Disclaimer: Even though it is the season of giving, they are not mine! Seriously, it's Chapter 26! Go back to Chapter 1!

Thank you all for the reviews last chapter. As always, much appreciated!

Chapter 26 – Epilogue

A gentle night breeze swept into Alan's bedroom. It's heat a welcoming relief for the young blonde. After weeks of enduring the northeastern cold and snow, Alan was happy to embrace the warmth and comfort of his island home.

I'm just thankful for a little bit of normal, Alan thought as he took in a puff from his nebulizer. However, it wasn't just any day on Tracy Island - it was Christmas Eve. A day Alan had long since aimed for since his world had been turned upside down. It had been six weeks since the memorial service for Wharton Academy, and nine weeks since he had woken up to the fire in his dormitory.

Six weeks had allowed his left shoulder to heal finally, and for the first time since the fire, the seventeen-year-old had been granted full use of his arm. Happy that there was no longer a sling to keep him prisoner. He was still expected to do daily exercises to help strengthen his arm, but Alan was thankful for some freedom in his everyday life. Now the only injury that still plagued him was his lungs, something that was getting better every day. Steadily he was finding himself weaning off the aided oxygen, as his own lungs were showing signs of strength.

Virgil always reassured him that soon he wouldn't be confined to his concentrator as his sidekick. Alan chuckled at the word Gordon had affectionately labeled his oxygen tank.

Glancing to the left, Alan's blue eyes looked toward his desk – his gaze resting on the medal he had been given. The intricate gold award with a red neckband was a firm reminder of what not only he had sacrificed, but what he no doubt would always carry with him.

Time had allowed him to accept everything that had happened in the fire. An internal understanding and acceptance that the actions of Aaron Edwards and Tommy Newton would not only leave a mark on the lives of those who had attended Wharton Academy, but that he was not at fault for those lives that had been taken. That responsibility had solely laid in the two fire starter's hands.

Responsibility was something the two would each have plenty of time to contemplate.

The courts had undeniably sought justice for the young lives claimed in the fire at Wharton Academy. Tommy Newton had managed to skate himself on the easier side; however, striking a deal with the state. In an effort to save his own hind, the fifteen-year-old was more than willing to share anything the state desired on his former Wharton roommate. The teen's lawyer agreed to a misdemeanor, and several years spent at a juvenile detention center.

The state held nothing back on Aaron Edwards. The sixteen-year-old sophomore was charged as an adult on multiple counts of arson and homicide. Aaron would be lucky if he ever saw the light of day again. Something Alan hoped would be the case due to Aaron's lack of remorse of what he and Tommy had done.

"You play with fire, and you're going to get burned," Alan muttered to himself. His nebulizer beeped at him, almost in mockery.

A gentle knock on his door drew the baby of the family from his thoughts. Alan smiled as Virgil stood before him with a cheeky grin on his face. "Hey, Sprout! You ready for some family bonding and presents?"

Alan giggled, raising an eyebrow at his older brother's goofy smirk. "Normally Gordon is the one acting so suspicious. Should I be worried?"

Virgil's face fell. "What? Why?"

Alan couldn't help himself as a laugh escaped his lips. "I'm kidding, Virg. You just seemed overly excited is all."

"Well, DUH!" Virgil grinned as he watched Alan reapply the nasal canal around his nose. "We get to open presents tonight! Maybe I should check you for a fever. What person doesn't get excited about that?"

Alan swatted his older brother's playful hands away. "Hilarious, bro. Shall we?" he said, standing.

Entering the main lounge, the youngest Tracy noticed everyone already assembled in the family area. Alan smiled toward Tintin, Kyrano, and Onaha. The family of three returned two weeks ago from a month-long trip to their native Malaysia to lay to rest Onaha's mother. Walking past Brains and Fermat, Alan found himself guided to a spot on the couch next to Gordon.

"Behave you two," Virgil pointed with a warning and walked over to his spot next to John.

"So, word has it Scott already got in trouble from Dad for snooping through the presents," Gordon grinned, putting an arm around his baby brother.

Alan snickered at the comment but noticed the twinkle in his copper-haired brother's eyes. "What did you do?"

A cheshire cat grin appeared across the second youngest Tracy's face as he couldn't wait to share his genius. "You know how Virgil was complaining a few days ago about his new red oil paint missing?"

"Yea," Alan replied, pausing. "It was you?" he whispered.

"Big brother literally got caught red-handed," Gordon laughed, smiling as his only little brother let loose a full belly laugh. The first one since the school fire.

The duo found themselves the center of attention as the rest of the family watched the Terrible Twosome with curiosity. "Alright, do we have to split you two up?" Scott said as he came up behind the two, ruffling both of his little brother's heads of hair. "By the way, Gordon," he said, leaning in toward the ginger. "I know it was you, and there will be payback."

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Scott," Gordon stated completely straight-faced and nudged Alan. "I think Scotty is getting paranoid in his old age, Allie."

Jeff knocked a pen to his coffee cup, grabbing everyone's attention in the room as he stood. "Well, here we are – another Christmas upon us. The last few months have certainly been challenging for us all." The patriarch paused as he lovingly looked at each of his five sons. "One of the things that makes Christmas so special isn't the gifts we bestow upon each other, but the time we have with each other. The time we have with family. This year, I think we can all find ourselves cherishing the small moments a little more." His eyes rested on his youngest son – his baby. "I know I will. Merry Christmas, everyone!"

"Merry Christmas!" everyone cheered.

"Scott, why don't you and John start handing out presents," Jeff said as they were closest to the tree.

One by one, everyone slowly had several wrapped presents in the traditional holiday festive green and red near them. As they each took turns opening gifts, Alan found himself taking in his father's words. The seventeen-year-old took in the scene around him - hearing each of his brother's laughter and the quiet mixture of banter between one another.

This year Alan was indeed genuinely thankful for his family – both blood and adopted. The fire could've easily taken him away from all of this, but fate had gratefully had other plans. Plans without a doubt helped along by his late mother. Feeling a gentle hand on his knee, Alan met his father's questioning gaze.

"Everything okay, son?"

"Everything is fine, Dad," Alan smiled but noticed something rested in Jeff's hands. "What's that?"

"There's one more present for you to open tonight," Jeff said, handing his youngest the present. "Consider it an early graduation gift."

Alan looked at his father and down at the gift puzzled. After hearing his father encourage him to open the small rectangular box, the blonde popped open the lid. Pulling out a little white card, Alan flipped it open to reveal two tickets – his azure eyes widening as he read the inscription. The 108th Running of the Great American Race – Daytona 500 – was boldly printed along the race ticket. Alan looked up at his father in disbelief.

Jeff beamed at his son's reaction. "Merry Christmas, Alan. You've earned it in spades."

Overcome with such joy for the first time since his near-death-experience, Alan launched himself into his father's arms. "Thanks, Dad! This is amazing!"

Jeff embraced the hug, smiling as he caught the happy faces of his older children. Grins of joy adorned each of their faces at their baby brother's exuberant response.

Yes, Alan would always be their baby, but their youngest member was growing up and continually surprising them. Heroes and role models took many forms. It was no secret Alan looked up to his brothers and father as his own heroes.

What was it the youngest Tracy didn't know?

Alan was superman to his family – their own personal hero. For being a hero doesn't mean you're reckless or necessarily invincible. No, it means that in the face of adversity, you stand up and do what is necessary – you do what is right.

Alan Tracy wasn't invincible – no matter how many times he tried to test the theory - but he most certainly was brave and courageous. Something his family would safeguard and hold dear from harm for as long as they could.

Fin

There it is, folks. We have reached the end. What did you think? No, really! I want to know. I've put a lot into this story, and I hope you've enjoyed the ride. Writing the end was bittersweet.

In two weeks, I will be going under the knife, but I hope to be back with more writing. Is there anything you would like to see me write? I currently have zero ideas, but I'm sure staring at the same four walls for a few weeks will make me think of something before I go stir crazy. I gladly welcome any short-snippet ideas in my inbox or the reviews.

Merry Christmas to everyone, and if I don't drop in before 2017 arrives – Have a Happy New Year! I, for one, am not sad to see 2016 go! Good riddance!

Later!

xoxo

Allison