Consequences

Chapter Three

By Spense

Alan had an unfortunate habit of always managing to be in the worst place at the worst time. He knew it, and worst of all, his family knew it. One more way to always screw up, as Alan mentally put it.

So it was no surprise to Alan to find himself in a car, riding with the assistant PE coach to the hospital after he was piled into one afternoon during a soccer game. The pile up managed to send him head first into the goal post, ringing his bell pretty hard. The coach had decided he needed to be checked out, hence the trip.

The kids placed at Wharton Academy were there via the exorbitant fees paid by their parents, and thus, the best care and security was given to all. After all, who wanted to hurt the cash cow?

It wasn't long before Alan found himself in bed for a night of observation, after being diagnosed with a mild concussion.

"Try to get some sleep, Alan," the nurse said cheerfully. "We'll have to wake you up occasionally, I'm afraid, but I'd still like you to get some sleep."

"Okay," Alan replied. Frankly sleep sounded good. His head was pounding.

"We've called your dad. He should be along in a few hours."

"Dad's coming?" Alan said, surprised.

"Certainly," the nurse smiled. "Did you think he wouldn't?"

Well in a normal world, a parent would certainly come. But this was his family, and International Rescue always came first. Heaven forbid that the island was left without it's commander. But that wasn't something he felt like going into with a stranger, so he just shrugged non-committaly.

She grinned back, amused, and told him again to go to sleep, then left the room.

Left in the quiet, with the muffled sounds of the hospital coming from the closed door of his private room, Alan reflected again on her comment. A normal world, with normal parents. Not his world.

Most parents didn't shovel their kids off to a boarding school to get them out of the way to peruse their dream. Most kids didn't cause a huge fight between their parents just for being on the way. And it didn't help that there was five years between himself and Gordon. That made Alan a liability. Gordon was at least of an age that could allow him to work in IR. Not so Alan. He had at least another four years before he was useful and not a waste of time.

Alan's lips tightened as he gazed out the window. No use. That was the story of his life. Just when he thought things had gotten better, he was put right back in his place.

'Ignore them. You're better off on your own,' his mind whispered to him. There was some truth in that.

Alan didn't realize that he'd fallen to sleep until he woke to a mild, quiet commotion in his room. Opening his eyes, he saw Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward standing at the window talking to the nurse.

"No, no, Jeff couldn't get away. Business you know. So he asked me to come," she was saying.

As Alan was registering her comments, she turned and saw he was awake.

"Alan! How are you feeling?" She asked as she moved towards him, sitting down in the chair next to the bed. She looked the same as always. Beautiful, and in pink, as usual.

Alan was awake enough to feel some resentment, carefully hidden. Once again, foisted off to whoever was available.

"Hi Lady P," he said quietly. "I'm fine, I guess."

"I'll leave you then," the nurse said, and then headed towards the door.

"Thank you," Penelope said over her shoulder cheerfully.

"Let me know if you need anything."

"We will." As soon as the woman was out of the room and the door was closed, Penny turned to Alan with an exaggerated sigh of relief. "Good. Now, then, we can talk. Your father hated to not be able to come, but there was an oil well fire in the middle east and all hands were needed, so he asked me if I could come."

Figured, Alan thought. Same old, same old. It wasn't hard to see what was truly important to his father. He just shrugged.

Penny's bright, enthusiastic expression didn't change. "Well, I'm sure you're not feeling all that well. Why don't you go back to sleep? Jeff said he'd call as soon as he could, and I know you'll want to be awake enough to talk to him."

Alan just nodded. Avoiding the issue was working a whole lot better than direct confrontation, he'd noticed over the last several weeks. He intended to keep it up. Besides, sleeping was a great way to check out for awhile.

Penny's bright smile faded as he dropped off to sleep. Jeff had told her that Alan had withdrawn, but she had found that hard to believe. Exuberant Alan? Not a chance. But now she'd seen it for herself. Sitting back in her chair and picking up her magazine, she tried hard to convince herself that it was the resulting headache that was causing him to act that way.

TB TB TB TB TB

" . . . No, no, I think he's fine. Just a headache . . . no, he's asleep."

Alan woke to see that the morning sun was shining through the window, the bright spring light casting distinct shadows on the floor. From where he was, lying on his side, he could see the leaf patterns clearly. As he began to focus, he could hear Penny's voice speaking quietly.

"Oh! No, he's just waking up . . . yes, I'll see."

The next thing Alan knew, Penny was sitting next to him, rubbing his shoulder. "Good morning, darling. Your father's on the vid phone and is desperate to speak with you."

Alan just looked at her solemnly, not completely awake, but just enough to feel resentment. It was always about his dad.

"Hi Alan," Jeff's smiling face was apparent in the small screen of the handheld vidphone Penny held. Alan was just awake enough to see that his father was covered in soot and ash, and was apparently in the cockpit of Thunderbird Two.

"Hi," Alan managed to croak, then stopped to clear this throat and rub his eyes, trying desperately to wake up.

"How are you feeling, son?" Jeff asked in sympathy. "I understand you hit your head pretty hard."

"Uh-huh," Alan managed to respond. He really just wanted to go back to sleep.

"Head still hurt?"

"Uh-huh."

"It must," came Gordon's voice from the background. "That's the fewest words I've ever heard Alan say, ever."

Virgil laughed. "Normally you can't shut him up. Hope you feel better soon, Sprout!"

Jeff laughed at the sally. "I'll let you go back to sleep, Alan. I'm sorry I can't be there. Let Penny know if you need anything."

"'kay," Alan replied, and let his eyes slide shut, resentment building once again. He could hear Penny talking softly to his father in the background as she asked about the fire. As usual, he was bottom of the list.

'See how easy they are all together, going out on rescues?' his mind whispered to him. 'You're just the cog in the wheel. The fly in the ointment. The one trouble spot.'

"Shut up," Alan mumbled to himself.

"Alan?" Penny's voice rose in inquiry. "Did you say something?"

"Uh-uh," Alan mumbled, desperately seeking sleep once again - to shut out the voices in his head, the conversation between Penny and his father, and the picture of harmony between his father and brothers that made him feel so far apart from everything. For once, fate obliged him, and he slipped into oblivion.