John

Scott sat down in the low backed chair, looked around John's darkened room and tried to settle his racing heart rate. Just because it was necessary didn't mean he was comfortable with it, even though they'd been doing this for years now. He half unbuttoned his shirt and pushed it off his right shoulder, making sure the fabric was well clear. "Okay, ready." He announced, trying to make himself comfortable with only limited success.

"Are you sure?" John always had a hesitance about this. Scott found it reassuring considering the circumstances.

"Yep. Do it before we get a call." Scott answered, tilting his head to the left in invitation.

"Understood."

The process was always the same. John approached from behind and laid one hand on Scott's shoulder, the other supporting his head to steady him and keep him from flinching. Scott could feel John's hair tickle the side of his neck as he leaned in. The bite wasn't that bad - just a sharp pinch- it was the sounds and sensations of the feeding that had him breathing faster, the primal part of his brain howling a warning and instinctively scrabbling to escape.

For his part John tried to remain detached and abstracted from it all, directing his attention onto taking only what was necessary- which wasn't nearly as much as the ravenous instincts now curling in his skull demanded he take. The rest of his focus was on not throwing up in revulsion as he felt his brother wilt under his hands.

They were almost done when John's door suddenly swung open and the light from outside lit up the room as Kayo barged in. John pulled back from Scott with a surprised yelp and Scott clamped his hand over the bleeding puncture wounds at the base of his neck. "Shut the door!" Scott snapped at her.

"What the hell is going on here?!" Kayo demanded, looking at John with narrowed eyes as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, but at least she shut the door and granted them some privacy.

"Turn away, let him finish and we'll explain!" Scott grunted from the pain that was now flaring in his neck, bright red blood welling up between his fingers and trickling down his chest.

"Scott!" Kayo protested, eyes wide at the sight of blood.

"That's an order!" That was The Commander speaking and there were very few people who could resist that voice. Kayo turned away with reluctance, brow creased with worry and not sure what to make of the noises she could hear behind her.

"It's okay now." John announced a few minutes later. When she looked back the second eldest was sitting on the bed, studiously looking down and away from them and Scott had his shirt off, examining the bloodstains on it with a frown. "You'd better soak that before it sets." John told Scott in a neutral tone.

"Mm. You're right." Scott carefully stood and walked to the ensuite. Kayo could hear water running and fabric sloshing in the sink as he rinsed the shirt in cold water and left it there to soak.

When he came out Kayo caught him by the arm and examined his right shoulder. "They're gone!" She exclaimed, running gentle fingers over the site of the wounds she'd seen. A stained damp washcloth hanging on the arm of the chair explained what had happened to the blood she'd seen on Scott's hand and chest, but not the injuries.

"Yes, I took care of them." John said quietly. "Scott, sit down before you fall down." He told the eldest, seeing him sway on his feet and getting up to hand him an old grey hoodie before sitting on his bed again.

"Yeah, I'd better. Feeling cold." Scott muttered, shaking Kayo off and sinking into the nearest chair. He pulled the hoodie on before sagging back and closing his eyes.

Kayo could see Scott's hands trembling slightly and his face was pale. "Someone had better explain to me what is going on!" Kayo demanded, glaring at her two brothers to hide her fear.

"I need a minute, a fright on top of a feeding isn't a good idea." Scott murmured in response and gestured in John's general direction, indicating for him to start talking while he pulled himself together.

"It happened three years ago, on one of my first missions with Dad." John began, his eyes haunted. "Space freighter with engine trouble. He left me to secure the cargo bay while he was trouble shooting the engines. He got the engines back online but lost contact with me and came looking. When he found me, one of the crew had knocked me unconscious and was feeding." John pulled open the collar of his shirt to show Kayo the large scar at the base of his neck, quite unlike the small and neat puncture wounds she'd seen on Scott. "As it turns out it's not like the movies. For that strain of vampire it's a compound in the venom that turns someone. As long as they don't drain their victim completely the compound is neutralised when they lick the wound closed and their victim remains human. If they don't, they slowly change over a period of about a week. We didn't realise it at the time. When we found out it was too late."

"To be fair to the guy, he was desperate." John went on. "He had an arrangement with someone at the transfer station but they were days behind schedule and he was intending to clean and close the wound when he was done. When Dad realised something was happening, he and Kyrano tracked him down and got the full story out of him."

"He can manage daylight, food, garlic and everything else just fine, the movies have that all wrong too, and the teeth retract when he's not feeding." Scott took up the explanation, recovered enough to sit up and open his eyes. "Grandma, Brains and Virgil are in the loop, and Brains has been working on a cure ever since. To keep him going we send him the unused blood bags we get for emergency transfusions on rescues, but to be healthy he needs a top up of fresh blood every month or so."

"Does Virgil let you do these 'top ups' too?" Kayo asked. The story seemed unbelievable, but she knew what she'd seen. That they'd kept it secret from her, well, she wasn't the one to throw the first stone when it came to skeletons in the closet.

"He can't." Scott shook his head. "John and I have the same blood type, B negative, so did Dad. Virgil doesn't and it makes John sick if he tries. But the blood bags are all O negative, universal donor, those are fine."

"How do you manage?" Kayo frowned at Scott, worried. She knew blood donors had to wait months between donations for their own safety.

"Lots of iron supplements, a transfusion afterwards if I need it, and keeping very healthy." Scott told her. "It still takes a lot out of me though." He admitted.

Kayo looked between her adoptive siblings and considered her next question. "Why do it in the dark?" She asked John.

"Disassociation." Was John's short answer. "I don't like having to live like this. It...helps… if I can pretend it's not Scott. How did you know something was up?"

"The patterns. Roughly once a month you don't have to be dragged down to Earth kicking and screaming and at the same time Scott goes to bed early complaining of a migraine or something. Shortly after Scott goes to bed you vanish back up to Five." She answered, disappointed with herself at her lack of observation. How had this gone on for three years? "I should have noticed it sooner." Kayo dragged a chair over and sat between her brothers. "Are there any advantages to this condition?" She asked John, frowning as she added this new factor to her calculations for the safety and security of International Rescue and her family.

"I don't need as much food or sleep. Wounds heal faster, senses are sharper and I can maintain muscle mass and bone density in space easier than other people." Was John's answer. "Yes it's got advantages, and the more often I feed on fresh blood the better they get, but I don't want them. They cost Scott too much. Weaknesses are pretty much the same as any other person," John continued, anticipating her next question, "but I get steadily weaker, sicker and more desperate if I delay or miss a feeding."

"Then let me help carry the load." Kayo offered. "I'm O negative. You've just said you can use that and if it means Scott gets a break to keep his health up, then why not?"

"Kayo, I don't want to hurt you!" John protested, shaking his head.

"This is going to hurt Scott more in the long run if he's the only person supplying you." Kayo pointed out. "Brains, Gordon and Virgil all have the wrong blood types, Grandma is too frail and Alan is too young and small to donate, so logically it has to be me."

Kayo watched as the other two had a silent conversation with their eyes. She could practically read it as John protested bringing someone else into this and harming them, Scott argued that she was right and reluctantly admitted that this was taking a toll on him. Finally John dropped his head and acquiesced to it.

"Okay." He made a face. "I don't like this, but okay."

"Good." Kayo nodded firmly. "John, did you get enough from Scott before I interrupted?"

"I…Uh…" John stammered, caught off guard by the question.

"You didn't." Kayo nodded to herself. "Stay here, I'll go change my shirt and you can top up from me."

"Kayo, I didn't agree so it could happen right now!" John protested.

"But you need it, I'd rather have the first time sooner rather than later so you can't squirm out of it and Scott is here, he can coach me." Was her reply before she swept out.

The two brothers barely had time to discuss what had happened before she reappeared wearing a loose fitting singlet. She engaged the lock on the door and sat down in the chair that Scott had been occupying when she interrupted them. "So, what do I do?" She asked, clutching the arms of the chair to hide her nervousness.

"Dominant side seems to work the best, it has better musculature." John explained in a neutral tone, clearly unhappy, but he got up to fetch a fresh washcloth and draped it over the back of her chair, standing behind her to wait for the go ahead.

"The venom has a pain killer in it, but it helps to relax and move your head to one side, John will steady you." Scott added, dragging his chair around to sit facing her. "Keep your breathing slow and even and don't fight him. The bite isn't too bad, but the rest can be disconcerting."

"Understood." Kayo moved the singlet and bra straps off her right shoulder, tilting her head to the left. "Do it."

"Hold still." John instructed in that same soft and neutral tone, supporting her head and holding her shoulder just as he did for Scott. For her part, Kayo kept her eyes locked on Scott's, seeking reassurance and finding it in his encouraging nod.

The bite was far less painful than she'd thought it would be, but she almost leapt out of her skin when the feeding started. Scott quickly took her hands, rubbing his thumbs over her knuckles to calm her. "Breathe Kayo, deep and even." He urged her, his voice low and soothing. "John, pause for a moment. Kayo, look at me and breathe, just breathe. In through your nose, out through your mouth. Good. That's it. Just breathe."

Kayo could feel John's breath on her collarbone as he waited for her permission to continue, both his and Scott's hands firm enough to hold but loose enough that she could pull away if she wanted to. "I'm okay," she swallowed hard and forced the tremor out of her voice, "Keep going John."

He started feeding again, taking just enough to satiate his hunger for the foreseeable future, then licked the wounds closed and wiped her neck and shoulder with the damp washcloth. "Finished." He told her as he stepped back, turned away and wiped his mouth. "Thank you Kayo."

"C'mon, John likes to be left alone afterwards." Scott explained as he helped her stand. "Go have a nap, I'll come by later with the supplies for a transfusion."

Kayo touched the site of the bite, feeling only two slight divots in her skin, then hiked the straps back into place. "Okay." She leaned against Scott, feeling weak. "Help me back to my room?" She asked.

"Sure." Scott nodded and steadied her, walking her to her room and into bed before going to his own to take a much needed nap himself.

John meanwhile curled up on his bed in the darkness, knees drawn up and arms wrapped around them. He felt the new life thrumming through his body and silently wept for the cost it came with.

He hated having to live like this.

Scott and Virgil

Looking back through the family photo albums it was easy to see where different traits had come from. Scott had their mother's lean build, their father's jaw, Grandma's blue eyes and the Tracy dimples. Virgil had their father's broad shoulders, their mother's eyes and Grandpa Tracy's black hair.

The lycanthropy had skipped a generation though. That trait also came down the Tracy line. Grandpa Tracy and his brothers had had it, and while Jeff had dodged that particular genetic bullet it was picked up by Scott and Virgil instead.

Having lived with his father and seen his cousins go through it, Jeff had known exactly what to do when Scott had started showing the first signs just after puberty kicked in. Now it was Virgil's turn and tonight was going to be his first full moon. Jeff had talked with his mother and arranged for the rest of the family to be kept inside and sufficiently distracted tonight while he took Scott and Virgil to the old barn tucked behind the Gran Roca ranch. It was the perfect place for a first change- sheltered, private and secluded, it was empty of animals now that the horses had been moved into a more modern building.

"C'mon Virg, eat up, you're going to need it." Scott urged as he tucked into his plate of mashed potatoes mixed with a large spoonful of beef lard and bacon fat.

Virgil looked around the old barn and poked at the unappealing meal with his spoon. "It tastes weird." He pulled a face. "And it makes me feel sick."

"You're going to need the energy from the carbs and fat." Jeff tried to encourage his middle son. "Tonight's your first change. If you eat now, you won't have the need to eat later. Trust me Virgil. I wouldn't make you do anything without a very good reason for it."

Virgil looked up at him sullenly, then nodded and began to eat. Jeff left him to it and started to make the other preparations- taking out a collection of ziplock bags he picked a clean section of concrete floor and laid out recently used items of clothing or bedding that he'd gotten from the rest of the family, including Brains, Kyrano and Tanusha. It was vital that Virgil would be able to identify his family by scent.

Jeff couldn't help but feel terrible for all the upheavals his middle son was going through. Virgil had only gotten three months of in person high school. Somehow the stars had aligned for him- his teachers were great, the subjects fired his imagination and he'd made a plethora of friends. He'd loved it. Then the fever dreams had started and they'd had to yank him out of classes and enroll him in online schooling for the safety of his classmates. Mastering being a werewolf took years and the urge to change arose whenever the full moon was up- day or night. If Virgil was to have a chance to attend university he had to be able to control himself first and mixing the stresses of in-person high school, puberty and newly developed werewolf instincts was a disaster waiting to happen.

"It's soon." Scott warned, quickly finishing up his meal and going to one of the empty horse stalls for some privacy to undress.

Virgil swallowed hard and looked up at Jeff, fear in his eyes. "Dad?" He asked. "What do I do?"

Jeff tugged him into a hug and stroked his hair reassuringly. "Don't be scared. You don't need to think about anything, remember? It's all instinctive, just like breathing, and I'll be right here, son."

"But what if I hurt you?" Virgil asked, clinging more than hugging and fear pitching his voice higher.

Jeff hid his grimace, the media provided an endless stream of 'werewolves are monsters' content and despite his efforts to filter it out and teach his sons that werewolves weren't mindless beasts, enough had gotten through to scare him. "You won't hurt me." He assured Virgil. "If anything does happen, Scott's here and I'm tougher than I look."

He did not mention the suit of light butcher's chain mail he was wearing under his clothes as a precaution.

"Now go into the stable next to Scott and get ready, those jeans are new and your Grandma will never let you hear the end of it if you shred them." Jeff tried to lighten the mood. Virgil just nodded, went to his stall and undressed while Jeff backed well away to give his sons plenty of space.

"Moon's up." Scott reported. Jeff watched as the eldest inhaled sharply, rolled his neck and shoulders in a strangely elegant motion and dropped out of sight. A moment later a pale brown timber wolf padded out. He still had some lingering gangliness of adolescence but he was putting on more muscle than height these days. Scott trotted over to Jeff, sniffed him, then sat down on his haunches to wait, leaning against his father's leg and accepting a distracted scratch behind the ears in response.

Virgil clutched the low walls of the stable, groaned, gasped and also dropped out of sight as his form shifted from two to four legs. Hesitantly, a black nose poked out from the stall, followed by the rest of him, ears low and tail curled under as he crept out.

Jeff took a moment to compare his two sons. Scott had the classic timber wolf colouring- light brown on the head, back and tail, pale under the chin and throat and tawny eyes. When standing his shoulder was already hip-high on Jeff and he still had about a year of growing left. Judging by the size of his paws Virgil was going to be as tall as Scott, but his ears and nose were significantly darker and he still had puppy-soft fur. Honey-gold eyes looked out on the world as he tentatively stepped forward.

"Virgil, it's okay." Jeff offered the back of his hand to his son. "It's me, you know me." He continued in a low, soothing tone as the skittish werewolf extended his muzzle to his hand to sniff him.

He could almost see the moment when scent connected to memory and his identity clicked into place. Virgil's ears pricked up, his tail untucked and he almost jumped into Jeff's arms, whining, pawing at him and licking at his face. "Ha! Hey! Easy now son, easy!" Jeff laughed, trying to juggle a wriggly canine intent on lavishing him with affection and keep his feet at the same time. Scott whined at being left out and reared up, front paws up on Jeff's shoulders and nuzzling at both of them, just because he could.

Their combined weight was a bit much and Jeff yelped as he crashed to the floor in a tangle of limbs, tails and fur. Virgil wriggled free first, barked and pounced on Scott, playful now that the fear was gone and revelling in the newness of it all. Jeff got to his feet and watched with a fond smile as Scott led Virgil around the old barn in a complicated game of feinted nips and chasing.

He let them play for a little, then reluctantly called an end to their game. "Boys, come here." He ordered sharply. "You'll have all night to play, but you have some work to do first Virgil."

The two trotted over, eyes bright and tongues lolling out as they panted.

"Virgil, smell this." Jeff pointed to a NASA tee shirt laid on the floor. "John. This is John, remember him?"

Ears pitched forward, Virgil obediently sniffed the item, then instinctively rolled on it, getting the scent on himself. They worked their way down the line of clothing and bedding until Jeff was satisfied that Virgil could comfortably identify kith and kin.

"Scott, you happy to take Virgil out to burn off some of that energy?" Jeff asked his eldest, receiving a slow nod in reply. "Good. Stay well away from the other ranches and don't spook the horses. I'll be working so come and find me at midnight to change back, clear?" He instructed, waiting for the nod of understanding before he unbolted the barn door.

There was a skitter of nails over concrete and the two wolves raced out into the warm night. Jeff leaned against the door frame with his arms crossed over his chest and watched them go bounding across the landscape with a fierce kind of unbridled joy. Later the real work would begin- controlling when the change happened, learning how to pause halfway in the half-man half-wolf form, and Scott would teach Virgil how to hunt.

But tonight was for Virgil to enjoy himself. In a world hostile to the unusual, there were precious few times for that.

Gordon

He hadn't believed it, not at first. Not until he found the old travelling case at the ranch and the dusty bundle wrapped in oilskin inside.

They had Irish ancestry on both sides, just one of those weird coincidences that happened sometimes, and the family lore on Mom's side claimed that once upon a time someone back in Ireland and way up the family tree had married a Selkie.

The Selkie myth had always seemed weird to him- a lonely man finds a Selkie on the beach in human form, steals her seal skin, takes her home and hides the skin so she can never leave. Inevitably she finds it back years later, leaves her husband and child and goes back to the sea. As one of his more cynical friends had once pointed out, it was an awfully convenient way for an abusive husband to explain away what had happened to his wife if she left him. ('So where's Mary?' 'Mary? Well, there's a funny story about that…)

But according to the ancient journal he'd found with the skin, in 1901 Sean Byrne had found an actual Selkie named Ciara. He hadn't stolen her seal skin but fell in love with her and she with him. When they'd wed she'd offered her seal skin to him according to the old traditions of the Selkies but he'd instead given her a travelling case to keep it safe and gave her the key. Ciara visited the sea every Monday and Friday (it was only a stolen skin that meant a Selkie would leave) and stayed with Sean and their children until the day she died. On her deathbed she'd ordered that her seal skin should be left on land for her descendant- a Selkie child who would be born into the family at some point in the distant future.

By the way the stiff, crumbling, motheaten skin had turned soft and supple at his touch, the fur regrowing right before his eyes, that Selkie was apparently him. A male Selkie. Who'd have thought it?

He'd smuggled the skin and the journal back home but landlocked Kansas didn't have the rugged coastlines and churning surf that now haunted his sleeping hours. If he'd dared to put on the skin and slip into the swimming pool he'd have been begging to be caught by someone with the weird hours his family kept. So instead he'd innocuously suggested that Maine would be a good idea for the yearly family vacation. They hadn't been there yet and there was scenery for Virgil to draw, crystal clear night skies for the two moon-gazers and acres of wild terrain for Scott and Dad to explore.

And coastlines. Miles and miles of empty coastline.

Now they were here and he'd practically itched to pull out the skin and jump into the tide as soon as they'd reached the remote holiday house that John had found- a rustic log cabin with an open fireplace perched on a rocky shore. He'd resisted the urge until nightfall, lain awake until the house settled down, then tucked the rolled up skin and a towel under his arm and climbed out the bedroom window.

The night air was crisp and the waves were calm under the full moon. He picked his way down to the pebbled beach, half expecting to hear someone shouting his name until he ducked behind a large boulder and out of sight of the house.

He found a concealed bit of cove, stripped off, rolled his clothes up in the towel and tucked the bundle into a handy crevice well above the high tide mark.

"Well, here goes." He said to himself, his heart pounding in his chest in anticipation. He waded ankle-deep in the chilly water, unfurled the skin and draped it over his shoulders.

One moment he was standing, the next he was on his belly in the water, looking at the world from an entirely new perspective. He pushed himself forward and ducked under the waves and into the world that had been haunting his dreams. The freedom was intoxicating, sinuously twisting and turning in the water, shooting forward with a flick of his flippers and coasting on the currents with an instinctive grace he'd never thought possible.

Gordon wasn't sure how long he'd been in the water, but eventually he knew he had to leave. In the back of his mind he realised he wasn't quite a full Selkie, as a male he could only visit this part of his heritage. Eventually he'd have to pass the skin down to the next Selkie child.

Flopping out of the water, he stood and shed the seal skin. He draped it over his arm and stroked the soft fur, marvelling at the warmth he could still feel in it.

"...Gordon!?"

"Dad!?" Gordon swallowed hard, seeing his father standing on the shoreline and staring at him with wide eyes. "Um, I can explain, I think?"

Back at the house, Jeff had stirred up the fire for light and warmth, made hot chocolate and waited for Gordon to explain. The story spilled out of him- finding the skin, reading the journal and the dreams he'd had ever since, culminating in the trip to Maine and tonight's excursion.

Jeff had explained what had led him to the beach- a niggling feeling that something wasn't right (Gordon had inherited his 'squid sense' from Jeff). He'd found Gordon's bed empty and followed the tracks to the beach. Jeff had been brewing up quite the lecture for his fourth son on the dangers of swimming at night, alone and at an unfamiliar beach, but had been left completely gobsmacked when a seal had wriggled out of the tide and stood up to become his young son.

"May I?" Jeff asked, gesturing to the seal skin that Gordon cradled protectively. "I'll be careful."

"Okay." Gordon handed it over with deep reluctance.

Jeff laid it across his knees, smoothing down the now dry fur. "Lucy's grandmother showed this to me once when we were dating, we were helping her clean out some of the cupboards at the ranch." He shook his head in wonder. "I didn't believe it at the time, Lucy didn't either, especially not a moth-eaten relic like that." He tapped a cluster of spots on the skin. "I remember seeing that marking when she pulled it out to show us- spots laid out like the Bernice's Crown constellation. And now, seeing it like it's brand new…seeing you..." He shook his head in bewilderment. "I was going to tell all you boys after dinner tomorrow." He said as he handed the skin back. "But after tonight… I'd say it's a good thing the new house is going to be on an island."

Kayo

The uniform jacket and bullet proof vest would have hung like a tent off her narrow shoulders and she could have hitched the trousers halfway up her ribcage if she'd looked anything like herself. But right now she didn't and her borrowed clothes fit perfectly. No one took a second glance at her as she strode through the GDF headquarters, just another male soldier with the standard buzz cut.

Almost every culture had its myths about shapeshifters, but they were quite real and the Kyrano family abounded with them. The talent came in different strengths so actors, thieves, assassins and spies of every kind decorated the family tree. Tanusha, the scion of the Kyrano family, was a particularly strong shapeshifter, as were her father and uncle.

Some aspects of it were easier than others- things like mimicking someone's body language and voice came easily to everyone with the heritage. The advanced skills- changing one's skin, hair and eye colour and shifting the positions of muscles and bones to take on a completely different face and form took years of focus, practice and dedication to perfect.

Her uncle was too impatient and used technological shortcuts for the more complicated things, but her father was a master. He was even able to shift his scent to confuse guard dogs, and Tanusha had learned her skills at his knee.

Her father had scandalised the family when he'd refused to take up one of the family's more traditional lines of work and instead joined forces with a kind-hearted industrialist who looked at the world and saw problems to fix and needs to meet, not exploit. Tanusha had very happily gone with him, glad to leave that world behind. She'd gained a new family in the process and she took threats to that family quite seriously.

Now, after eight long years away, Jeff Tracy was home. The Hood was locked away in the darkest hole Colonel Casey could find (rumours called it The Cube, the successor to The Hex) and his organisation was being rolled up like a ball of string, leaving one last loose end to tie up.

Paid informants liked to remain being paid and there was always someone willing to buy secrets. The Hood's spy in the GDF needed to be dealt with and Kayo was very close to tracking him down. According to her information, her target was stationed in the communications wing today, his final duty shift before he had a block of leave. Kayo had a feeling he'd spend that time either finding a new buyer or finding himself a new identity. He had to be secured now, before he could escape.

She was about to pass another GDF soldier in body armour and helmet going in the same direction when her skin tingled in warning- a shapeshifter's innate ability to pick up on another shapeshifter using their gifts. The other person picked up on her too, a flicker of surprise on the bland and forgettable male face betraying them. Playing a hunch, Kayo sniffed the air and caught the faintest trace of perfume.

A very familiar perfume.

She'd helped Gordon pick it out at a boutique French perfumer's shop.

"Penelope?" She murmured in her own voice, barely moving her lips as she fell into step with the other person, appearing to all intents and purposes as if they were patrolling as a pair.

"Kayo, what a surprise." Lady Penelope's voice issued softly from the forgettable male face. "I take it you're here for the spy as well?"

"Yes I am." Kayo had to school her own features to hide her surprise. This was a surprising development indeed.

"Well then, how about we take care of this together and then get a cup of tea?" Penelope suggested. "I daresay we have a lot to discuss."

Alan

It should have been impossible. Between the theory, the simulators, the physicals, the exams and everything that he needed to know to understand flight, much less space flight, there was no way he should have been able to get his space rating at fourteen.

And it would have been, if not for the day that ten year old Alan tripped at the top of the stairs, his body landed like a crumpled rag doll at the bottom of the stairs and somewhere in the middle he managed to knock his astral self out of his physical self.

He was pretty sure that one incident was responsible for at least three of Scott's grey hairs.

There'd been panic, confusion and burgeoning hysterics but he managed to pull himself back together, woke up with a magnificent black eye and shocked his family with a full recounting of everything they'd said and done while he was 'unconscious'.

Initially he was limited to astral projecting and cramming in study time while his body slept, but after some practice he honed his newfound abilities to the point he could set his body on autopilot to do something simple- like exercise to meet the physical requirements- while he did online exams. As long as he remained within a couple of metres of his body it worked just fine, but any further and his body crumpled to the ground like a puppet with cut strings.

It was weird but his family got used to a blank faced and unresponsive Alan (Zombie Mode as Gordon dubbed it) running on the treadmill or using the rowing machine while a lesson was being worked through on the nearby projector with no one in attendance. However they did have to scramble a few times to provide explanations when a sharp eyed administrator noticed oddities. Excuses such as 'I've been learning to fly since I was six', 'Dad/Scott/John taught me on our personal rocket' and 'I live with geniuses' only worked so many times before they started wearing thin, so John was deployed for a little creative tinkering with timestamps to keep people from noticing when Alan worked on online learning modules for almost 24 hours straight.

(Not to say that he only used his abilities for school work, that is. Gordon had seen the potential immediately- April Fools and Halloween took on a whole new level when you had your own on-call poltergeist.)

Finally all his hard work paid off and he'd gone fully operational with International Rescue.

But despite all the use of his astral projection, for some weird reason none of them had ever thought ahead about how it could be used on rescues until one day there was an emergency in China. They'd made it through into the main drift of the illegal coal mine, only to find their passage blocked by a bulkhead that had come down when a digging machine went off track and caused a cave in.

"We need to get through this bulkhead, but I have no idea how close the workers are." Virgil frowned as he eyeballed the thick steel door trapping a group of miners in a tunnel rapidly filling with methane. "I can't risk using a laser cutter if they're against the door and we don't have time to rig a comms relay."

"Can we drill a pilot hole and send in a tunnel cam?" Gordon suggested.

"No time. The methane will reach critical levels before we can even get back from Two with the equipment." Virgil shook his head.

Alan frowned as well, turning the problem over in his mind. "Wait, I have an idea!" He turned to Gordon and grinned. "Catch me!" His body dropped into Gordon's arms as his astral self slipped through the bulkhead like it wasn't there. He found them clustered in an alcove perhaps thirty metres down the main transverse shaft of the mine, counted nine miners and flitted back to his body and his brothers with the information.

"Nine miners about thirty meters down the tunnel." He reported as he slipped back into his physical self and stood up.

"Okay, one, that's useful, two, a little more warning next time?" Virgil asked as he set to work on the door. "You just about gave me a heart attack when you dropped."

"F.A.B." Alan grinned at him.