Virgil was frustrated. A bit of scavenging through Quincy Smith's financial records had revealed a number of cash withdrawals made every week in the same amount. They had yet to make any connections as to where the money was being spent. Alan was convinced that the man had connections to trained assassins, but so far they found no records or connections to particularly shady characters. They wouldn't dismiss the idea just yet, the man was certainly unbalanced. But it was downright disturbing how much access the Thunderbirds had to peoples' personal lives through their astonishingly advanced technology and unlimited financial resources.
A search of his life showed them what kind of a man Smith was. He'd led a rather mundane career, though he had always entered himself into academic and professional positions and competitions and obviously thought himself to be rather great, his actual work had always come off as mediocre at best. Over and over again he was passed over for grants and promotions.
They had been interested to find that he had received payments from a rather pesky tabloid photographer on each of the days that Scott and Virgil had been visiting Alan. Lady P jumped at the chance to investigate, and it was really too easy to discover that the weasel photographer had paid Smith for leads on the Tracy family. Apparently, Smith made a deal with the photographer upon first discovering the youngest Tracy was in his class. The photographer, like so many others just wanted to make it big with pictures and stories about the famous but elusive Tracy clan.
There were no other records of Smith abusing students, but at this point they were all well aware that this had to be a personal grudge between Jeff and Smith. What they didn't understand was why Smith hadn't used the conference to rub it more in Jeff's face. If it was about Jeff, why not tell him, or why take it out on Alan and not take advantage of his face to face with Jeff to also take it out on him? In fact, at this point he was threatening Alan so that he wouldn't say a word to Jeff. Grudge or not, the man was unhinged.
They felt that they had enough to get Smith fired from the school, but they didn't think they had enough to arrest him. Alan could make a charge of sexual molestation, but they had very little proof and didn't think it could stick. They had pictures of the assault, that would count for something, but Virgil wouldn't be truly happy unless the man could be put behind bars.
Still, getting him out of the school was their big worry. He didn't seem to be as dangerous as he claimed (a photographer was a far cry from an assassin). And yet, they all agreed that something felt really wrong about the situation; years of dealing with danger on a near daily basis had taught them to trust their intuition and all of them felt their intuitions screaming that there was more happening than they had so far discovered. Virgil kept circling back to the mysterious cash withdrawals. Smith wasn't hurting financially, but he didn't make a ton of money, and it seemed as though he was steadily draining his life savings. If they could just figure out where the money was going they would feel a lot better about taking next steps.
Still, they had only been investigating him for a couple of days and Alan was safe away from the school. They had some time for wiggle room to dig deeper before they had to take action.
On Thursday evening Jeff had a chance to sit down and watch Alan's choir performances. Alan had been in his room working on homework for school and for therapy, but to his mortification he heard some very familiar songs coming from the living room. His dad looked proud as Alan's own voice filled the room. He caught sight of Alan standing off to the sight looking on in horror and motioned him over with a smile, but Alan backed away and ran back to his room in a panic.
His dad came to find him, told him about how he learned about all of Alan's extra activities on Tuesday when he was at the school, and he couldn't be more proud. But Alan was worried. In fact, he became frantic. He couldn't find the words or sort through the emotions to express himself properly and instead he shouted at Jeff to leave him alone. Jeff was out of his league and didn't know what had set Alan off. Obviously there was a reason that Alan hadn't told him about the extra-curricular activities, and it wasn't an accident or an oversight; both track and soccer required permission to take the student off campus for away games and medical forms, which Alan must have filled out himself and forged Jeff's signature. That was a problem they'd have to address at some point, lest Alan got the idea that it was okay to forge other documents, but the bigger question remained, why didn't Alan want Jeff to know?
Jeff wasn't about to respond to being shouted at. He would respect Alan's wishes and space, but Alan had to respect him in return. Shouting for no reason wasn't going to help either of them. So Jeff remained and calmly told him, "I will give you space if you need me to, but please don't yell at me to go away or to leave you alone."
Alan knew that wasn't the right way to do things, but he was growing more agitated by the second and he was losing control of himself.
Jeff knew he needed to abandon the subject of the after school activities before he really even had a chance to bring it up. It was obvious it was a sore spot for Alan, and now he was more desperate than ever to find out why. But right now Alan needed to get control of himself, and apparently he wasn't quite sure how to do that.
"What do you need right now, what can help you?"
Alan was losing it, he started scratching at the skin of his face with his fingernails. He needed to release the anger and that was the only way he felt he could in that moment. Jeff came over to him and restrained his arms so that he couldn't continue to hurt himself. Alan resisted, tried to fight his way out of his father's hold, but it was futile. His father was still bigger and stronger than him and Alan's ribs were still recovering. When he realized that his fighting was getting him nowhere, he dissolved into wordless angry shouts, which eventually gave way to frustrated, heaving sobs.
When Alan had calmed somewhat Jeff tried to give him some breathing exercises to help him calm further. He said it was something he used when he felt himself losing control. Alan humored him and tried the deep breathing, but it didn't seem to help.
When Jeff finally felt it was safe to grant Alan's request to be left alone, he got up and went back to the living room.
After Jeff left the room, Alan was embarrassed and frustrated with himself. He had made his father feel bad and that wasn't what he had wanted to do. He thought desperately of cutting himself. His arms were bandaged and he had no access to anything sharp. In anguish he took a permanent marker and slashed it across his bandages, wishing it was a knife cutting into his skin. He slashed it over and over and over, sometimes pressing it down so forcefully that it made his old scars hurt under the bandages. He was sure he even caused a few of his previous cuts to reopen and begin bleeding again. When that wasn't enough he turned toward his pillow and punched it relentlessly until his body became tired. It wasn't the same relief as cutting, but in the end he had relieved just enough of his pent up frustration to fall asleep.
The next morning he had to wear long sleeves to hide his vandalized bandages. He hadn't hurt himself, but the intent seemed pretty obvious, and he was embarrassed about it. Unfortunately his father was still keeping a pretty close watch over him and noticed the choice in fashion. He only grew suspicious when Alan hesitated to roll up his sleeves and show him he was okay. When Alan finally capitulated Jeff took in the sight, sighed a deep, sad sigh, and asked if he wanted to talk about it. Alan declined and Jeff felt lost and defeated. But he put an arm around Alan's shoulder and led him to the master suite where he had fresh bandages stored up. It was just marker, it's not like it actually harmed him, but they both knew that harm had been Alan's desire. Jeff figured it would be better to remove all reminders of the setback. Besides, it was probably time to put on fresh bandages and clean Alan's wounds again anyhow. He rewrapped Alan's arms, and it was as if the slate was cleaned. They didn't talk about it again.
Jeff was glad that their first family counseling session was set for that afternoon, it couldn't come soon enough in his opinion.
That day Alan was in a foul mood. He hated himself for shouting at his father, for losing control of himself, for…everything, he just hated himself. Fridays were meant to be spent with group (that happened every day) and art therapy with family counseling rounding off the day. Alan was anxious about having to face his dad in family counseling. He'd acted like an angry, spoiled child the night before and now he felt overwhelmingly stupid for it. What really got him, though, was that his dad had told him how proud he was of him. It shouldn't have set him off, he desperately wanted his dad to be proud of him. Why would he be so furious to hear the words he was always craving?
He had to focus at the task at hand, though. They were supposed to be making collages to tell about themselves. They had a stack of magazines that seemed to stretch as high as Tracy Towers, and they were supposed to go through and tear out words and pictures that described them or spoke to them in some way. It wasn't an activity that Alan wanted to do. How could he focus on presenting himself on paper when he hated himself so thoroughly at that moment. Nevertheless, he found plenty of pictures that symbolized the things that he loved to do and words that he thought described himself. He didn't do a bad job piecing it together artistically either. Virgil was the artistic one in their family, and Alan didn't have half that talent, but in the end he thought it looked pretty good. The hard part was talking about what they had chosen for themselves. Alan didn't mind talking about his interests, but when the counselor concluded with a comment about how he wouldn't mind being friends with the person depicted on that paper Alan had to cringe. Perhaps he wouldn't have minded being friends with the person the collage depicted either, but that didn't encapsulate the full and real Alan Tracy. There was something inside of him that he felt was irreparably broken and awful, something that he couldn't explain on paper. And he wouldn't want to be friends with THAT person.
When art therapy was over Alan went down the hall to wait outside the family counseling room. He was worked up and nervous. He had finally come up with a list of ten negative thought patterns to work through with cognitive behavioral therapy. They weren't innocuous, though, and though he had written down positive thoughts to replace each one, he couldn't make himself believe those positive thoughts. They were more dreams that he wished were true. He didn't want to share these with his dad, he wasn't ready for that yet. He was glad his brothers weren't here. He loved them dearly, but this first family counseling was hard enough. His brothers had volunteered to come out for it and Jeff firmly told them that they would have to wait until another time. This one was going to just be between Jeff and Alan. Alan was grateful for that, but a little scared too.
Reaching the end of the corridor, Alan saw that his father was waiting in a chair outside the office. Alan cautiously took the seat next to him without saying a word. Jeff put a hand on his shoulder and Alan sank into the touch. He didn't think he deserved his father to be so forgiving after the way Alan had acted the night before.
Jeff wasn't thinking that at all, he had been worried sick when he saw Alan attacking himself. That's all that was on his mind. Obviously it boiled down to a lot of deeper issues that were going to take time to work through, but on the surface it had stemmed from Jeff learning about Alan's school activities. Jeff hadn't even been that upset about Alan yelling at him to tell him to leave him alone; as far as teenage parent relationships went, they actually had a pretty solid one. Yelling like that wasn't acceptable in the long run, but it could have been worse. No, what Jeff was thinking was that he had to find a way to help his son when they experienced moments like the night before.
The door to the office opened and a young woman beckoned them in. She introduced herself as Sarah Parker, she would be their family therapy specialist for the next several weeks. After introductions and a little bit of light chatter, Sarah asked Alan if he had been able to complete the group CBT exercise that had been given earlier in the week. Alan pulled out his paper with the ten negative and positive thoughts. He paused and looked down at his feet. He really didn't want to share what was on that paper. After a pause Alan gathered the courage to ask if they could talk about something else instead. He handed her the paper after she asked for it (they would put it in his file in case he was ready to talk about it at a later time), and she asked if there was something he was more comfortable talking about.
When Alan went quiet again Jeff uncomfortably cleared his throat. He quietly asked Alan if he could share with the counselor what had happened the day before. Alan felt his face heat up, but he gave a shrug of his shoulders. Jeff felt a little stuck; he didn't want to bring up something Alan wasn't comfortable talking about yet, but he did want to talk about it and get the help of a professional. He didn't want Alan to continue to act violently against himself, and if they were going to stop that behavior they had to get to the bottom of the issues that caused it.
Jeff gave the counselor a rundown of what had happened and what had led to it. When he was finished, the counselor motioned for Jeff to start off the conversation. So Jeff asked, "Why didn't you tell me about all the activities you're involved in, I would have loved to have come and seen you?"
There was quiet for a moment, but then Alan, emboldened by a couple days of talking about all of his emotions, decided to take a chance and tell Jeff that he didn't want to fail in front of him.
Jeff insisted that he would be proud if Alan simply tried his hardest and enjoyed himself, that's all he could ever ask for.
What came next spoke to the real heart of the issue. Alan admitted a lot more quietly and hesitantly that he was afraid Jeff wouldn't have the time to come out and see any of the games or meets or performances because he was so busy with Tracy Enterprises and other business (of course Jeff knew that "other business" meant International Rescue).
Jeff felt like a knife had plunged into his heart. In the end he had to admit that his schedule would have made it hard, but he would have tried. Without knowing about any of the activities he didn't even have the chance to try, and that ensured that he couldn't come.
Before Alan could stop the words from spilling out he said, "That was kind of the point of not telling you." As soon as the words escaped, he wished he could take them back, because now he would have to explain himself, and he didn't think he could face the pain and reality of what was coming next.
But, of course, Jeff asked what he meant. "I didn't want you to say you were going to come out, and then look forward to it only to realize that something came up that was more important."
Jeff imagined he heard the words "than me" hanging off the end of what Alan had just said, but he hoped he was wrong and he just had to clarify, "More important than one of your games?"
Alan shook his head briefly and sharply shrugged his shoulders at the same time.
Jeff persisted, "More important than what, Alan?" His voice was light because the air was slowly being sucked out of his lungs.
"Than me!" Alan said the words Jeff had expected but was dreading, and he tried to run out of the room, but Jeff grabbed a hold of him and held him steady.
"That's how you feel. You feel like my work and everything else is more important to me than you are?"
"No! I know that what you do is important. It's really stupid of me to expect you to come out to a couple of pathetic games when the whole world is counting on you, it's selfish of me and I don't want you to miss something important or to lose business because of my dumb activities!"
"Alan. Stop." Jeff wished he had time to process everything that was being said and not said but he needed to get to the bottom of this right now.
Sarah stepped in at that moment, as she realized that both Jeff and Alan were losing control of their emotions. "Jeff, you seem to be getting angry, what is it that has upset you?" It may have felt fairly obvious, but it served the purpose of making Jeff pause and think.
"It's a few things. I'm not angry at Alan. But I am feeling angry because he's feeling this way, and because it is my fault that he's feeling these things." He turned back to Alan and continued, "I don't like how you're constantly putting yourself down, first of all. In one breath you referred to yourself or your interests as stupid, selfish, pathetic, and dumb. That is unacceptable, because you are none of those things to me and I just told you that I am proud of the interests you have taken. Even if I wasn't proud, you should be proud of yourself. Second of all, what I do IS important Alan, I am not going to deny that. But it has never been and never will be more important to me than you. Look me in the eye right now, because I need you to understand this." Jeff waited until Alan looked up at him, then continued, "There are times when I miss out on the things you do. I hate those times, and I know you do too. Maybe there are too many of those times and I need to find a way to spend more time with you and better quality time with you. But don't ever mistake that for me not being proud of you or for you not being important to me. You and your brothers will always be the most important parts of my life. Always. Second to nothing. Do you understand me?" His voice was firm, no nonsense, yet gentle at the same time.
Alan wanted to believe him, even if he couldn't fully internalize it yet, so he nodded and laid his head on his dad's shoulder. He didn't want to feel vulnerable in front of Sarah, so it was only a brief moment before he lifted his head from his father's shoulder and straightened himself up.
Sarah gave them a few conversation exercises to try over the course of the next week (including filling Jeff in on what the cbt exercise was that Alan had been given a few days before), and before they knew it their time was up.
Alan was glad to be headed back home for the whole weekend, it had been a long and trying day.
Jeff was exhausted. He knew that part of depression meant that a person's thoughts became distorted. It wasn't a matter of telling Alan that he loved him and the bad thoughts magically disappearing. Alan had to become healthy enough in his thoughts to systematically destroy the bad thoughts one by one and replace them with good thoughts. And sometimes a bad thought could take days, weeks, months, even years to destroy. CBT was only part of the process. Jeff and the boys were going to have to prove through their actions and through constantly talking through and reminding Alan with their words that they loved him and found him a critical part of their family and each of their lives. Of course, in Alan's case, Jeff hoped that the medication would also play a helpful part in the process also.
The week had been busy between arriving in New York, the older boys hanging around for a couple of days, Alan's first week of treatment, and Jeff's work with Tracy Enterprises. Gordon would be arriving on Sunday evening for some meetings on Monday and Tuesday, then leaving Tuesday evening. Scott would be arriving Wednesday night for some meetings on Thursday, then leaving Friday. If Jeff wanted quality time alone with Alan, this weekend would be it. He had cleared his work schedule so that he could have all of Saturday and Sunday off. He had heard the news from Virgil that Smith had no connections to dangerous people and that the assassin threat was a farce. Jeff was relieved, though he would still be cautious. He thought it might be nice to take Alan out for the day on Saturday.
There was a car show that he thought Alan would like to see, Alan always had loved anything with a motor, especially if it went fast. Jeff smiled to himself, yes, this would be a good way to spend the day. Maybe they would do something relaxing afterward, like catch a movie; Alan had been exhausted this week, adjusting to new medications took a toll on the body and adjusting to constantly being in therapy took a toll on the mind.
Alan couldn't remember the last time he had such a relaxing day. He was caught up on his homework, he had no activities that he had to get to. But it wasn't just the lack of work; he had spent a truly amazing day just hanging out with his father. A love for cars and things that go fast was something he and his father had always shared with each other. They had spent hours at the car show, just walking around and admiring the gorgeous machines that were on display. Alan had nearly drooled over the Ferraris and Jeff wasn't much better. They had access to the most incredible machines that the world had ever seen in the Thunderbirds, but spending most of their time on an island meant that they didn't have much need or opportunity to drive.
Alan wasn't sure what it was that did it, but by the time they got to the movie theater he could barely keep awake. He had been back into a good habit of sleeping and eating healthily over the past week. Those were two things that he had let slip dangerously while at school over the past couple months, and his body was paying dearly for it. He had been exhausted all the time. But his father (and Virgil…and Scott for that matter) had insisted that a teenager needs at least seven to nine hours of sleep a night, and that it was best to be on a consistent schedule. And the food, they seemed to always be on him to eat his meals. So in theory he shouldn't have been as tired as he was. But the week had been exhausting just talking about personal things all the time listening to others talk about heavy matters. And the medication sometimes made him feel spacy. Apparently he would adjust to it eventually, but he didn't feel so sure. Whatever it was, Alan found that in the darkness of the movie theater, after the first relaxing day he could remember having all year, he simply couldn't keep his eyes open.
When he opened his eyes again he found himself both refreshed and disappointed. His father had gently shaken his shoulder and was standing up in front of him. The movie had ended, and he hardly remembered the first half hour of it. The decision was easy when his father asked if he'd rather go out for dinner or order in. He may have been refreshed after his accidental nap, but a night in still sounded more manageable in his exhausted state.
Sunday was just as relaxing. They didn't go out again, rather they spent the day playing cards, which Jeff soundly schooled him at multiple times (though Alan had one triumphant victory). Gordon arrived just before dinner time and they decided to go out for pizza.
Usually at night Alan found himself feeling alone and desperate. It was a frustrating phenomenon that he could feel loved and wanted while he was around his family, but as soon as he was alone he felt rejected and like a burden to everyone. But that night Alan settled into bed, listening to Gordon's even breathing in the bed across the room, and he felt content. He settled into a welcome and peaceful sleep, ready to take on the week ahead.