FUGUE
A Thunderbirds story in five parts
By Spense
Disclaimer: Don't own them, just borrowing, not making money . . . etc.
Note: Thanks to Boomercat for allowing me to bounce ideas off of her and for her beta work, and to Lynn for the fine editing job.
SUMMARY: TV-Verse. A catastrophic watershed event in the lives of the Tracyfamily causes each to re-examine their relationship with the others, and how much they take for granted. (Please see authors note at the end of this piece for some necessary explanations.)
Fugue:
1: a dreamlike state of altered consciousness that may last for hours or days 2: a musical form consisting of a theme repeated a fifth above or a fourth below its first statement
Music. An imitative polyphonic composition in which a theme or themes are stated successively in all of the voices of the contrapuntal structure.
In music, a fugue is a type of piece written in counterpoint for several independent musical voices. A fugue begins with its subject (a brief musical theme) stated by one of the voices playing alone. A second voice then enters and plays the subject, while the first voice continues on with a contrapuntal accompaniment. Then the remaining voices similarly enter one by one. The remainder of the fugue further develops the material using all of the voices. (From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia)
PART ONE
PRELUDE TO A SONG
INTRO (Present Time)Alan Tracy drove. He drove hard. He took the 8 out of San Diego, hit the open stretches of unrelieved desert and stepped onto the accelerator. The highly-tuned sports car answered his call, jumping forward at still greater speeds. Alan drove right on the edge of control. Or, as his oldest brother would say, just like normal.
Only now, Alan drove as though the demons of hell were on his heels. And in a sense they were. Everything in his life had completely fallen apart. This year had been both wonderful and horrible. The best had happened – he and TinTin had finally been married. They had finally done it, with the total blessing of his own family and Kyrano both, and lots of 'you waited long enough' type comments.
However, their happiness was marred by ongoing and escalating rows with his father. They had begun long before he and TinTin had married. Oh, it had all started innocently enough when he had returned from NASA to join International Rescue, already in operation, but had grown in strength and frequency since then. It was inevitable, he supposed, that it would happen.
Alan had figured that when he came home from NASA, he would be treated like an adult, like his brothers. Unfortunately, it was apparent almost immediately to Alan that once the baby of the family, always the baby. But Alan wasn't content with that. He never had been. And now he began to fight to recognized as an individual in the family in his own right. Not just the baby of the family, the impetuous one, the irresponsible one. He knew for a fact that he was more volatile than his brothers. So it was inevitable that the results would be somewhat explosive.
He knew his family loved him. He'd never doubted that. But he wanted them to respect him as well. And he was at a complete loss on how to earn that. He just couldn't seem to do anything right, just couldn't compete. All the character traits that were seen as wonderful in his older brothers seemed to be cause for censure in him. Scott's decisiveness was seen as being opinionated when applied to him. When he was quiet, like John, it was perceived as sulking. He just couldn't win, and he just didn't know what to do anymore. TinTin was his ally in this war of wills. She loved his family as much as he did – they were hers as well. But she'd understood his frustration when nobody else could – or would. She had told him that she would back him in whatever he chose to do.
Alan accelerated into a corner on the deserted highway at an alarming rate. Down shifting at the last minute, the car clung to the corner, then rocketed away as he redlined it out of the curve.
Rockets. Alan never wanted to see one again. Nothing he had ever done in this family was enough. He was an astronaut. But John was better. He was second to fly Thunderbird One. But Scott was better. Gordon could swim better than Alan. Virgil was more gifted musically. Alan had finished college in three years, with honors (and a great deal of partying). It didn't matter. Scott, Virgil and John had been just as good, or even better. The list went on and on. Alan was good at car racing – but that was only a hobby. They were proud of him, but it wasn't nearly as important as astronomy or flying or even swimming. But Alan did have one thing that had been on his side. TinTin. Her love was a gift that he'd thought was too good to be true. And he'd been right.
Alan's cell phone, sitting on the seat next to him, rang again. It was the eighth call in less than an hour. A quick glance at the readout showed it was Gordon this time. Normally Alan would be glad to talk to Gordon, even when he was furious at everybody else in the family. Gordon understood. But now, Alan had had enough of anybody with the last name of Tracy.
Grabbing the phone without so much as glancing at it again, he unceremoniously chucked it out the open sunroof. Given the fact that he was traveling at about 110mph, and the phone landed on the shoulder of an isolated highway in the middle of the desert, pretty much guaranteed that it would never be used again. Alan just stomped on the gas, causing the car to leap forward at yet higher speeds, leaving the broken phone behind.
Alan ground his teeth, and got the car under control again as it teetered on the edge of coming apart. This wasn't the way. Suicide by car wasn't an option. TinTin would never forgive him. So he tunneled his anger and rage into the one channel that was right and good. His father and International Rescue. He never wanted to hear those words again. In his opinion, Jefferson Tracy and International Rescue were at the root of all his problems at the moment.
Alan Tracy, age twenty three, had just lost everything. His wife was dead, together with their unborn child.
SINGLE VOICE, FIRST STATEMENT (48 hours previous)
Alan Tracy guided Thunderbird Three out of the orbit of International Rescues' orbiting space station, Thunderbird Five. He was furious already. He and John hadn't seen each other for more than fifteen minutes, and John was already lecturing him on not upsetting their father, how he really needed to stop 'rocking the family boat', and how he needed to just grow up and be part of the team. Alan had taken it for about five minutes then told John to butt out. John had not taken it well. Five more minutes of arguing, and Alan had walked down the airlock, leaving John sputtering in his wake. He'd had enough.
As soon as Alan had completed the release maneuvers and was headed home with the course locked in, he contacted base. To his relief, TinTin answered. He found himself grinning.
"Hey love."
"Hello Alan," she answered with the smile that was for him alone. After a second, it faltered. "What is wrong?"
He shook his head. "How do you always know?"
"I am your wife, Alan. Now, what is wrong?"
He looked at her again in the monitor, awed once more that she had agreed to be his wife. His best friend. Now his forever. He sighed. "John started in on me again."
TinTin sighed in turn. "And what did you do?"
Alan grinned in spite of himself. "What do you think? I walked out on him."
"Of course you did. Well, that is better than fighting with him as you used too."
"I'm working at it." His grin faded. "I don't know what to do anymore, TinTin." He paused a moment, suddenly realizing that there were ears everywhere.
Once more, she read his mind. "Nobody else is here, Alan. You know that."
Alan's brain slipped back into gear. She was right. The rescue call had come in an hour ago, while John was already en-route up to Five. It was a bad one. A massive earthquake and resulting fire in Japan. International Rescue had specifically gone to aid a large hospital, severely damaged in the shaking. Even Jeff had gone on this one, and he almost never went on rescue calls. Alan could count on one hand the number of calls he remembered his father flying out on. So with Scott and Jeff in Thunderbird One, and Virgil, Gordon and Brains in Thunderbird Two, they were more than fully manned. They would coordinate from Mobile Control, using TinTin as necessary at the base, and John in Five until Alan returned to take over base control.
Grandma had gone to visit some friends earlier in the week. She wouldn't be back for a couple of weeks. Kyrano had been dropped off in Sydney the day before to shop for supplies. He would either call for pickup, or charter a flight. "Sorry. I forgot. So it's just you. How is the rescue going?"
TinTin pursed her lips. "The situation is very bad from the sounds of it."
Alan grimaced. Well, there wasn't anything he could do. He returned to their initial subject.
"All John wanted to do was berate me for upsetting Dad. That I needed to think of the family as a whole, and not be so selfish. That I needed to stop whining about what I wanted, blah, blah, blah." Alan huffed in frustration.
TinTin looked at him sympathetically. "Alan, we can go now. We do not have to wait. I've told you this. We have made the decision – there is no reason to wait."
"Of course there is reason, TinTin. You're pregnant, and you know as well as I do how dicey it is right now. I want you around lots of people until you've carried to term. If we leave now, I'm going to be gone as much as when I'm on rotation on TB Five, but there won't be anybody else around. You know that."
It was an old argument. They'd covered so many sides of the question, that there really wasn't anything new to be gained. As the friction between Alan and his father mounted, both of the newlywed couple knew they needed to leave. And it wasn't just because of Alan's need to prove himself. It went far deeper than that. And it wasn't that Alan believed his father didn't love him. He knew better than that. Jefferson Tracy loved all of his sons deeply, and communicated that daily. But the problem went back farther than Alan or his brothers. It went clear back to the one person Jeff loved even more than any of them, and had never coped with losing. It went back to Lucille Tracy, Jeff's wife, who had died giving birth to Alan.
Alan had watched from as early as he could remember as each of his brothers in turn would spend his birthday with their father. Just the birthday boy and dad. Wonderful in a large family – the chance to get attention all to themselves. Alan could hardly wait until his birthday, just for that reason. And every year he was disappointed. They would spend the morning at the cemetery, then Jeff would disappear. Grandma always made sure he had a party with his brothers, and his father always appeared a day or so later with extravagant gifts, but it wasn't the same. Alan was probably about eight or so when he realized it would never change, and why. The realization had been brutal.
Alan knew better than to eavesdrop, but as with any child, the temptation was tremendous. Unfortunately, he heard a very specific conversation once that provided exactly the reason why his birthday was so different, and things had never been the same for him since. Jeff, Grandma, Scott and Virgil had been talking about Lucy. The anger directed towards the uselessness Lucy's death had told him forever where he stood in the family. That, and the fact that she had become pregnant by mistake had been alluded to. That told Alan precisely where he fit in – he was not a planned addition, as had his brothers, and then Lucy had died because of him. Nobody said it, but Alan could guess. He knew they loved him, but still, the knowledge explained an awful lot, including why his birthday was different. And because he knew better than to admit to eavesdropping, Alan never told anybody what he'd heard.
And no matter how various members of the family had tried to change this pattern over the years, nobody had ever had any great success. And now it was worse. Because right in front of Jeff Tracy's face was the overwhelming happiness of his youngest son and his new wife – as deeply felt as Jeff's own love for Lucille had been. And although Jeff was truly delighted for Alan, he wasn't able to cope with that deep love on display, reminding him daily of his own loss. And since he had never really dealt with Lucy's sudden death, his manner of response was not what it should have been. Jeff had tried to hide it, but his feelings came out in displays of irritation around his youngest son. Of walking out of the room while Alan and TinTin were sitting together laughing intimately about something. Berating his son for his lack of responsibility now that he was a married man. And in any one of a hundred other small matters.
Alan was under no illusions. Had it been Scott, it may have been easier. Even any of his other brothers. But no. It was Alan who had married first. The son for whom his wife had given her life. And Jeff had never stopped missing her. Now, circumstances were conspiring against Jeff and his youngest son once more. And the friction between them, always there, usually just showing up as a slight edginess, was now causing a true rift. Adding Alan's desire to prove to his family and to himself that he was as good as they were, wasn't helping.
Therefore, Alan and TinTin had already made the decision to leave the island, and leave International Rescue. Alan was planning to return to the racing circuit. TinTin would find a job at wherever they had determined to be their home base. She would never have to work, but she made it clear that she wanted too. Alan wasn't going to fight her – she had as much right to choose her path as he did.
There would be a great deal of problems with the family, but they had made up their minds. They also believed firmly that it would probably save their relationship with the family in the long run. And that was important to them both, even as frustrated and irritated as Alan was now. He really didn't want to sever family ties permanently if he could help it.
Then TinTin found out she was pregnant. It was not planned, but they were both delighted. However, at the appointments with the doctor, they discovered that the pregnancy was not going well. It was going to be difficult for TinTin to carry to term. The doctor had counseled waiting three months before telling family. She may well not carry that long.
Together, they agreed, and also agreed to postpone their move until after TinTin had given birth. Things were too dicey to not be around people who cared about her right now.
TinTin smiled at Alan again in the monitor. She reached out and touched it. Alan touched her finger on his own monitor. "It is all right Alan. Let's talk when you return. It is our time now. And the decision must be ours alone."
"Have I told you I love you, Mrs. Tracy?"
"Not lately, but you can show me in an hour or so," she replied with her rippling laugh that delighted Alan every time he heard it.
"You're on."
"Well, I'll see you soon then. I must get ready." She smiled coquettishly at him, and Alan laughed as she blew a kiss at him and signed off. He was truly a lucky man.
TB TB TB TB TBAlan fully expected her to be waiting at the silo for him, and was surprised when she wasn't. He then thought with a grin, that she may well have prepared a 'surprise' for him, so he headed at full speed to their rooms. She wasn't there either. He didn't bother with the wrist-comm. She hated them and refused to wear one. She always stated she was just on the island anyway. So Alan searched.
In the lounge he found signs of her presence on the desk. The resignation letter to IR that he had half completed was sitting on the desk with her notations all over it. They wanted it to be perfect – not accusing, not argumentative, but professional. TinTin had laughed and told him to write it, so it would be his words, but she was going to edit, just to make sure he didn't offend absolutely everybody. The letter was there, but no TinTin.
Beginning to panic, Alan made his way through the villa, shouting. Getting more anxious by the minute, he sprinted back through the lounge and out onto the balcony. From there he could see the patio and the winding outside staircase. His worst fears were confirmed when he found her at the bottom of the cement staircase, bleeding from her ears, nose and mouth.
TB TB TB TB TBAlan sat in the waiting room in the hospital in Sydney, his head in his hands, frozen in shock. He felt as though he were not present in spirit, just in body. The nightmare had begun, and nothing was going right. After ascertaining that TinTin was alive, Alan didn't move her, but instead activated his wrist communicator.
"Dad!"
There was no answer.
"DAD!"
Alan was beginning to panic.
"Dad! Are you there?"
Jeff's face appeared in the communicator, tired, streaked with soot, and disheveled. The picture bounced and jumped as though the link was bad.
"Yes, Alan." Jeff Tracy's voice was as tired as he looked. He looked at the blurring picture of his youngest son with chagrin. John had already complained about Alan's behavior on Five when Jeff had called him for an update. Jeff had cut him off. He didn't have time to try to settle kindergarten disputes between his adult sons. He hadn't had time to get into it with John earlier, and hewouldn't go into it nowwith Alan either. There would be time later. And he'd have a few choice words for both of them.
"Dad, it's . . "
Before Alan could finish his sentence, Jeff cut him off with a hand. "Hang on." Looking to something Alan couldn't see, Jeff said something, the small image blinking in and out, then looked back at Alan. "I have to go Alan, we're in the middle of a bad situation here. Whatever it is, deal with it."
"NO! Dad, it's . . ."
"Alan! I have to go. Deal with it. I'll get back to you as soon as I can." And his picture cut off.
Alan stared in disbelief for a moment, then TinTin's groan brought him back to reality. Reassuring his unconscious wife, Alan tore back up the stairs to the office and scrambled for the radio link, not even noticing the bloody handprints he was leaving in his wake. Contacting the Sydney hospital via the computer communications link, he informed them of the situation as quickly as he could, and told them he was coming via helijet.
Collecting his unconscious wife, he was en route to Sydney as fast as he could go, trying to get in touch with Kyrano via cell phone as he flew.
COUNTER-SUBJECT, MULTIPLE VOICES"Where the hell is everybody?" Scott said in chagrin as the team from International Rescue walked slowly down the hall of the empty villa towards the lounge.
Nobody answered him. They were too tired, or too angry, or too much of both.
Everything had fallen apart. The rescue had been hell. The body toll was more than any of them wanted to think about. Scott, Virgil and Gordon were all treading carefully around Jeff. For one thing, he was furious with John and Alan for bringing a squabble into a rescue. Secondly, both Virgil and Gordon had taken far greater chances during the course of the rescue than he was happy with, and both of them had disobeyed both his and Scott's direct orders in order to do so. Then, neither Alan nor TinTin had been answering the radio. Well, they knew where they were! Where they always were when Alan returned from his time on Five. And Jeff was not happy.
Thunderbird One had stayed behind to mop up after Thunderbird Two had left. So, ultimately, both machines had returned at very close to the same time. Jeff had snapped, 'Debrief NOW!', and nobody dared disobey.
Jeff's breath caught as he looked at the disarray of the lounge. Papers were everywhere on the floor, and chairs were knocked over.
Gordon laughed out loud at the thought of his youngest brother and his wife, getting it on right there after a four week absence. Nothing else could cause this much destruction except Alan.
Anybody else's comments were cut short by Jeff's gasp and suddenly paling face as he looked at his desk. Always attuned to their father, Jeff's sons gathered around the desk, paling as they saw the bloody handprints on the papers and the computerized radio link.
"Oh, my . . . " a voice breathed. It could have been anyone of them uttering the horror they all felt at the sight.
Brains dove for the radio link, and brought up the history. "Alan Tracy calling Sydney Hospital Trauma Unit. And . . . uh, one message from, uh, Kyrano."
The fact that Alan had made a call to an emergency trauma center was bad enough, but it was the message from Kyrano that sent all of them scrambling to change and take off again – this time as the Tracy family, not International Rescue.
COUNTERPOINT, SECOND STATMENTAs the Tracy's were nearing Sydney, Jeff still had not been able to get hold of Alan, but he had been able to contact Kyrano. After listening for a few minutes, Jeff had asked if she was okay, then listened. He then asked about Alan, and was silent, listening some more. Finally he just said that they would be there in twenty minutes and hung up.
Scott, looking over from the controls of the jet, and seeing the frozen look on his father's face, just asked, "What?"
"TinTin fell down the outside stairs. She hit her head, hard, on the patio. She also began to hemorrhage internally." Jeff paused into the frozen silence and swallowed hard.
"Oh, no," Gordon breathed.
"But she'll be all right," Virgil asked into the silence. "Won't she?"
Jeff stared at the skyline from the front of the windscreen.
"Dad?" Scott asked in trepidation.
"TinTin died ninety eight minutes ago. Along with her unborn child."
ANSWER TO ORIGINAL STATEMENT"Mr. Tracy?" A voice asked as Jeff descended from the jet.
"Yes, I'm Jeff Tracy. Where is my son?"
"This way." An older man in a white lab coat led the way from the landing pad on the roof through a maze of corridors. "I'm Dr. Maylor, Mrs. Tracy's obstetrician. I believe you are now aware of her pregnancy?"
"Yes," Jeff said shortly. "We hadn't been told until now, however."
"Yes, I'm aware of that. That was on my recommendation. The pregnancy was not going very well, and there was a very good chance that she would abort before three months."
Jeff's lips tightened. He was going to have words with both this doctor and his son about that. They had no right to do that. This child would have meant everything to the family, and they could have helped. But later, not now. Alan needed to come first right now.
Scott, Virgil and Gordon were crowded on their heels, listening closely, hanging on every word during their quick passage through the hospital maze.
"Is that what happened?" Jeff asked pointedly.
Dr. Maylor shook his head. "We really don't know if the fall down the stairs was caused by the baby aborting, or the other way around. We'll probably never know." He paused.
"But . . ." Jeff prodded mercilessly.
"But, it was a combination of the head injury and the blood loss that caused her death."
"We'd been in contact with her less than an hour before . . ." Jeff said unbelievingly.
"Yes, I'm aware of that. I'm very sorry." Dr. Maylor slowed as they entered a set of double doors to a quiet wing.
Jeff recognized the area instantly. He'd been someplace similar when his own wife had died. His stomach constricted. Dear lord, Alan was even younger than he had been. Jeff's step faltered for a moment.
"Dad, are you okay?" Scott, always intuitive, grabbed his father's shoulder and whispered in concern.
Jeff patted his hand, and nodded, gently disengaging himself.
"Your son and Mr. Kyrano are in here," Dr. Maylor nodded towards a closed door. "I'll leave you with them. There is a panic button to the right of the door if you need assistance."
"Thank you," Virgil said, acknowledging the doctor as Jeff's attention was already directed to the door.
Opening it quietly, they saw the scene before the occupants were aware of them. Alan sat slumped, his hands clasped on his knees, listening to an unfamiliar man with a clip board in front of him. Every once and awhile Alan would nod in response to something the man said, and say something quietly. He'd look at Kyrano for a response, and the normally enigmatic man would answer softly. Jeff had never seen Kyrano at such a loss before. The tear stains looked foreign on the usually self possessed gentleman.
The man with the clipboard looked up, noticing their arrival. He turned back to Alan, saying quietly, "Thank you, Mr. Tracy, Mr. Kyrano. I'll see that the arrangements are carried out."
Jeff's stomach did another roll as he realized that Alan and Kyrano had just finished making funeral arrangements for TinTin. He remembered the exact words being said to him. Only he'd taken home his newborn son. Alan would not be returning with his child.
The man gave the newcomers a tight nod as he passed by them, then left. Jeff moved into the room quickly, and knelt in front of his son. Scott, Virgil and Gordon moved in more slowly, shutting the door behind them. Virgil sat next to Kyrano, putting a sympathetic hand on the man's shoulder. TinTin's father looked up at the sensitive Tracy son, and gave him a watery smile, then turned to bury his hands in his face.
Jeff was more worried than he'd been in a long time. Alan seemed like he was frozen. All Jeff could see was the top of his son's bowed head. This was not good. He'd feel better if Alan had been tearing the room apart, as was more in keeping with his character.
"Alan," Jeff said softly.
There was no response.
Jeff put his hands on top of Alan's clasped fingers. His son's hands were held together so tightly that they were white. "Alan," he tried again. "Son, I'm here."
There was still no response. Jeff could see the taunt muscles in Alan's shoulders, quivering with the grief and tension. Jeff understood. Probably one of the few people in the room who could. Alan had just lost his best friend since childhood. His wife. His lifelong partner, whom he had loved with a strong, deep dedication. Jeff understood it. He'd loved Lucy that way. But Alan had also lost his first child. Jeff hoped he never have to see that. To lose a child was unthinkable.
"Son, I understand." Jeff's voice was soft, compassionate.
Alan finally reacted. He lifted his tear stained face and stared back into his father's eyes. Jeff saw the rage he expected. That was how this son would react. He would be angry – he would throw things, he would destroy furniture. But that was expected. That was okay, it was a healthy outlet. They had to get him back to the island and let him explode.
"Oh, you do, do you?" Alan's voice was quiet.
"Alan, I do. I lost my wife too." Jeff said softly. He wasn't going to let Alan goad him into fighting back. Alan didn't need that now.
"Yes, you lost your wife. Now I've lost mine. But I've lost TinTin because we couldn't put her first before International Rescue," Alan hissed at his father, his face white with fury, his eyes a stormy blue.
Jeff was caught off-guard. "What did you say?" He whispered in disbelief.
"You told me, I believe the expression was, 'to deal with it'. Well, I've been dealing with it all my life." Alan began, his anger growing.
Jeff suddenly realized what he was talking about. That the contact Alan had made to him in the middle of the rescue had been regarding the accident with TinTin. And that he had cut him off, thinking it was IR, or a squabble with John. Jeff blanched.
"Alan, I didn't know, I didn't understand . . ." Jeff began.
"No, of course you didn't. You never do. You always cut me off before I say what I'm thinking, certain that you already know what I'm thinking, what I'm going to say. But YOU NEVER DO! You never have. You've never allowed me to express an opinion that I haven't had to fight to say." Alan wrenched himself loose of his father's hold and shot to his feet. The anger fueled his energy, and he channeled his grief into rage, allowing him to say what he'd never before dared to. He had absolutely nothing to lose now.
"You've never once really listened to me. I've always been the son who was born by mistake. The one that killed your wife. Your fourth spare after your perfect heir." Alan gave a mirthless laugh as unseen behind him, Scott winced. "The one that could never do anything that hadn't already been done before. The one that was always in reserve. The replacement for TB Five for John could come home sometimes. The relief for TB One. Always the relief. Never myself."
Scott, Virgil and Gordon were staring open mouthed at their younger brother. Alan had always been hot tempered, but never insecure. At least that they had been aware of.
"That's not true!" Jeff began, eyes smoldering.
"Oh, yes it is! Don't lie to me! Not again. Not now. Not ever again." Alan's grief gave fuse to the year and a half of frustration that had built since he had returned home from NASA and joined International Rescue. Voice to a lifetime of feeling inferior to his brothers and his father. Outlet to the fact that the one person who was helping him become his own person was now gone. He was done taking this from his father. Or anybody else.
"All of my life I watched my family grieve for a woman I never knew."
"Alan," Jeff was quiet again, trying to regain control of the situation. "You grieved too."
Alan shook his head abruptly at that assumption. One more of far too many. "No, I didn't. How could I? I never knew her," Alan said bitterly. "There were never any pictures around, or anybody to tell me about her, or who she was. All I knew was that my birthday has been spent watching this family mourn a woman I never knew. Watching while my brothers celebrated their birthdays year after year with a day out with Dad. Just the two of them. Going to whatever they wished. But not me. Usually a family party after the fact, something as an afterthought. But nobody ever seemed to notice or care that I always spent my actual birthday at a cemetery, forgotten most of the time because I was a mistake, and not nearly important as a woman who was DEAD!"
Jeff couldn't help himself. He struck Alan across the face before he even realized what he was doing.
Alan's eyes narrowed into slits of fury, one hand to the side of his reddening cheek. He shrugged off Virgil's hands as his brother tried to separate him from his father, not even aware of Scott trying to do the same thing with Jeff. "I never knew my mother. I've heard nothing about her except how wonderful she was, when anybody would ever even speak of her at all. How talented she was. How much everybody misses her. And every comment twists the knife because all I hear about me is how I should have studied like Scott, that it was too bad I wasn't the musician Virgil was, what a swimmer Gordon was, and pity from the coaches because I wasn't as good. And that how bad it was that NASA lost John, I should be proud that I'm 'nearly' as good as he is."
"I'm tired Father. I'm tired of trying to prove myself to you. Of keeping my happiness with my marriage under wraps because it might upset you since you haven't gotten over your wife. Well Father, she's been dead over 23 years! And I've been here all that time. Not that it ever really mattered."
Jeff was in shock, watching his son saying things that he'd obviously been feeling for years, but never sharing. He'd never guessed. Nor it seemed, had his other sons. This was the son who wore his emotions out for all to see – anger, joy, frustration, happiness – all on his face. But apparently, not all. Jeff had had no idea of the depth of anger and hurt his youngest child had held. They were all rooted to the ground as Alan continued, pointing at his father's chest to emphasis his point.
"I've always been the one with the temper. Well, maybe you should wonder why. I'm done with this family. I'm done with International Rescue. I'm not good enough to be first string at anything. But I'd like to believe I could be. And TinTin did believe I could be. She was the first person who ever believed in me, encouraged me, and told me I could reach for whatever star I wanted."
Alan calmed abruptly, grief hitting him heavily again. He turned away, but still spoke clearly. "We'd already decided to leave. We wanted a life of our own. Not as appendages to the great Tracy family, spares for International Rescue." He paused. The silence was almost a living thing.
Then, he closed his eyes and continued. "And I still can see no reason to stay. Especially now. None at all. I really don't want to hear how thoughtless I am, how irresponsible I am, how I should be like my brothers. I've tried that. And it hasn't been good enough for anybody, least of all me. My best friend died today, but I'm not going to let our dreams die with her. I'm through here."
Alan stared his father directly in the eye in the middle of the silent hospital room. "You can cut me off financially. That's fine. You can freeze my trust fund. I don't care. What you don't realize is that a second stringer in the Tracy family is still more than enough to get by just fine in the world." Alan looked around the room at his shocked and silent brothers and father. "I don't want to see any of you again. You've taken everything from me. The years that I spent wondering what was wrong with me, and now the one person I loved the most. I will miss her all my life." He turned back to Jeff. "But I refuse to do what you've done, and make my life a shrine to a dead woman, and shut out the living.
With that last statement, Alan turned on his heel and walked out of the room. That movement finally broke the trance the others were in as they listened to their supposedly impetuous and irresponsible family member express himself with an articulation and depth of thought and feeling that none had even realized he was capable of.
"Alan!" Gordon started to go after him, but Kyrano's hand on his shoulder stopped him. Gordon looked in amazement at the calm man's tear stained face.
"Let him go."
Gordon just stared, as did the rest of the Tracy family at the man who had been their retainer, friend, and confidant for so long. And he was also a grieving father who had just lost his only child.
"He is right. It is time for all of us to examine how we have viewed one another. I have listened to all of you over the many years. None of you, barring Gordon, have ever acted as though you liked your youngest brother. You loved him, that was clear. But liked him? And if that is true, why was the depth of love there? Certainly, you would not love without reason. Maybe it is time to find that reason. And when you find it, maybe he will too."
Authors Note: I hate canon character deaths. I hate them just as much as I hate author's notes. A story should stand without the author intrusion. But here I am doing both. :sigh: I never in a million years thought I'd write a character death story. But this story isn't about TinTin or her death. That's just a means to an end. The story is about Alan and his family. That said, this particular story came from two specific places, and it is important to give credit to both.
1) While in Reno last year, the group of us who went – Boomercat, Rlynch, Lynn and myself (henceforth known as 3 Wrinkles and a Crease), had many discussions regarding the Thunderbirds. One of which centered around liking or disliking Alan. Boomercat made a comment that there had to be a reason his brothers were so close to him and so protective of him. Brother or no, if they didn't LIKE him, they'd stay away from him. This got me thinking, and this story is the result.
2) The above conversation led me right to a story by MCJ, called 'Commitment'. This is a strongly written tale about Alan finally growing up that really stuck a chord (pardon the pun) with me. In her story, there is a section where Alan is faced with the possibility of TinTin and their child dying. He comments that if TinTin dies, he will leave Tracy Island and International Rescue. I had always wondered 'what if'? So, I have asked for (and received) MCJ's permission to use this premise. I've changed the events leading up the event significantly – in fact they bear no resemblance to MCJ's story. But it is close enough that if you have read the story, you will recognize the similarities instantly. Therefore credit needs to be given where credit is due, as I am building on her creative work. After Part I, the story goes off on its own tangent, but I must thank MCJ for allowing me to build on her base.
Thus, these two pieces build to form the whole. In addition, I must credit the Tracy Island Writers Forum group. The discussion of how Alan would have been viewed had he been the oldest, and that the character traits that are negative in the youngest would probably be seen as positive were he the eldest. This discussion took a major role in the evolution of this already in process story. I can't remember names and exact comments, but you know who you are. :Grins: Enough from the author. Enjoy the story.