I'm baaaaaaack!

Hello to everyone!

After many months of settling into the life of a full time worker, I have finally managed to write another fic for you all! To celebrate, I have posted not one, but TWO chapters to start you off on this one.

Please review and let me know what you think. I'm a bit rusty with this so I'll be relying on you all for you thoughts.

Boann xx

"Dreaming men are haunted men." – Anon.

Chapter One

The day did not start with a dream. Rather it began with a water balloon, a door, and an unsuspecting Scott Tracy.

"Gordon!"

Alan smiled as he pulled a clean shirt over his head. "Yep, a normal day," he mused aloud. He opened his bedroom to stick his head out into the hallway. He wasn't stupid enough to step outside before checking that the coast was clear. His intelligence saved him from being bowled over by Gordon, who ran past with an ecstatic look on his face.

He was followed by Scott, who was covered in something green.

Something tells me that balloon had more than water in it, Alan couldn't help but grin.

He exchanged a look with John, who was standing in his bedroom doorway across the hall observing the scene with a sleepy but amused expression on his face. The two blonde brothers strode down the hall together, following the commotion. Virgil was nowhere to be seen, but that was normal too. Virgil wouldn't wake for the apocalypse if it started anytime before ten in the morning.

"What did Gordon do this time?" Alan asked as he and John trudged down the curved slope that was the staircase. Their dad had designed the house around the time Gordon was recovering from his hydro-foil accident. Gordon's paralysis, however temporary, had inspired Jeff to install the ramp instead of stairs.

John yawned. "I don't know. But I think I know how it's going to end."

Alan nodded knowingly just as an almighty splash came from outside.

"That's a new record," Alan laughed as they ran outside.

"Scott's getting faster," John agreed.

Their expectations didn't disappoint. Gordon was spluttering and floundering in the pool and Scott was standing triumphantly on the side.

"Don't blame me!" Gordon protested. "Dad told you that if you didn't eat your peas at dinner, you'd have them for breakfast!"

Scott put his hands on his hips. "Yeah, when I was five!"

"You know what government departments are like. The judicial system is always slow to issue punishment," Gordon replied cockily.

"About twenty years late, in this case," Scott hotly pointed out.

Gordon shrugged. "Better late than never."

"If you know as much as you seem to about capital punishment, you'll try very hard not to breach the restraining order I'm taking out on you!" Scott marched away.

Only when he disappeared into the house did John and Alan begin chuckling.

"You're telling me that green stuff's peas?" Alan asked Gordon.

Gordon easily pulled himself out of the pool with a grin. "With a little food colouring to add flavour," he said, picking up a towel that lay on one of the loungers and dabbing his face. "Though Scott won't realise until he showers."

"You'd better start running, boy," John shook his head, putting an arm around Alan's shoulders and steering him towards the house for breakfast.

Gordon followed, quickly drying himself and hanging the towel around his neck. "Ah, John," he sighed. "You have not been studying the bible as closely as you should. Remember the lessons of the saints. Lesson one, love and honour the Lord. Two, not even a threat against your life must cometh between you and Onaha's pancakes."

John and Alan laughed.

"Good morning," Onaha chirped from the kitchen. She pointed to the table, where three plates of steaming pancakes waited for them. "I made blueberry ones just for you, John."
John helped himself to a mug of coffee, shooting Onaha a winning Tracy smile. "Onaha, you're my angel."

Gordon shot Alan a dramatically besotted look as the two sat down to eat. Alan stifled a snort as John joined them.

"What's up, Alan?" John asked, suspiciously.

"Nothing," Alan shook his head.

"I think what meant was 'pass the syrup'" Gordon offered.

Alan couldn't mask his laugh this time.

"Good morning, boys!"

Their father's cheerful voice made them look up. Jeff, dressed in crisp white slacks and shirt and holding a mug of coffee that seemed to be fused to his hand, joined them at the table.

Saved, thought Alan.

Jeff thanked Onaha, who appeared with a plate for him, and proceeded to inspect his sons. "I notice some empty seats," he commented, tucking into his food.

"Virgil's still asleep," John informed him.

"Naturally," Jeff smiled. "Scott's not normally late, though. He'll be upset to know we're eating Onaha's pancakes without him."

"I'm sure he's green with envy," Gordon threw in, causing John and Alan to choke on their food.

Jeff's eyes swept them all knowingly. "I'm not going to ask," he said, raising his eyebrows at Gordon.

"Probably safer," agreed Gordon through a mouthful of pancakes.

"Speaking of safer," Alan said, finishing his breakfast. "I'd better go before Scott gets back down. I'm going to see what Fermat's up to. He seems to like that bug more than me these days."

"Do you think someone forgot to mention to him that studying the life of an insect over the holidays didn't require sitting next to the tank the whole time?" Gordon asked.

Obviously, Alan thought gloomily. But rather than sharing this thought, he smiled and did what friends do. "He doesn't sit there the whole time," he defended. "And besides, we all know how much Fermat wants that scholarship to go to Greenburg's Science Academy during the last two weeks of the summer. The competition's pretty high."

"If you ask me, the boy-genius erased all competition the day he was born," Gordon commented as Alan headed up-ramp to Fermat's room.

"He seems okay."

Jeff smiled. As soon as Alan disappeared, so did Gordon's game face. It had been many weeks since the Hood attacked Tracy Island. The spring break had come and gone and the new term had brought a lot of changes. Once the damage had been repaired and the demons had been vanquished, things had started to return to normal and even improve in some cases. Brains had created several engineering masterpieces to improve security on all the Thunderbirds. Alan's grades had greatly improved, as had his maturity and vision. The Tracy's had become even stronger as a family. Fermat and Tintin had grown too. Fermat had gained a new confidence and Tintin was constantly testing her skills under the guidance of Lady Penelope. She'd triumphantly beaten Scott at martial arts a few times now, much to the delight of Alan and Gordon.

However, one thing had not changed at all. Despite Alan's great term report and renewed enthusiasm, his brothers had remained watchful guardians of their little brother. Jeff wasn't sure if the summer holidays and Alan's subsequent presence at home would encourage the boys' protectiveness to ease or worsen.

"Of course he's fine," Jeff told Gordon. "He's a Tracy. You shouldn't be worried about him."

"Okay, that's unrealistic," Gordon rolled his eyes. "He's our little brother."

"And I know he'll always be," Jeff agreed. "But be careful. Despite your subtlety, he's not stupid. He knows you're keeping an eye on him. Just don't push too hard. Let him grow."

"At least we'll have the summer to spend some time together. It should help ease our worries," John commented, ever the diplomat.

"Tell that to Lady Greensleeves," Gordon jerked his head towards the first floor. "You know once he and the Doctor Dozy get started with their mother hen routine, there's no stopping them."

"Speaking of Scott, shouldn't you be gaining distance?" John pointed out.

"Gordon!"

They all jumped at Scott's bellow from above.

Gordon quickly stood. "That's my exit cue."

John and Jeff chuckled. "Surprising how quickly a fish can run," Jeff mused.

His brow furrowed as he leaned on the table, cupping his coffee with both hands. "So how is he?" he asked quietly.

John couldn't hide his smile. Jeff could preach all he wanted to about giving Alan space, but in reality, he was just as bad.

Shortly after Alan had returned, John had quietly revealed he'd heard noises coming from his little brother's room at night. It had become evident after a few nights that Alan was having nightmares. Being right across the hall from the youngest Tracy, John had heard everything.

Maybe not all of the demons have been banished, Jeff mused.

John had been keeping his father up to date on what he was hearing. And privately, the two of them had agreed to keep the secret lest the others frighten Alan with their smothering.

"Last night was quiet," John reported, softly. "I try to find the right time to talk to him about it. But I guess I'm just as scared to bring everything up again."

Jeff nodded, understanding. The attack had been hard on John too. Trapped in a burning space station for hours had left more scars than the injuries had. Jeff had been John's confidant during the aftermath. The two would often talk long into the night. Although the station had been repaired, Jeff was sure that some quality time with family would help prepare John to resume duty. Brains had been only too enthusiastic to spend some time at the station tweaking his latest creations. He'd even mentioned bringing Fermat up on the next supply run for some quality time together. Although the next supply run wasn't for another ten days, Jeff had heard that Fermat had already packed his bags.

John must have picked up on what he was thinking. "I'm ready to go back, Dad," he said surely. "But I want to make sure Alan's okay before I do. The attack made me realise how much I've been missing out on him growing up. I'd like to talk to him first."

Jeff smiled, putting a hand on John's shoulder. "Of course, son."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Fermat!"

Unresponsive to the call of his name, Fermat shifted to the edge of his seat to more closely inspect the eight-legged insect. His nose almost touched the glass tank set neatly on his desk. This was no 'bug-in-an-ice-cream-container' project. This was Fermat Hackenbacker's project. He had specifically designed the environment inside the specialised tank to mimic the insect's natural habitat. A blue, fluorescent tube suspended inside the tank offered the right mix of light and heat that was, again, an imitation of the island's climate. From a small control box, Fermat adjusted the settings as required. Perched on a branch within the impressive home sat a spider. It was no bigger than Fermat's palm, with long spindly brown legs wrapped in thin yellow bands. Fermat grinned as the spider began to delicately move off the branch and into a cluster of leaves it seemed to favour during the day.

"In…in….amazing," he murmured to himself, making a note of it in his notepad. "It's f…f…"

"Fermat!"

Fermat nearly whacked his head against the tank when he jumped. Alan had two volumes; loud and louder. But no matter how well Fermat knew that, the boisterous blonde always managed to catch him off-guard. Fermat turned to smile at his best friend, who stood in the doorway of his room. Alan's expression was mixture of amusement and exasperation.

Alan grinned, joining Fermat next to the tank. "You know it's considered unhealthy for you to enjoy homework," he said.

Fermat poked him with his pencil. "I'm t…t…attempting to identify its species," he explained.

"Wait, you went into the jungle and brought home an unknown species of spider?" Alan asked incredulously. "What if it's poisonous?"

"According to my ob…ob…examinations of the specimen, it doesn't appear to have the physical characteristics of a p...p…venomous species," Fermat pushed his glasses higher up his nose and leaned over to again inspect the tank.

"If you say so," Alan shrugged, leaning down with him. "Just promise me you won't stick your hand in there until you know for sure."

Fermat gave him an expression that said 'duh!'

"So where is it, anyway?" Alan squinted.

Fermat pointed to where the spider was nestled within a cocoon of leaves. Alan nodded, grimacing at the sight of the ferocious insect. Science experiment or not, spiders still freak me out.

"Great," he mused distastefully. "Well, as much as I'd love to hang out here in your dark room…"

"The spider seems to be more active during the night," Fermat explained. "I'm s…s…gradually trying to mimic this condition, but it doesn't appear to be easily c…c…fooled."

"Right," Alan cringed. "So I guess there's no chance you'd fancy coming outside? I'm going to challenge Gordon to a game of volleyball."

"N…n…perhaps this afternoon," his friend replied, still focused. "Thanks anyway."

Alan sighed and straightened. "Well, if you're sure."

Fermat nodded.

Disappointed, Alan went back to his room to change into a pair of swim shorts and grab a towel. Upon going downstairs, he saw that Virgil was awake and sitting at the kitchen bench, talking with Onaha.

Virgil shot him a smile. "Morning, kiddo!"

Alan looked at his watch. "8:55? That's got to be a record, Virg."

Virgil laughed. "Alright, I've had enough from Gordon already."

"I take it he's managed to avoid the green monster?"

Virgil laughed again. "If you're referring to Scott, then yeah. Gordon's been lucky so far."

Alan looked around. "Where is he?"

"Gordon?" Virgil raised his eyebrows. "He's in the pool. I think he believes being in the pool now erases any chance of Scott throwing him in it later."

Alan smiled, going outside to find that Virgil was right. Gordon was treading water, grinning at Scott, who had positioned himself on a lounger between the pool and the entrance to the house. It was stake-out.

This isn't healthy, Alan mused. He dumped his towel and grabbed the volleyball. "Why don't we settle this with a game?" he proposed.

"Love to, sprout," Gordon smiled, holding out his hands to catch the ball Alan threw. "That's if princess here can handle getting his toes wet."

He lobbed the ball at Scott, who caught it without flinching. Alan noticed that Scott's hair and neck were tinged green. "That is a good suggestion in theory," Scott replied. "But we don't have even numbers."

Alan craned his head towards the house. "Virg!" he called.

"Yeah, I heard!" came the reply. Virgil trudged out, pulling off his shirt.

Scott and Alan erected the volleyball net.

Gordon examined Virgil grudgingly. "Have you waited an hour after eating?" he asked suspiciously.

Virgil ignored him, stepping into the pool and dunking himself. Scott and Alan unceremoniously jumped in. Scott swam to Virgil's side, holding the ball.

"Ready?" he asked, preparing his fist.

"Why do I get the feeling we've been dragged into the snake pit?" Virgil asked Alan as Scott pelted the ball at Gordon.

An hour later, Scott's serving arm hadn't tired and Gordon was beginning to show signs of defeat.

"Scott, maybe you should take a break. Sure your old bones aren't weary by now?" he moaned.

Virgil chuckled. Poking those kinds of jokes meant that the swimmer knew he was doomed. And Virgil didn't blame him. Nobody could match Scott's serve.

And Scott knew it. "Don't worry, Gordo," he grinned. "Afterwards we can go and get you an ice-cream."

Gordon scowled. He served the ball over the net. Scott sent it flying back with his fist. It headed to Alan's side. The teen jumped to the side of the pool to intercept it, at the same time Gordon leapt to the same spot.

"Got it!" they both yelled.

Gordon's hand sent the ball back over, but on the way his elbow caught the side of Alan's head. Alan went down with an "oof!", banging his head against the pool wall as he sunk.

"Alan!" Virgil called as his little brother resurfaced, coughing and holding his head.

He swam under the net and over to Alan. "Hey, you okay?"

Alan nodded, still holding his head where it had struck the wall. He turned and climbed out of the pool, muttering, "I'm fine."

Scott clipped the back of Gordon's head as Alan grabbed his towel and disappeared into the house. "Nice work!"

"It was accident!" Gordon defended. "If you hadn't hit it so hard…"

Virgil left them to their bickering and climbed out, grabbing his own towel and heading up to Alan's room, where the teenager had no doubt retreated.

He knocked on the door, securing his towel around his hips. When he received no reply, he walked in, only to see an empty room.

He found Alan in the bathroom, holding his towel to his head.

Alan's eyes flicked towards him, but he didn't move.

"It's fine," he assured, his voice a little shaky. "Just caught me by surprise, that's all."

Despite his brother's assurance, Virgil held out his hand for the towel. Alan grudgingly obliged, revealing a bloody cut on his left temple.

Alan leant back against the vanity. "It looks worse than it is," he rambled. "It's just messy. You know how superficial head wounds can be."

Virgil discarded the towel and held up his hands. "Alan," he said, snapping his brother out of it. "Take it easy. I'm not going to bite," he chuckled.

Alan let out a harsh breath and seemed to settle a bit.

Probably suffering a bit of shock, Virgil mused as he examined the wound.

Alan tensed unconsciously under his brother's probing fingers. It wasn't that he was uncomfortable with Virgil touching him. But it was sometimes hard not to feel stupid when you were your brother's patient.

"No need for stitches," Virgil told him. "I'll get you a cold pack. You settle yourself down somewhere and take it easy."

Alan nodded as his brother held up two fingers.

"How many? Virgil asked.

Alan squinted, keeping a straight face. "I think…twenty nine!"

Virgil smiled and gave him a poke as he left.

Alan went back into his room for some fresh clothes. Sometimes being the patient can be fun.