiscriminately, randomly, without willingly picking who will live or who will die. I don't see the faces of the people who I deal with. I don't know what they look like. Sometimes I don't even know what gender they are. But death . . ." He rubbed his face wearily. "It just happens. It's a part of fate, just like the part of fate that sometimes places you in a position that you don't want to be in."

"It's like karma," Tin-Tin whispered in reply, a look of realisation dawning on her face. "So maybe . . . maybe we weren't punished. We escaped, and that's what matters. We're still alive."

"That would be a good way to look at it. You're obviously good people, or my dad would never have taken the time out to help you." He smiled at her startled expression. "Did you think Malaysia would willingly let you go? Dad had to pull a lot of strings for this to happen. I'm not sure what he did . . . actually, I don't think I want to know. Dad's been known to go above the call of duty and do something odd when he feels compelled to do so. I guess he decided that it was up to him to finish saving you if no one else was going to. He hates to see bad things happen to good people." He sighed. "You can take him away from IR, but you can't IR out of him . . ."

Tin-tin finally returned his smile, a goofy lopsided grin that brought a spark of spunk to her face that John had yet to see. "We could have ended up at a worse place than this island."

A feeling of immense satisfaction washed through John when he heard her words, for he knew that he had finally accomplished what he had set out to do in the first place. His intent had not been to forcefully make her enjoy her stay on the island – it had been to allow her to see for herself what the future held, as well as what could be forgotten from the past.

He counted to ten before moving, giving Tin-Tin enough time to completely settle her thoughts. Then, John slapped the railing contentedly with his hand and turned to leave. On his way back into the home, he stopped, tilted his head ever so slightly, and offered, "Good luck."

He never heard Tin-Tin's response, and he had no desire to. The comment had been haphazard enough, spoken with so little consideration, that John was worried that he would offend her and place her back where she had started before he had spoken to her. Still, it had been generic enough that it could be taken with an innocent grain of salt.

Or perhaps, just perhaps, Tin-Tin would be extremely astute once again and would see completely through his poor attempt at a joke. It would give her food for thought, at least until she saw Alan again – then she would be forced to consider John's words for what they were.

"Good luck," John laughed to himself as he closed the door to the home gently behind him. "Alan's not a bad kid. Give him a chance." It was too bad that Tin-Tin couldn't hear the words, but John could not bring himself to – and did not think it necessary to – say them aloud to the girl. At least his awkward attempts at conversation had not done any real damage. He would leave that to his other brothers, who more often than not were blunt rather than tactful.

On his way up the stairs, John passed by Alan, who seemed to be in a hurry to get somewhere. Not wanting to meddle in his brother's life anymore, John simply shrugged and made his way wearily to his room. Suddenly, any remaining adrenaline left his body, and he felt a large urge to crawl up on his old bed and go to sleep. He had had enough problems of his own to sufficiently exhaust his own reserves, and if he was supposed to be on call the next day in case of an emergency –

It was time to give into nature.

Pushing the door to Scott's room open, he peeked inside, saw only empty space, then entered and closed the door behind him. With luck he would be able to sleep at least a few hours without being disturbed. Life on the space station meant that he was accustomed to only five or six hours of sleep a night. Back on the island, where things were not as hectic and urgent, he might actually be able to feel rested in the morning.

"What luxury." Grinning, John set about to finding himself a pair of sleep clothes that he could use. The thought of a full night's sleep was very enticing, and he intended to partake in the activity as soon as he could crawl under the sheets.

---

Scott Tracy was not really surprised to open the door to his room and see his brother curled up in the sheets of the extra bed. The younger man had not been at the home very much in the past year, but when he had he had always insisted on bedding in the room that had been partially his for almost his entire life. Whether out of nostalgia, or something even deeper, John didn't seem impressed with the concept of sleeping on the couch.

Making sure not to wake his brother, Scott went about getting ready as quickly as he could. He changed in the washroom so as not to make extra noise, and when he was finally ready to settle in for the night, only then did he re-enter the room. Even with the lights off, Scott had no trouble finding his bed. He was halfway crawled in, with the sheets nicely pulled up to his chin, when a soft voice chirped up.

"Why do you go to bed so late when you have the option of going to sleep early?"

Startled, Scott had to stop himself from pulling the sheets out from his bed in surprise. "Cripes, John, you could give a guy a little notice." He couldn't see his brother, but the quiet and lilting laugh signalled to Scott that John was reasonably amused with his antics. "How'd you know what I did, anyway?"

"I operate in the dark a lot. Think about it. I don't have the luxury of seeing what people are doing. I just know, from your voice, that you probably either peed the bed or pulled the sheets right out from under the mattress."

A grin escaped onto Scott's lips, and he let himself relax onto the mattress, his hands resting between his head and the pillow. "You don't know how good it is to have you home." An awkward silence filled the air, and Scott immediately wondered if he'd said something wrong.

Eventually, though, John sighed and responded with a certain degree of reserve. "I'm glad."

The words were very soft, almost inaudible, and Scott had to strain to hear them. "I know . . . that we don't always act like we miss you, but we do. Things are always less strained when you're around."

"I don't do that much."

"You don't have to, John. You know that. It's just that . . . when you're up there, floating around in the void, the rest of us don't have you to keep us in check."

John snorted. "When have you ever needed me to keep you in check?"

"Since always." And it was true. The younger man radiated a certain aura of resilience about him, a kind of polite acceptance that was catching. "Listen, don't expect me to go all sentimental right now. I don't think I need to be telling you this. You should already know it."

"I guess."

The obvious lack of enthusiasm in his brother's voice worried Scott, for John – except during the worst of times – was always optimistic. "John, listen, if this is about the pod-"

"No."

"Then if it's-"

"It's about me," the younger man blurted out suddenly, catching Scott completely off guard.

Knowing that he would likely get little sleep until he put his mind to ease, Scott pushed himself upright in bed and prepared for what looked to be a long night of conversation. It wasn't the first time that he had sat up with John, but it had been the most recent one after a break of nearly several years. "What about you?"

When John spoke next, it was in a louder and less controlled voice. "Scott, I don't know what to think anymore. I thought I had everything worked out, all balanced so that I wouldn't go insane up there."

Ah, Scott thought, so it was about the space station. "What did you have worked out, John?"

"I . . . oh," the sound of banging could be heard against the bedside. "I don't even know how to explain this."

"Well, when did this start?"

"I was fine when I went to bed. Really. Then you said about how good it was to have me home, and it hit me again like it does every time that I'm back here on the island."

A small amount of frustration surfaced in Scott's chest, and he tried to push back his growing irritation at John's uncertainty. "John, I can't help you if you don't tell me what's wrong."

"Scott . . ."

"Just try, John. I don't care if you make no sense at all, just try and explain it to me."

"Okay." There was silence for a long moment, then John continued. "Okay. When I'm up on the space station, it is . . . the greatest feeling in the world. It's so quiet, Scott. There's no one else up there to bother me. I can do what I want, when I want. And I can do the things that I like to do. It's very fulfilling."

"Sounds okay so far."

"And then, I get back home, and I realise how much I missed it down here. The island, being around all of you – and I remember how much I enjoyed talking to you when I was up on duty. And then I start to wonder . . . what the hell is wrong with me? I can't feel that way about both, constantly changing what feels like home in my mind. It can't be right, Scott."

"Why not?"

"What?"

"Why not?" Scott repeated emphatically, leaning his head against the side-wall of the room so as not to begin to fall asleep. "John, you are in the weirdest of situations. How do you know what is right? What you have going for you seems to work, so why change it?"

"I don't know." John sighed softly. "It just . . . it's almost as if I don't care about one or the other when I'm away from it. When I'm up in space . . . I don't want to come down. I don't think I even care about my family sometimes. I tried to stop that from happening from the very beginning, but it still does sometimes. I can't stop it."

Rolling his eyes, Scott laughed and responded, "John, I'm sure you care about us. It's just that you can focus your mind on other things as well. If something were to happen to us, would you care?"

"Of course!" John gasped immediately. He sounded very shocked that Scott had even suggested such a thing. "I . . . I guess you're right. It's just-"

"Don't try and be normal," Scott explained slowly, with just a hint of lightness to his tone. "We've been through this before, remember?"

"I-"

"Enjoy your time down here when you have it, and stop feeling so guilty about enjoying your work up in space. There will be times when you don't think about us, and that won't hurt me, because I know that you still care about this family. Cripes, John, you of all people must care about this family. But you also have a right to care about something else as well."

"I guess." Scott's brother chuckled quietly, and the bed creaked as he rolled over on the mattress. "I was just worried that I would . . . forget you guys, or something like that."

"Bull. John, maybe you're a bit quirky with some things, but you're not inhuman. You have a nice balance working for you – why would you want to screw it up? Just keep trusting in yourself. Hell, you've been doing it this long and you've survived. You can't be that wrong."

"That's what I thought you would say."

Silence.

"Hey, Scott?"

"Yeah?" The words were so familiar, having being spoken so many times before, that Scott barely considered them before they left his lips.

"Thanks."

"No problem. Now go to sleep. We both have to be up tomorrow morning. IR doesn't grind to a halt just because the two of us want to sleep in."

Yawning, John laughed again. "Right. Good-night."

"Yeah, you too."

Several more seconds passed, during which Scott remained upright with no intention of crawling in. If he knew his brother, and he liked to think that he did, then John wasn't quite finished. John's bouts of concern generally didn't focus on just himself, and Scott was interested to hear what else was on his brother's mind.

He wasn't surprised, then, when John sighed and said, "Scott . . ."

"Hmmm?"

"I think Alan had a little tiff with Gord and Virg this afternoon."

That really didn't surprise Scott either. Enough hints had been dropped at the dinner table that he thought something might have gone on. John's own pointed remarks to his brothers had spoken volumes. "Yeah, I kind of figured that."

"Sometimes I wonder about them, Scott. I really do."

Scott snorted. "You've just got too much time on your hands, John. You think too much."

"Probably. I guess it's normal what they're doing. It's part of growing up. Alan wants to be part of the group-"

"You'd never be able to tell, the way he acts sometimes."

"And Gord doesn't want him to be."

"I thought you said Virgil was involved today?"

John gave another sigh. "Yeah, but I really couldn't blame him. Alan made a mistake. Virgil realized that after the fact. I think he's sorry about it. But Gord . . . it's like he's got something against Alan. And they used to get along so well when we were younger . . ."

"Times change," Scott said simply. "People change."

"But they're our brothers, Scott. I guess . . . it just surprises me that there can be so much animosity between them. They're really not that different. I wish they could see that. Gordon harps on about Alan goofing off in school, then he screws around and acts goofy all the time when he's supposed to be serious. It's like two sides of the same coin."

"Well Johnny, I guess they haven't figured out what they're missing." Scott smiled at the darkness. "Who knows, maybe Tin-Tin will do Alan some good. As for Gordon, I don't know what we could do to change him. Sometimes people get along, sometimes they don't. He'll come around eventually. I don't know what will make it happen, but something will."

"I hope so."

I know it will. Scott didn't know what it would take to bring his two youngest brothers to a form of reconciliation, but he knew that they had a lot of growing up to do before it would ever happen. "They'll both get a good knock on the head, John, and then they'll figure out what they're doing wrong. Everyone gets some sense smacked into them eventually."

"Yeah." The other man laughed quietly, a yawn seeping into his voice. "Yeah, I know what that's all about. Guess you're right, Scott. What's the plan of action, then?"

"All thrusters full forward." Settling back down into his bed, Scott turned his head in John's direction one last time. "Keep the course steady."

"Right. I copy that," John droned flatly, his voice dropping off. "All head full."

"F.A.B, John. Now this time go to sleep, or I'll have to knock some more sense into you."

A long and sudden snore was the younger man's response.

How he had missed talking with John the past few months, Scott realised as he rolled over with the intent of finally going to sleep. Even if it were in a serious manner, discussing whatever it was that was making his brother hurt, it was at least something. And it meant a lot to him that – after so many years – John still came to him for advice. Given how much he dealt with other people over the radio, and how deeply he understood human behaviour, it was reassuring to know that his brother was indeed still human.

With that thought in his mind, Scott smiled and drifted off to sleep. Morning would be there soon enough, but until then he would make the most of the night.

---

It didn't particularly surprise Alan to come downstairs for breakfast, only to find the house abandoned save for the Belagants. Onaha happily directed him towards the kitchen, where he found a hastily scribbled note on the eating table.

Alan,

Rescue call came in at seven, so we're all off somewhere in China by the time that you read this. Onaha has breakfast made, and if you need anyone Brains is in the lab. Gordon's out on the far beach doing some diving, but he won't be back until later.

Be back soon. F.A.B.

John

Disgusted, Alan crumpled the note up and tossed it into the garbage can. A rescue call had come – during holidays, too! – and they hadn't even told him. He supposed that Gordon was in the same situation, but his brother didn't seem to have the same passion for wanting to join the team that he did. Gordon enjoyed talking with his brothers about the missions, and often times put in his opinion on various issues, but he seemed more devoted to his swimming team that to any thought of becoming a Thunderbird.

"Mr. Tracy said they would be back later," Onaha called from the cooking area, where she busily whipped up a mess of hash browns and scrambled eggs. "Your brother wanted you to know that if you really need help, you can call him over the communications network."

Nodding, Alan sat himself down at the table and propped his chin up on his hands. Thankfully, there was nothing intrusive about Onaha's presence. In fact, she seemed to blend right into the atmosphere of the home, even granting it a feeling of motherhood that had been absent for a very long time. It would take a little getting used to, but even after one day he already knew that he would adjust.

That feeling was ruined the moment that Tin-Tin stepped into the room, her face bright and awake after a long night's sleep.

"Good morning, Tin-Tin!" Onaha called to her daughter, to which Tin-Tin laughed and hopped the rest of the way down the stairwell.

"Good morning, Mom!" She quickly sprinted to the table, grabbed a chair, and noticed with a start that someone was already sitting there.

Alan shrugged in greeting and continued to stare down at the tabletop. He had no intention of making eye contact with her at all. In fact, if he could help it, he planned on eating his entire breakfast while staring at his fork.

There was a bang of a pot, and a sigh came drifting from Onaha. "No food in this house! How does Mr. Tracy feed you?" From the corner of his eye, Alan could see the woman throw her hands up in the air in exasperation. "Tin-Tin, if your father comes looking for me, I will be outside trying to find some herbs to put in with the meal."

"Okay, Mom. I'll tell him." As soon as her mother left the room, Tin-Tin turned and gave Alan the most intense glare that she could muster.

It was very difficult to keep staring at the plate, especially when a girl like Tin-Tin was giving Alan's head a thorough boring in. Finally, the awkwardness of the moment had the better of him, and he returned the foul glare to its distributor. "What's your problem?"

Very slowly, glaring all the while, Tin-Tin replied, "Why didn't you tell?"

"Tell what?" Alan groaned in exasperation, only to remember what she was talking about. With a grimace, he added, "Oh, that. Well, now you owe me one. That's better than telling my dad any day."

"Right." A very sweet and evil looking smile tweaked at her lips. "So that makes us even, then."

Staring at her for a long moment, Alan felt a certain amount of anger building within him. She had a very good point, and by the fact that she already was aware of it . . . there was no way that he was going to get out of the situation on top.

"Fine, we're even."

"Fine."

The two glanced down at the empty dinner plates, and Alan wished that Onaha would return and finish off the morning meal. "So, what's your mom looking for?"

"Edible plants," Tin-Tin replied somewhat hesitantly, as if startled that Alan had asked her a genuine question. "The vegetation here is very similar to back home. A lot of the plants can be used to give food some extra flavour with little effort."

There was one other thing that had been bothering him, something he had been meaning to ask when the time was right. "So, where did you learn to climb trees like that?"

Every so slightly, as almost not to be noticed, a mild blush appeared on the girl's cheeks. "Practice. We practically lived in the jungle most of the time."

"Yeah. I'm stuck at school most of the time. But I wish I was here."

Somehow the moment became even more awkward, and Alan found himself looking at his plate again. It was odd, how the conversation had begun on such a harsh note, and how it was ending on such a . . . confused one.

"You don't like school?" Tin-Tin's voice was quiet. "Why does your dad make you go, then? Can't you be home schooled?"

"He doesn't have time." The words were bitterer than Alan would have liked, but he couldn't really disguise the truth of the matter. "Look, he can't even be here for breakfast on the few days that I'm actually at home. Maybe if he'd just let me come with him . . ."

Oddly enough, Tin-Tin said nothing as the comment spilled from his mouth. He worried that she would pick at him the same way that his brother's did, but instead she simply nodded.

"My mom and dad are always here. I guess I'm lucky."

Before Alan could respond, the door to the kitchen banged open, and Onaha came tromping back in, carrying in her arms a large assortment of plants and shrub branches. "Tin-Tin, dear, I found them!" The older woman dropped her load on the counter, then turned to her daughter. "Have you two been talking?" Her mouth widened in excitement. "That is wonderful, Tin-Tin! I will have to tell Mr. Tracy when he comes back – he was very worried about both of you!"

On instinct, Alan's expression returned to one of sullen irritation, and he retorted, "Are you implying that we're friends?"

"Hardly!" Tin-Tin added, returning Alan's expression ten-fold. "Mom, you can tell Mr. Tracy that his son needs to learn to behave."

"What!"

Raising one eyebrow, Onaha simply smiled and replied, "Don't worry, Tin-Tin, I will make sure that I tell him."

Fuming, Alan banged his fist on the table, his expression daring the girl to say anything else.

She didn't, however, but simply smiled that knowing smile back at him, as if to say, "Want to play again?"

He had three more days back on the island, until he and Fermat had to leave back to the mainland for school. Three more days in which he could prove his superiority to the girl that was smiling so sickeningly at him.

All right, he thought smugly, bring it own. "So, Tin-Tin, how about I show you around the island today?"

Her shocked expression was more than enough payment for having to say the words in the first place. "What?"

"Fermat and I can show you the place. You know, where to find stuff, where to hide when your brothers are trying to kill you." Alan was somewhat disappointed – and more than a little confused – when, instead of frowning, her lips arched into what seemed to be a genuine smile.

"Sure, if you want."

No! screamed Alan's mind, wanting to take back the words as soon as he saw the emotions playing across her face. That's not what I meant! "It's not like we're friends," the blond blurted out, putting emphasis on the word 'not'. "You know, it's just like a favour because you have to live here now."

"Sure," Tin-Tin repeated, her face still radiating happiness. "I understand."

Somehow, Alan thought as he finally gave in and smiled somewhat insecurely himself, he didn't think she did.

---

"Where is everyone?"

Jeff had just arrived back at the home – having left the shutting down of the Thunderbirds to his sons – and was surprised to see no one at all. He had left Onaha, Kyrano and Brains in charge, yet none of them were to be seen.

The mystery was solved when he poked his head through the door leading to the pool and found the three adults seated on pool chairs around the deck. The focus of the attention was a mesmerising blur in the water, travelling from one end of the pool to the other so fast that Jeff could barely believe his eyes. It had been a while since he had truly watched Gordon swim, but he had never imagined that the boy could be so fast.

The shape slammed into the wall, and Gordon brought his head above the water so that droplets of moisture ran down his hair and into his eyes. "How'd I do?"

"F-f-f-f-fifteen seconds," Brains finally stuttered, checking carefully a stopwatch that he held in his right hand. "A-a-a-approximately."

"Dammit." Without second thought, the redhead dived back under the water and resumed his laps.

Surprised and impressed with his son's tenacity, Jeff quickly crossed the rest of the distance to the pool until he stood beside Brains' chair. "That's fast, isn't it?"

The engineer jumped several feet in the air – much to the amusement of the Belagants – and came down hard on the plastic seat. "Mr. Tracy, I'm sorry, I should have been waiting, only John called in and said that you wouldn't-"

"It's all right, Brains," laughed Jeff, completely unconcerned. "John was right, things went smoothly and there was no need for you to help them close down. That's why I'm here, actually. There's not much to do."

In the pool, Gordon continued to swim lap after lap, neither slowing nor apparently tiring as he worked.

"How long has he been at it?"

"A few hours," Kyrano replied, quietly interrupting the conversation. "He came back from diving and asked if one of us would time him. Since we had nothing pressing to do, we thought we would watch."

"He's a skilled swimmer," put in Onaha, her voice loud and joyful. "As good as any boy that I've ever seen, and I have seen quite a few in my time."

As much as Jeff wanted to stop and talk about his son some more, thoughts of another of his children pressed at the back of his mind. "Where's Alan?"

"Oh!" Onaha laughed and clapped her hands together. "He's off with Tin-Tin and Fermat. Alan offered to show her around the island."

That thought was enough to knock Jeff backwards a few steps. "Alan? Offered to show her? But I thought . . ." He didn't even bother to finish his sentence, for the look on Onaha's face showed plainly that her statement was true.

Not for the first time in his life, Jeff Tracy decided that children were a mystery more than anything else, a mystery that he had yet to decipher. Only the night before Alan acted as though he wanted to kill Tin-Tin – why the sudden turnaround had happened, Jeff had no idea. A large part of him did not care, however, because it meant that there might be some hope for his son getting along with the girl after all.

"I won't pretend to understand them," he muttered to know one in particular, as the four watched Gordon finally come up for air again. But it was good to know that the Tracy family had not been harmed in any way by the addition of the three Belagants. In fact, a small glimmer of hope suggested that it might be strengthened just as it had when Brains and his son had first arrived on the island.

The family was growing; that much was clear. And yet, something else - something profound - stuck out from Jeff's mind as he considered it. The family that was already there, he and his five children, was also becoming stronger. It was really only Alan that concerned Jeff now, and that thought alone intensified the hope in his heart that things were finally beginning to come together. The physical structure of his family, and the organisation that was International Rescue, had been there for a while, but it had been run partially by young men who were still uncertain about their future.

But now . . . his boys were not really boys anymore. They truly were growing up, into strong and sure young men who knew what they wanted to do and – more importantly – where they were going. Gordon was closely approaching his own epiphany; his effort in the pool showed strong evidence that he wanted to go in a direction different than that of his brothers. Jeff wasn't entirely sure if he wanted his son to devote his entire life to athletics, but in the end it would be Gordon's choice to make.

And then there was Alan . . . who was everything that Jeff could expect a thirteen-year-old boy to be. He had a long ways to go, and so many things left to learn, but Jeff knew deep in his heart that Alan would eventually discover what his other brother's had already found. Until then, it would be an uphill battle for survival. It would be hard, but if Jeff understood one thing about himself, it was that he was stubborn in the face of adversity.

For the moment, though, it was time to deal with the present. Shaking himself from his reverie, Jeff strode forward to help his son from the pool. The boy took his father's hand graciously and stood grinning in front of him on the deck.

"Thanks, Dad," Gordon laughed through chattering teeth. "Boy, it's cold in there today. How'd the rescue go?"

"Just fine," Jeff assured him, taking pride in knowing that the words applied to more than just the mission. "I think everything is F.A.B."

---

A/N: Hopefully this chapter sheds a little light on the Tin-Tin situation. You won't see Tin-Tin too much more for the rest of the story, which really saddens me, but I think this sets up the movie well enough that I don't have to go into anymore detail in that area.

(sounds trumpet) Ladies and gentlemen, you may notice over the next seven chapters a subtle shift towards a certain character. Yes, Gordon fans, this is the moment that you've been waiting for. Next chapter marks the beginning of a certain saga of downfall and renewal. There are only eight chapters left to go in total, so we'd better make them count.

A HUGE thank-you goes out to Ariel D for reading this chapter over for me. Please everyone, as you read this, keep in your mind that it's been edited by the best in the business. :) No challenge daunts her, not even abnormally long chapters!

Reviewer responses:

Marblez – Yeah, I know it's been a while . . . but I've been busy. Sorry about that. (sighs) :P I can't make a complete guarantee that they rest will be really quick, but they won't be separated by months again. I'll just see what life tosses me and work around it.
Spense – I know that feeling. ;) Catching up can be really enjoyable, actually. I think you'll be interested to see how John changes throughout the rest of the story due to events in that chapter. Also, keep an eye out when "Winds" is complete – I have a couple of short stories to be posted, and one of them touches on madness and such. Actually, I have a lot of work left to be posted . . .
Ariel D – I felt like I was down there too; I felt a wee bit claustrophobic while I was writing it. ;D Zeil's busy right now, so maybe she won't notice your slip. ;)
Opal Girl – I've noticed that! I don't know why, it seems strange that no one else has ever touched on the topic. I would have loved to have written the full version of the chapter that you've just read, but I had to draw a line somewhere, unfortunately. The scene where Jeff and Kyrano meet again during his trial is one that received the axe on the drawing board. Hopefully John and Tin-tin explained it well enough for all of us. ;)
numbuh 14 – Thank you! I'm glad to see that you're reading:D
mcj – Thank you! I'm glad it was worth it. :D This one here didn't take quite as long to pop up. The next one is a lot shorter, so it should be quicker coming.
Math Girl – Once again, thank you! Those words mean a lot to me; I really worked with that chapter to make sure that the Belagants seemed like people instead of fillers to the story. It can also be mentioned in passing that there is probably a connection between the diamonds themselves and Trangh's and Tin-Tin's powers. Tin-tin has a necklace in the movie; I'd bet that it has a diamond in it! ;D I didn't go into it because of space and time constraints, but I thought I'd throw it out here as food for thought.
Assena – Hopefully this answered the question about Jeff and Kyrano – he's a very compassionate man, to summarize. :) He likes to help people, and I think at this point he's probably in desperate need of a housekeeper. Oh! I like the music! ;)
Andrewjameswilliams – Thanks! I was hoping it would explain a lot of the stuff in the movie. I wondered myself how he could possibly have afforded all of that equipment.

---

Stay turned for the next chapter, entitled, "At Midnight", where two brothers have a late-night chat about siblings, swimming, and the English language. Until then, FAB all!