Disclaimer: We didn't create them nor do we own them. The Tracys, International Rescue, and the Thunderbirds are the creation of Gerry Anderson.

A/N: We know that you missed the torture that we've been inflicting on the Tracys and rest assured we aren't finished yet. This update is dedicated to Kier as he is a bit under the weather but continues to be supportive of our various stories. Thanks, Kier, for your support. We love ya and hope you feel better soon. Lissysue and Sam

Chapter 10

With his son's words replaying in his head, Jeff followed the stone path that was surrounded by plants and flowers native to the island. The path and calming surroundings circled in on itself until reaching the center of the garden. Kyrano had designed the garden and had placed a comfortable bench in the middle for any of the Island inhabitants to use when they were in need of peace and solitude. Jeff knew that each of his sons all had their own place to go to when needed but this had always been the perfect place for him.

The light scent of lavender mixed in with the other light scents of the various flowers reminded him of Lucy. And he realized that he came to this particular garden not only for its calming affect but also because it reminded him of her. The bench sat near a tree with the sunlight filtering through the leaves, casting a pattern of shadow and light.

Not one to give into thoughts of whimsy, Jeff couldn't help but think that the shadow and light represented his thoughts. The shadow represented his insecurities and fears that he'd not been as good of a father as he wanted to be. And the light represented his focus and drive that sometimes kept others from feeling the pain that he and his boys had felt when Lucy had died. As well as the pride he felt for each of his sons as they continued to achieve what they wanted in life.

Thinking about his sons reminded him of why he was out here and he again felt the pain in Virgil's whispered confession. "How could I have done that to my son? How could I have kept him from remembering his mother in the manner that meant the most to him? Holding his head in his hands, he didn't try to hold back the tears that pooled in his eyes. He could drop his guard here and let his emotions out.

Leaning back against the bench, his mind flashed with memories of Virgil. Glimpses of Virgil, with shoulders slumped, walking away from Lucy's piano. Snatches of conversations in which he forbade his son the things that brought him some happiness in the days, years after his mother's death. As bad as those memories were, they paled in comparison to all the times Virgil was ignored. The times that Jeff looked right over him but never failing to make eye or physical contact with his other sons. The tears he'd been holding back found the opening they needed and poured from his eyes.

Glancing towards the heavens, he spoke to the one he still missed even after all these years. "Lucy, how could I have done that to him? I neglected our son after you were taken from us."

Unobserved, eyes that held the wisdom of the ages watched as guilt, grief, and loss battered the man sitting on the bench. It was rare to see his employer...his friend drowning in his emotions but he also knew it was a long time coming and maybe some old ghosts could finally be laid to rest. Finally, unable to continue to observe one hurting as Jeff was, he approached him as he always did, quietly and with a refined demeanor borne from being a manservant for many years.

Silently, he moved closer to Jeff but stopped a few feet from him and turned away, as if not noticing the tears that still coursed down the broken man's face. Breathing in deeply, the heavenly scents surrounded him and he sighed. He leaned over one of the many flowers and carefully picked a single stem with a full blossom. Then in his quiet yet wise manner, he spoke. "Such a beautiful flower, is it not? One would not guess the difficulties that it faced growing here. Yet, through storms and high temperatures, it has bloomed into a colorful and hardy flower. Much like your sons, I would think, Mr. Tracy."

Jeff jumped slightly, wiping his face with a handkerchief that he had pulled from his pocket. "Ah, um, Kyrano, I didn't realize that you were here."

Casting his gaze towards the sunlight filtering through the leaves of the trees, Kyrano gave his friend the illusion of privacy so that he could gather himself. "There is much confusion, guilt, hurt, anger, and worry within the villa and within our hearts. Some of it old yet deeply buried. Whilst some manages to be old but drawn to the surface and in need of being faced. The rest will settle down in time. How you face each part determines how your family responds."

Gently holding the flower between his hands, his wizened face showed compassion and understanding. "Listen and grow and your sons will follow." Standing up, he turned to Jeff, "Continue to bury old wounds and the anger and hurt that each feels has the potential to destroy your life as you know it." Laying the flower down next to Jeff, Kyrano left as quietly and unobtrusively as he arrived. Jeff stared at the flower for a moment before picking it up. Studying it, he thought of the parallels that Kyrano had pointed out. And then he saw the flower as a symbolic representation of his family. His sons had matured into fine young men despite the loss of their mother. They overcame their grief and followed their heart as she would have wanted them to. Their grief was their shared adversity just as the flower and others like it overcame the weather extremes to flourish. Now was the time for Jeff to decide if he would continue to help his sons by correcting mistakes he'd made or letting them flounder and shoving their emotions deep within themselves.

Decisively, the self-made billionaire knew what needed to be done. Something he should have done years ago. "First things first, I'm going to have a long overdue chat with Virgil and then the others too. I owe them all an apology for everything that happened after Lucy died." Feeling more at peace then he had all day, he headed back into the villa and down to find his sons.

5…4…3…2…1…Thunderbirds are GO!

Showered and dressed, Alan left his room. He didn't want to put off talking to his next oldest brother. As if sensing this, Gordon suddenly appeared from outside. Stopping short of each other, the red haired brother stared at his younger blonde haired brother.

For a few moments before either spoke. Finally Alan broke the silence, "I'm sorry for yelling at you Gordon," he began.

Before he could say anymore Gordon jumped in, "its okay Al, you don't have to apologise."

Holding up his hand, Alan stubbornly shook his head. "Yes I do. I had no right to take my anger out on you. All you were doing was checking on me and I snapped at you."

"Seriously Al, it's okay. We're all a little stressed today and taking it out on each other," he said, remembering the run in with Scott earlier.

Not willing to be swayed from his argument, Alan shook his head again. "That's the problem, Gordy, we shouldn't be taking our anger out on one another. We're supposed to be working together to help Johnny."

Gordon nodded and then grinned at his younger brother. "So, why don't we be the first to stop it then? Prove we are actually the mature ones in this family."

Unable to keep from snickering, Alan shot an incredulous look at his prankster of a brother. "Man, you have got to stop breathing in the pool chemicals. There is no way that our brothers will ever see us as the mature people we are but as their little annoying brothers."

"You're probably right," said Gordon, slinging his arm around his brother. "But then we know better," he added with a grin. Alan couldn't help but return the ornery grin as he knew the moment that Gordon had slung his arm around him and grinned that someone was going to be tormented by the Terrible Two. That was just one reason why it was impossible for him to stay angry or even sad when Gordon was around. Well, not just him but their other brothers as well.