I'd like to thank all those who kindly left a review - it really means a lot to hear your opinions.
Must mention - I've taken the plot to the pilot episode and placed the Tracy brothers within it. The Winchesters, wonderful as they are, don't feature. I have twisted the plot to fit with my purposes, and I've added my own touches, but the broad plotline belongs to Kripke.
John Tracy smiled as he left the lecture hall. So far, it had been even better than expected and he couldn't wait for the last presentation. He glanced at the sky, noting the clouds with distaste and pulled his warm wool coat tighter about him. It was another cold night and would more than likely rain. Or sleet, he thought darkly, the winters being what they were in Boston.
The crowd around him parted slowly, friends and acquaintances calling goodnights as they left and John edged his way from them, offering his own quiet words to those he knew. While he had been invited to two different outings tonight, John had politely declined, deciding on calling his family instead. He hadn't spoken to Alan since he'd left, the kid being a little put out at being the only one of the five that would have to remain in the house alone, having school to attend. John knew that Alan would have forgiven him that first night, the mercurial moods familiar to his older brother, yet he'd promised their father that he wouldn't call until the weekend. Jeff wanted to enjoy his time with his youngest son without the interruptions of older brothers turning Alan's head.
While Jeff was close to all his children, it was still hard to make time for each of them. John knew his Dad wanted to treat Alan, quality time just the two of them and John also knew that that meant an understanding amount of space. But John wanted to tell the kid about the lectures and what he thought was going to happen in the final one tomorrow. While Alan didn't have the quiet intensity John brought to his passion, he did love the stars and all that space entailed. He'd have gotten a kick out of the presentation, if he'd managed to have stayed still long enough.
When he's older, John promised himself. Then he'll really enjoy it.
For now, Alan was simply too young, there was too much going on around him to distract his attention and he hadn't pinpointed his obsessions the way his brothers had. In many ways, Alan seemed to encompass each of his brother's loves.
"John!"
The shout was all the warning he got before his arms were full of twelve year old brother.
"Alan! What are you doing here? Where's Dad?"
From the region of John's chest, a muffled wail replied. "I don't know!"
For the first time, John realised his little brother was out without a coat, shivering in the embrace as he pressed himself close to John. Pulling back to study the boy, John frowned at the state of Alan's clothes, his pale face and tired eyes. But it was the child's blue lips that spurred him into action; pushing Alan's words to the back of his mind, John tore off his coat and thrust Alan's arms into it, the way he had dressed the boy when he was younger.
"I couldn't reach anyone," Alan told him, wide eyes searching John's face. "And I fell and broke my phone and Ruddy …"
John paused in doing up the buttons when Alan trailed off. "Ruddy?" he prompted.
Alan's lips clamped tightly shut and he shook his head sharply. "I'm cold," he mumbled.
"I know," John sympathised. Wrapping an arm around the trembling boy, John hailed a cab.
Alan had refused to talk during the short ride back to John's hotel, huddling in his brother's coat and staring stonily out the window as the sleet hit the pane in short, sharp drops. John hadn't pressed him, not with the cabbie keeping one ear on them, and in the silence, his thoughts swirled through his mind. All he knew was that their father hadn't come home Thursday night and Alan had somehow travelled up to Boston on his own, without stopping to pack a bag or even grab a jacket. Worry settled in John's stomach, cold and heavy.
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Once in the warm rooms of the hotel, Alan let out a little sigh that sounded very much like relief, and John couldn't hold back any longer. Knowing his brother had had to make his way up to Boston with the worry of his Dad's disappearance looming over him didn't make John feel good, although he had to admit he was proud Alan had done it at all. Still, he wondered why the kid had left home in the first place, instead of making his way to Tracy Industries.
"Alan?" he softly shook his brother's shoulder. "What happened?"
The boy looked up at him, blinking back tears and John's heart squeezed. The last few days couldn't have been easy on him.
"Dad didn't come home," Alan said softly. "So I waited until seven thirty and tried his office. Ruddy said he'd already left, that he was probably stuck in traffic. So I sat in his office and waited."
John smiled slightly at the thought of little Allie in the big room. "Go on," he urged gently when Alan seemed hesitant to continue.
"I fell asleep," Alan sighed. "When I woke up, it was dark. I knew Dad would have found me if he'd gotten home, but I wanted to look for him anyway. I was walking down the stairs when I fell." He paused and lifted a shaking hand to his temple gingerly. "I … I hit my head and broke my phone and passed out."
John's smile vanished. "For how long? Allie? Do you know?"
Alan's face scrunched up, the way he did when he was going to say something his listener wasn't going to like. "A while," he hedged, wincing when John tilted his head to get a good look at him.
"How long's a while?" John asked, studying the healing wound on his brother's temple. How had he not noticed this before now? It didn't look deep, but Alan's next words were troubling.
"Around ten hours?" he made it sound like a question, but John knew it wasn't.
"God, Alan," he exclaimed. "Did you get it checked out?"
"There wasn't any time!" Alan explained. "I tried Virgil, Gordon and you, but I couldn't get through to anyone. So I tried Dads office again, and Ruddy said he'd come over."
"Good," John said, approvingly. "Then what?"
Alan turned his face away.
"Alan? Then what?"
Alan sniffed. "There was a fire," he said softly. "Just like … he was on the … it was exactly the same, John."
John frowned, fearing his brother had damaged himself more that he'd thought. "The same?"
Once more Alan silenced himself, turning his face away and tightening his jaw. It was a typically stubborn pose, one that John had tangled with before, but this time he refused to back down.
"Out with it, kid," he demanded, channelling his inner Tracy. John could be stubborn too. "The same as what?"
Alan's posture didn't change, he refused to meet John's eyes, and clenched his jaw even tighter. John took a calming breath and thought how best to help his little brother out.
"How did the fire start?" he asked.
Alan shut his eyes. Wrong question, then. John ground his teeth while he finished counting to ten, wondering if Alan had started it. The idea wouldn't leave him alone, explaining as it did his brother's reluctance to talk about it.
"Was it you?" he pressed.
"No," Alan replied tightly.
John accepted the answer, doubting his brother would lie about it. "Alright. Where was it?"
"Dad's study."
"Was it confined to the one room?"
Alan's shoulders sagged a little. "The last time I looked, yeah," he agreed quietly.
John attempted to work out what that meant, while Alan was feeling talkative. "So, you left the house as it was burning? Did you call the fire brigade?"
Alan shook his head, finally turning to his older brother and John could see the anguish in his cobalt eyes. John cupped the boy's cheek in one hand and felt Alan tremble as he let out a shaky sigh.
"Alan," John breathed softly. "Tell me."
Alan stared at his brother, finding only love and concern in the familiar features. The past few days had been hard, he'd forced himself to keep it together, to not think, to only allow the need to find his brothers to enter his mind and now that he was reunited with one, his defences crumbled and he allowed himself to be a little boy again.
"It was horrible, John." he whispered, brushing the back of his hand across the tears springing to his eyes. "It came out of nowhere. It all happened so fast."
"Start at the beginning, Sprout," John suggested, moving them over to his bed and lightly pressing Alan's shoulder in a gesture to sit. The kids legs practically gave out under him half way down and John wrapped a supportive arm around his shoulders.
"Alright, so Dad didn't come home Thursday night and we were unreachable," John recapped, feeling the dark twist of guilt at the knowledge. "You spent the night unconscious and when you woke up, you called Ruddy. He came to the house and there was a fire, in Dad's study. That right so far?"
"Yeah," Alan sniffed, trying to stem the tears that threatened at the corner of his eyes. "It came out of nowhere, honest John. I didn't start it. I couldn't, not something like that."
John bit the inside of cheek to stop himself from interrupting. Just what had Alan meant by that? He nodded, indicating that Alan continue.
Alan took a breath. "Ruddy just kinda … yelped. He - it sounds crazy, even to me, John."
"Go ahead, kiddo."
Alan's eyes became distant as he relived those terrifying moments. "He was lifted up to the ceiling and he hit it, hard. When he did, he burst into flames. The noise … the heat, it was intense. And I could hear him screaming." Alan blinked. "The fire spread really quickly, it was dripping down the walls. It blocked me from getting the extinguisher and I … I looked up."
Alan shuddered and John's skin prickled, his heart nearly stopping. Surely not, not this? John shifted, worried and sick to his stomach.
Alan didn't seem to notice his discomfort, continuing to speak as if he was far away, removed from the frightening memory. "I didn't want to," he said softly. "I didn't want to see it again. But I couldn't stop myself and I looked up. Ruddy screamed at me to run, but I didn't want to leave him."
Tears were now appearing, several dripping down Alan's cheeks and he brushed absently at them as he spoke. "I looked around for something that could stop the fire and saw something step out of the wall. A shadow, a man, I think. His eyes were on fire too."
Alan stopped when he felt John jump. His older brother had been steadily losing his colour as he realised all Alan had been left to deal with, but every last bit of blood left his face at Alan's last sentence.
"John?" Alan bit his bottom lip, worried his brother thought him insane, but John stared at him, his strong grip biting into Alan's shoulders.
"Did he touch you? Hurt you?"
Alan shook his head, staring at John's pale face.
"Did he speak? Allie?"
"N-no," Alan stuttered. "I ran away."
"Thank God," John breathed, dropping his hands only long enough to gather Alan to him, almost crushing the child in his firm hug. "Alan, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry you had to face that. All on your own too."
Alan sniffed against Johns shoulder. "I couldn't reach you, John."
"I know, I'm sorry." John's hand brushed lightly through his brother's hair, an old habit each of the older brothers were prone to, a soothing gesture learned from their mother. "I promised Dad I'd give you guys a few days space."
Alan's arms tightened around his brother. "I wish you hadn't."
"Me too, kid. Me too."
The two were quiet for a moment, until a small voice broke the stillness.
"D'ya think I'm crazy?"
"No," John promised. "Far from it, Allie."
John, despite his fears, his worry and the unholy rollercoaster his insides were currently riding, untangled himself from his brother. The kid did a damn good impression of a spider monkey at times.
"Where are you going?" Alan asked, sounding worried.
John ruffled his brother's hair. "I'm not going anywhere, Sprout. You're going for a long hot bath while I give our brothers a shout."
"But their phones aren't on," Alan reminded him.
John smiled slowly. "Don't need no phones, kiddo. Go on, now. Bathroom."
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John Tracy displaying his anger was a sight to behold.
Unlike his brother's, the famous Tracy temper didn't show itself in a angry, firey outburst. Even Virgil, slowest to temper, could blow up spectacularly. Not John, though. John burned with icy intensity, so hot it was cold. That anger could blister you before you felt any pain.
So when his furious voice thundered through his brother's thoughts late on Sunday evening, all three Tracy's felt as if their minds had been bombed. The message was succinct, but the overlaying tension, anger and worry exploded in their heads, remaining for long hours after. The words themselves, while vague to an outsider, made their heads spin.
Get to Boston tonight! It's back for Alan!
John sat on the bed afterwards, dazed and exhausted. He rarely used his talent to project his thoughts, and never so far before. The other three Tracy's were scattered across America and John thanked his lucky stars he was so in tune with them, enabling him to find them among so many people. Still, it had left him weak, all his anger burning out, fading as his energy bled from him.
This was how Alan found him, perched on the edge of his bed, one hand supporting him against the mattress, the other pinching the bridge of his nose.
"John?" Alan, struggling in his older brother's long sweatpants, hurried to his side. "What's wrong?"
John struggled to open his eyes. Everything was shiny, a luminescent brightness that hurt to look at, a bad side effect of overusing his talent. Alan burned brighter than anything else in the room and although it pained him to look, John couldn't tare his eyes away.
"I'm okay, kid," he answered quietly.
Alan's small face creased in concern, but he changed the subject. "Did you get a hold of the others?"
John nodded, immediately wishing he hadn't. "Yeah, no problem. I'm sure they'll be turning up soon."
"How?"
"Oh, the usual way, I imagine."
"John?"
"Travelling 'Air Gordon' is something of a wonder, Al." John lent back on the bed and closed his eyes. Alan watched him in confusion for a moment, before giving in to the lure of the bed. Climbing onto the mattress beside his brother, Alan wriggled until he was comfortable, falling into the deepest sleep he'd had since this ordeal had begun.
Opening one eye sleepily as the mattress dipped beside him, John rolled onto his side and wrapped an arm around his kid brother, tugging him close. He waited for several minutes until Alan's thoughts became his own and watched the boy dream.