Disclaimer: Nothing has changed…I still don't own them or make any money from this story.

A/N: I meant to get this posted 7-15-07 but was distracted by some shopping and then the ever-so-fun housecleaning.

Bittersweet Recollections

Alan

"Damnit, Alan, why do you have to question everything I say and then do the exact opposite?" Scott's anger was unfounded but I wasn't stupid enough…wait, when have I ever just bit my tongue instead of arguing back? Never, that's when. I was Jeff Tracy's fifth born son and the one who constantly went toe-to-toe with him. I was the exact opposite of Scott who had done everything our father said without question. John was normally off in his own world and was too quiet to argue back at all. Virgil took everything in stride and did what was expected of him. Gordon…let's just say that he was often in trouble but even he didn't argue with Dad just for the sake of arguing. So, that leaves me, the immature one, who never hesitated questioning anyone at anytime except on a rescue and when others depended on my brothers and me to work as a flawless team. Hell, we had to depend on each other as well.

You'd think that by now Scott would know why I question everything. "Hmm, let's think about that, Scott. Oh, I know why, it's because, first of all, you're not my dad. In case it may have escaped your attention, Dad's dead and just because you've always been the perfect son does not mean that I'll ever just accept what you tell me and go on my merry way." Fighting back the sudden pressure behind my eyes, I turned from him. Thinking of Dad was a guaranteed way to shatter the carefully placed shields to collapse. I still missed him so much but aside from Gordon, none of my brothers would talk with me about him. Eerily, it was much like when Mom died. Everyone but Gordon closed up and held their memories and thoughts of her tight. I wonder if they realize that they're doing it again with the loss of our father. Dad had done the same thing only to a greater degree when Mom died. It was like he'd almost lost his will to live but a headstrong son brought him back to us…me.

Flashback

"Gordy, how come Daddy don't love us no more?" The seven-year-old blonde-haired boy lightly pushed against the ground to get his swing moving while his older brother pumped his legs to make his own swing go higher. Neither of the boys noticed the man standing at the side of the house, listening to what they were saying.

"Daddy does so love us, Allie. He's just been really busy; didn't you hear him say so yesterday?" Gordon replied. He continued swinging higher and higher until he had reached the highest point possible.

"But he didn't used to be busy like this 'fore Mommy died," Alan argued. "He always came home for dinner and he took us to the park. Now he don't do nothing with me except tell me to be more like you, Virg, Johnny, and Scotty."

"That's cus you argue every time Daddy says something," Gordon said. Alan scowled darkly at him before staring off into the distance. "Why can't you just do what he says?"

"You're so stupid, Gordy," Alan snapped. "I'm not like all of you. I'm me, Alan, not the perfect, creative, smart, or funny one. Just me!" Angry and hurt, he jumped off the swing and landed in a small huddle on the ground before regaining his feet and running around the house. As with Alan's luck, he ran right into his father who picked him up. "PUT ME DOWN!"

"Shh, Alan, it's just me," Jeff said. Alan stopped struggling and stared at his dad's tear-streaked face. Slowly, Jeff carried his youngest son to the small stoop at the side of the house and sat down still holding him close. Alan remained distant yet curious as to why his dad had been crying.

"Why are you crying, Daddy? I haven't been bad or done nothing bad to no one," Alan asked. "I've done my chores like Grandma told me to do." Jeff shook his head and tried to gather his thoughts so that he could try and make things better for his baby.

"You're not in trouble of any kind, Son," he assured him. "I want to tell you something that may make you feel better."

"What?" Alan shifted his gaze to the ground and waited to hear what his father had to tell him.

"I heard you and Gordon talking," Jeff answered. "You were right, I have been away from home a lot but it's not because I don't love you. I…I don't know how to let go of your mom. I miss her, Alan." Hearing the slight waver in his father's voice, Alan tenderly place his small hand on his cheek and bright blue eyes met brown eyes in a shared sense of loss. A loss that neither could forget but was so vastly different in comparison. The loss of a beloved wife and life partner was hard to accept but to a child who had lost his mother the loss was no less easy to bear much less understand. After all in a child's mind only old people died not young mommies and daddies.

"I miss Mommy, too," Alan admitted. "But I miss you more and you're right here." Astonished by his son's insight, Jeff hugged him closer.

"I'm so sorry, Allie," he said, softly. "I didn't mean to shut any of you out. But that's not what I really meant. What I meant is that I don't expect you to be 'perfect' like Scott or creative like Virgil. Nor do I want you to be an exact replica of John or Gordon. I want you to be just who you are…my youngest son, Alan Shepard Tracy, and even though you seem to thrive on arguing with anyone and everyone, I'd much rather have you as you are than to be something you're not."

"Really, Daddy?" Alan stared hard at his dad as if trying to determine if he was serious or not.

"Without a doubt. If there is one thing that will be guaranteed, it's that there will never be a dull moment," Jeff answered. Alan sat, content, on his dad's lap and enjoyed the special time between the two of them that was indeed a rarity.

End flashback

"I'm not trying to be Dad, Allie," Scott said. "There was a reason why I told you not to climb that damn tree and that was because I know first hand that it was dead and brittle. How the hell do you think I managed to break my arm when we were kids? It was from climbing the same damn tree and the last thing I wanted to see was one of my brothers needlessly hurt." His shoulders slumped and he turned away from me. "But you know what, Alan? You do whatever you want because right now I don't know what I'm supposed to do or how to feel." I watched as my oldest brother walked away from me and made a startling connection. He was more like our dad than even I realized.

"Scotty?" I called out. "I'm not letting you do it." Silently, he turned to face me with confusion and an incredible sense of loss etched on his face.

"Do what?" he asked, perplexed. Even though it went against our nature, I hugged my big brother. It wasn't an easy feat since I had to keep hold of my crutches.

"Shut us out like Dad did when Mom died," I said, simply. "You know, I've never been one to listen really well and Dad understood and accepted that. Can you? I've accepted that I'll never be the 'perfect', creative, smart, or funny one but can you accept me for who I am?" To my amazement, he pulled me closer and I felt a slight dampness in my hair.

"I can accept it even though I'll never quite understand how you're so different from the rest of us," he said, softly.

"I have to be this way because unlike you old fogies, someone has to liven this place up and keep everyone sharp." Keeping my expression neutral, I carefully stepped away from him. He saw right through my expression and noticed the ornery glint in my eyes.

"Old fogies?" he repeated, taking a deep breath. "VIRGIL, GORDON, AND JOHN! GET IN HERE NOW!"

"Aww, hell, Scotty, I was only kidding," I babbled. "Can't you take a joke or has age robbed you of your sense of humor."

"Digging deeper, Allie," he warned, advancing on me. With a slight growl, he lunged at me and held me steady while giving me a noogie.

"I give, I give," I yelled. After a few seconds, he stopped but didn't release his support.

"I don't want you to be anyone other than my youngest brother, Alan Shepard Tracy, and even though you seem to thrive on arguing with anyone and everyone, I'd much rather have you as you are than to be something you're not."

"Yep, Scott isn't exactly my dad but he sure comes in a close second. Thanks, Dad, for letting me be comfortable with being myself and accepting me for who I am, Alan Shepard Tracy, youngest son and brother."