They really did have intentions to go to the museum.
Lucy-Jane and Alan walked down the Boston streets, their height difference evident. The sun shone off their blond hair, brightening the color. Many people recognized Alan Tracy, son of ex-astronaut and current millionaire Jeff Tracy, but the girl he was talking and laughing along with they did not recognize. And that was giving the two a lot of attention.
"Sorry about this," Alan said, as a non-inconspicuous person walked by and snapped a photo of the pair on his smartphone.
Lucy-Jane shrugged, the attention not really affecting her. At least this time people weren't staring at her for her eyes. "No biggie. Just get ready to reassure your girl that nothing happened."
Alan laughed. "You think I have a girl?" he asked.
"At least ten actually attractive women have walked by here and you haven't even glanced at their direction," Lucy-Jane told him. "So, what's her name?"
Alan's smile softened. "Tin-Tin," he said. "She lives on the island with us. Her father is like the caregiver of the island. My brothers don't know yet, we don't actually know what we're doing. It's complicated."
"Tin-Tin," Lucy-Jane said, repeating the name. "I bet she's nice. She sounds pretty too."
"How would you even know that?"
"Because you like her. And you don't seem like the type of guy who would like someone who isn't nice. And Tin-Tin is a pretty name, Southeast Asian? They're generally pretty people, but now I'm just making assumptions. Do you love her? Oh did you two grow up on your island and fall in love?"
Alan's face turned red from the question. "What about you?" He asked, changing the subject. "You and Milo one of those childhood sweetheart pairs that went to college and are going to get married?"
Lucy-Jane blushed and shook her head. "Oh no. Milo and I were friends and just got better in age. We didn't actually get together till the summer before Junior year in college. He was actually kind of a jerk in those middle school ages. My rabbit, Mo, he had her decapitated by some of the other older kids who were huge bullies. I was so mad and sad and angry that I almost dropped him as a friend. One day, he shows up to my room and he's beaten up. There's blood on his face, his eye is swollen and he looks angry. He drops this stuffed rabbit on the ground and says "Here. It's not Mo" and walks away." She recalls the memory fondly. "And we're not getting married. I don't think Milo is the marry kind of person and I think we're good this way. As long as I have Milo I don't really need the court." Alan couldn't really read her to see if she was lying or how confident she was about what she was saying.
Before he could say anything, a fire truck passed them at full speed. Then another one. And then an ambulance. Then three more and a handful of police cars. They turned to look at each other for a second before breaking out into a run in the same direction. When they finally came upon the accident site, they stopped. One of the bridges had collapsed onto the tunnel.
"This is what Milo means about not doing anything dangerous," Lucy-Jane said as she pulled her hair up into a ponytail. "I know I'm technically on your clock..." she trailed off, turning to Alan who was technically paying for her services for the day. But if he hadn't, she would be here anyway, working to save these people.
Alan was pushing up his sleeves. "Then I guess we better get to work," he told her. "Lead the way."
"You are officially the coolest boss ever," Lucy-Jane told him with a grin before turning serious and running into the field. "Edward hand me a kit," she yelled to one of the guys getting off the ambulance closest to them.
"Lucy-Jane you're supposed to be on private detail," Edward told her, looking her over in street clothes.
"Private detail," she said pointing to Alan. "Now hand me a kit. Don't make me ask again," she said rather menacing. Any other occasion the guy would have said no and taken her 5'4" wrath, but they needed all hands on deck. He grabbed his bag and threw it at her. "Good. Radio me in, let them know I'm on scene. Come on," she motioned for Alan to follow her, working her way deeper into the disaster. "Don't bother with these victims, they're walking and making their way to the rigs. They'll get the help they need. We have to worry about the people that haven't come out yet."
Alan nodded, knowing what she was talking about. They got the first car where the firemen were working to remove the door from the crushed car. "Lucy-Jane," one of the firemen started, ready to tell her to back away since she wasn't in uniform. She set her jaw and gave him an icy glare. "Male victim, unresponsive. Legs are trapped under the car," he said instead. "Who's the kid? What's his training?"
"A friend," Alan said quickly. "First aid, emergency response," he added.
"Pupils dilated. Head wound, visible lacerations," Lucy-Jane said aloud. She turned to Alan. "You can do stats?" He nodded. "Awesome. Here's a marker, triage these people. B/P, names, injuries, etc." She handed him a marker and some supplies. "If they're DOA black tag them. Can you do this?"
Alan nodded, amazed by her command and clarity. It almost felt like he was on the field listening to Scott give commands, so much so that he almost responded FAB. "Try not get me in trouble with Milo," he said instead and took the gear and went off to do what he was told.
Fifteen minutes in, things turned. The majority of people had either been evacuated, taken to hospitals for treatment or dead. Alan and Lucy-Jane meet, both tired from the rush that had just happened. Both of their clothes were dirty, blood that wasn't there staining shirts and pants. "Better or worse than the museum?" Lucy-Jane asked, handing Alan her water bottle. He didn't answer, taking large gulps of water. He was exhausted. Usually, he wouldn't be tired, but his aplastic anemia had him drained to start with.
"LUCILLE," someone shouted, making her turn and glare.
"WHAT," she shouted back, heading over to where a group of firemen and EMTs stood around a collapsed group of rocks.
"She's the only one that can fit in there," one of the firemen argued. "She's the perfect size."
"We're not sending her in. She's not even in uniform. There's no way to tell if it's even stable," Edward argued.
"What's not stable?" Lucy-Jane asked.
"There's a kid in the car," the fireman said before anyone else could tell her. "Eleven years, unconscious. He's trapped in the back of this car," he pointed to the hood of the vehicle, barely visible under the rocks. "There's a gap wide enough for someone to crawl in through the side and see if he's alive. If he is, we need someone to keep him stable while move the debris. If he's not, we have to move on to another part of the bridge."
"The debris isn't stable enough," Edward told her. "You go in there and the whole thing can collapse, killing both of you. And if you get in and his injuries are too severe you won't be able to treat him. We've already sent for the doctor field team, they'll know what to do better than you." He winced then, realizing his mistake in insinuating that Lucy-Jane was incompetent.
"Give me a kit and a radio," Lucy-Jane said. "The docs can handle anything I couldn't when they get their lazy butts here." She redid her ponytail. She slung the pack across her chest and clipped the walkie-talkie to her belt. She walked over the space before anyone could stop her. She saw what they meant about it small but large enough for her small frame to go through. "Nobody tell Milo about this," she warned her friends and co-workers. There were a couple of chuckles and she looked at Alan. She gave him an apologetic grin, to which he gave a nervous yet reassuring one. Then she disappeared into the dark space. The emergency response team held with bated breaths, listening for her voice to go through the radio. "I'm in the fucking car," Lucy-Jane cursed. "A flashlight and heads up that the fucking window wasn't cleaned out would have been fucking great."
"You alright Lucy-Jane?" Edward asked, waiting for her. A curssing Lucy-Jane usually meant things were not alright.
"Just dandy," she muttered back. "Milo is going to kill me when he finds out. Alright, kid is alive. Visible lacerations from the seatbelt. No visible head trauma, stable breathing, heartbeat is a little low but not dangerous. Tried to wake him but no good. Guys, this kids should be awake."
The group exchanged looks with one another, wondering what was wrong. Then it hit Alan so fast that he cursed. He took the radio. "Is the car still running?" he asked. Someone in the group cursed and started giving out orders.
"Fuck yes," Lucy-Jane muttered. "How the fuck is a car still running after being smashed. We've been here almost twenty minutes; this car is becoming a greenhouse for the gasses. This kid is being poisoned, it's a miracle he's still alive."
"Lucille-Jane, get out of there," Edward told her. "For the first time in your life listen to me and get out of there."
"There's no way I'm leaving this kid behind Edward. With the window smashed the gases should be leaving."
"Oh yeah. How lightheaded are you feeling?" Edward dared, as the firemen got to removing the debris. Alan stood anxious, waiting for her response. "Lucille," Edward said again angrily into the walkie-talkie.
"I'm fine," Lucy-Jane responded. "Starting oxygen through the bag for the kid," she said.
"Use it too," Edward instructed. There wasn't a response, since she was probably using both hands. He turned to Alan. "We need a plan. We can't get oxygen to them from risk of having it blow from the cars."
"We need to send someone else in there," Alan said. "Get the kid out. Once he's out she'll follow."
"She barely fit. Find me someone just as short as her working this field," Edward muttered. Alan looked around, realizing that most of the emergency personnel was on the taller side. "All we can do is wait for these guys to open the space wide enough and pray that it all doesn't collapse."
"We're coming out. Get ready to pull this kid out," Lucy-Jane's voice was coming through the radio and with confused looks, Alan and Edward walked over to the small opening. They flashed light into the dark space to see Lucy-Jane crouching and pulling this kid almost her size out of the car.
"How does she think she's going to push him through this? She wiggled herself in there."
"I can hear you," Lucy-Jane replied, though the softness of her voice was evident. She heaved the kid onto her back and half crawled/half-dragged her and kid to the entrance. It wasn't too far, but enough that by the time she got to the opening she was tired. Lucy-Jane set the kid down and her alongside him.
"We're going to try and get this hole wider Lucy," Edward told her. "Till then you're going to have to stay put. We'll get you an oxygen mask or something." He turned to Alan and lowered his voice slightly. "Keep her awake," he stated before leaving.
"How much trouble am I going to be in with Milo?" Alan asked once it was just the three of them. Lucy-Jane chuckled at the question.
"You'll be fine. It's me I'm worried about," Lucy-Jane told him. "I bet he saw the collapse on TV, he'll be calling my phone, but I left it at home. I only have my beeper with me. Sorry we didn't get to go to the museum."
"Nah, this was much better," Alan reassured her. "The exhibits mostly about my dad anyway. And I live with him so I can basically hear about it whenever."
"You have four older brothers right?" Lucy-Jane asked, her voice tired as she closed her sleepy heavy eyes for a moment.
"Yup: Scott, John, Virgil and Gordon," Alan responded. He waited for Lucy-Jane to ask a question, and when he didn't he flashed the flashlight light around until it hit her face. "Hey stay awake," he said, keeping it there till she opened her eyes.
"Sorry," she muttered. "Is it nice? Having so many brothers?" she asked. "I always imagined it would be nice to be a part of a big family. I love Milo, he's my family, but a real one would have been nice." The drowsiness in her voice was evident and it made Alan frown. He remembered her being an orphan, and what Milo was saying about Lucy-Jane caring too deeply. The gas poisoning was making her tired, which led to her having her guard down.
"Yeah it's nice sometimes," Alan replied after some time. "Sometimes my brothers smoother me because I'm the youngest, but I know it's because they really care. And growing up it meant I always had someone to play with."
"That must have been nice. When I was little, I remember having dreams that I had brothers too, but none of them knew my name and I didn't know theirs. Isn't that weird?" Lucy-Jane asked.
"Yeah, just a little," Alan grinned. "Can I ask you what it was like for you? Growing up?"
Lucy-Jane sighed but nodded, and started the tale of her life.
"So you made dad take you too?" John asked Scott over the airplane's radio. The eldest Tracy son was piloting the jet while his father was doing business in the back of the plane. John had radioed in to keep Scott company since it was a slow day on the International Rescue side of business. For now anyway.
"I want to check in on Alan," Scott told his blond brother. "Besides, Virgil sent in the files for this year's fellowships."
"And you're hoping Maggie will give you a run through of all the candidates again?" John asked through his laughter. "This will be the third year you basically have her pick your recipient. That's not fair Scotty, the rest of us have to do all the work."
"I do not have her pick. I just get her input," Scott said, glad that his brother couldn't see him turn red in the face. "Anyway tell me what you've learned about this Lucille-Jane person," he said, changing the subject.
"Lucille-Jane Williams, like to be called Lucy-Jane," John started, knowing what Scott was doing. "Born March 13 2044, at 12:08 am at St. Luke's Kansas City hospital. Her birth certificate says she was born to a Crystal Williams, who died during childbirth, no father on the certificate. Lucy-Jane was born a month premature and had to be in the PICU for a couple of weeks until she was released to the state of Missouri.
She was placed in a foster-home for almost a year until she had breathing complications that doctors believe to be a side effect from her birth and had to be hospitalized for three weeks. The family didn't take her back after that. She was in another foster-home for two years, and the adoption papers were going through but the family backed out at the last minute. She spent the next half-year at a girl's home that was geared towards much older girls and then nine-months with another family until they had their first child and opted out of fostering. That's three families and one home in the first four years of her life. After that it's pretty much the same thing till she turns sixteen. She gets placed in a group home, this one is co-ed and ranges in ages and she stays there. There are a couple families that foster her, some give her back or she's pulled out of, others she runs away from."
"She sounds like a typical delinquent foster-kid," Scott interrupted, not sure how this girl was supposed to donate marrow to his baby brother.
"On the contrary," John says. "She's got no record to begin with. Actually the only things in her files are those runaway incidents, and they belong to families that the state later took fostering power from. She's a smart kid, high test scores. A private school accepted her into their high school program, full ride. They actually co-signed her apartment and helped her get emancipated. She graduated fourth in her class, but she tested better than everyone, Presidential Scholar, National Merit finalist, etc. She went to Boston College on a full ride and graduated Cum Lada with a double degree in International Relations and International Development and minors in Econ and Anatomy."
"And she's a paramedic?" Scott asked, remembering what Virgil had told them.
"Yeah. She was actually in the college program and was hired by the city before she even graduated Boston College."
"Any medical complications or diseases?" Scott asked, not wanting to sound impressed even though he was.
"Possible respiratory issues but non-related or affecting bone marrow. She has central heterochromia, but that doesn't affect anything. She and Alan actually have a lot in common medically; allergies to penicillin and nuts. Born premature, double jointed thumbs."
"Them and a majority of people," Scott scoffed at his brother. "What's the heterochromia?"
"Oh that just means that the center of her eye, around the pupils, it's a different color than the rest of her eye. It's like when people have mismatched eyes."
"Oh, that's kind of cool," Scott said. "Do you have a picture? In case we run into her in Boston."
"Yeah. I'll email it you and dad. I gotta go, I'm supposed to conference into the Tokyo meeting in like ten minutes. Let me know when you guys touchdown in Boston."
"FAB Johnny."
In the back of the plane, Jeff Tracy listened quietly to the loud conversation his sons were having. He had an uncomfortable feeling within him, one entwined with thoughts he thought he'd stored away forever with the secrets he knew.
His phone dinged with an incoming email and a glance down he saw it was from John. With a held breath, he opened it and waited for the picture to download.
If Jeff Tracy hadn't already been sitting, he would have collapsed at the driver license picture in front of him. He didn't look at the eyes, the ones that always caught everyone else's attention, he looked at everything else. He knew that face, everything about that face was ingrained forever in his mind and his heart.
A/N: Sorry this one is a little on the longer side. I thought I'd throw in some action so the story didn't get dull while showing my main girl in action.
Thanks to everyone who's read the story so far and continued with it! You guys are the real MVPs here.
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