Underlying Support

"I'm sorry I missed meeting your brother, Alan." A.J. didn't pause as he put away his clean, pressed clothing. "Did you and he have a good time?"

"Somewhat." Alan sat crosslegged on the floor, his math book in his lap. As predicted, Scott had taken Fermat and him out to an expensive lunch before returning the boys to campus. He had dropped Fermat off first, wanting a little time to talk with Alan, brother-to-brother.

"Are you going to be okay?" Scott had asked as they sat in the parking lot by the playing fields. "I mean, you've had a rough weekend..."

Alan didn't know what to say. Ever since Saturday evening, after the basketball game, he'd been tense, unhappy without really understanding why, and numb. Seeing his family on the televid had just made things worse, though he'd relaxed just a touch when it was clear the "action cam" had been dealt with. Now Scott was asking him a very important question, and he didn't know how to react. Finally, he took a deep breath and said, "I guess so."

"You guess so?" Scott's eyes searched Alan's face; the boy was looking down, out the window, anywhere but at Scott.

Alan sighed heavily, still refusing to meet his brother's gaze, looking instead at his hands, rubbing them together without conscious thought. "I just want this to be over. I want Sugi to go to jail and I never have to see him again or think about him again... ever. I want things to go back to the way they used to be."

Scott paused for a long moment, then reached out for Alan's shoulder. This got the boy's attention and he finally looked his brother in the eye. The mat of scabs and healing flesh on Alan's cheek blended into the shadows as he turned his head.

"I know how you feel, Alan. I really do." Scott spoke quietly, but with purpose. "I felt that way a lot after Mom died. I just... I just wished we could build a time machine, y'know? And go back to save her."

"You mean like the one that Doctor character has? In that old show John likes to watch?" Alan asked, a small, sad, lopsided smile on his face.

The tension broke a little as Scott laughed. "Yeah. Like that. Only cooler looking." He snorted another laugh, then calmed. "I thought, Dad's got all this money... he could build one, right?" Shaking his head, he added, softly, "I even asked Brains about it once, when Dad first brought him on board. He said the technology wasn't anywhere near advanced enough to do it. And that even if it were, the laws of physics say that you can't go back in time to a place before the machine was created. He also said that even if he could, he wasn't sure he could deal with the possible fallout of changing history... as much as he might have wanted to change it."

"That how I feel. I wish I could go back and change things. Stop it all from happening." Alan clenched his fists. "But it's impossible."

Scott nodded. "You're right; it is impossible. We can't go back. We have to move forward, or..."

"Or?"

Scott swallowed before he answered. "Or we keep living in the past." There was a small pause. "Don't get me wrong; the past is a great place to visit from time to time. But living there... not cool. Definitely not cool. You can go crazy living in the past."

The pair sat silent for a few moments. Alan thought about what Scott had said, while Scott tried to anticipate his brother's next comment. When the quiet began to stretch a bit too long, Scott shifted in his seat.

"You can call me, y'know. Any time you want. For no reason at all. I'll always be there for you, Al. Always."

Alan glanced over at his brother, and gave him another wan smile. "I know, Scott."

Scott smiled. "C'mere," he said and reached over to give Alan an awkward, heartfelt hug. He murmured, "I love you, kid," into Alan's ear before letting go. Even so, he kept a hand on the boy's shoulder. "Now. Are you going be okay?"

This time, Alan nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, Scott. I'm gonna be okay."

"Good." Scott moved his hand up to muss his brother's hair before pulling back.

"Hey!" Alan ran his hand through his hair in attempt to smooth it back, then reached for his brother's head. Scott leaned back, out of the way.

"Not today, Sprout!" he called, grinning.

Alan put a knee on his seat, levering himself up so he could reach further. "Don't call me Sprout!"

Scott's hands went up in a defensive move, trying to protect his own coif. "Okay, then. Not today, Pinky!"

Despite Scott's efforts, Alan managed to get a hand in and ruffle his brother's hair before withdrawing. "You need a haircut."

"So do you, Pinky. Wish I'd had time to take you to the barber." Scott glanced at the clock. "Damn. I've got to go if I'm going to stick to my flight plan." He started up the car. "I'll drop you off behind your dorm..."

Alan had already opened his door. "Nah, I'm okay, Scott. I'll walk back. It'll give me time to clear my head."

"Are you sure?" Scott asked, a slight frown on his face.

"Yeah. I'm sure." There was another uncomfortable pause between them, one that Alan broke. "You fly safely, and email me or something when you get home, okay?"

"I'll do that," Scott replied. "And I'll come out to one of your meets, soon. I promise."

"I'll hold you to it."

Alan stepped back, onto the walkway that surrounded the parking lot as Scott backed the car out of the parking space. They waved at each other, then Scott was gone, zooming off down the access road. Alan watched for a moment, then jammed his hands in his jacket pockets and sauntered off toward his dorm. He found himself whistling Scott's ringtone as he walked. The tension had abated, and the numb unhappiness had faded into a warm, mellow feeling. His brother loved him and had his back; even if he wasn't present, he was only a phone call away. He pushed the unpleasant events of the weekend aside, and went to get his math book.

"Ahem."

Alan looked up, startled by Fermat's deliberately loud throat-clearing. "Oh." He shook his head. "Sorry about that. I was lost in thought."

"I could tell," Fermat replied, his tone one of dry amusement. "Easy for you to get l-lost in there; you d-don't know your way a-around." Seated at his own desk, A.J. snickered.

"Har har, very funny," Alan riposted. "Are we gonna work on this math or not?"

"Now that you've f-found your way out... yeah. Let's w-w-w... do it."

"I will do my best, Jeff," Penelope said. Her hair was perfectly styled and she wore a designer evening dress, one meant for a formal social function. "But my contacts in military intelligence are few and far between."

"Even the smallest whiff of intel you can find will be welcome, Penny." Jeff nodded, his expression serious. "I need to know if the SBX was targeted for its own sake or to bring us out to the rescue."

"I quite understand. I will have Parker make inquiries among his own contacts, too. The underworld grapevine often uncovers information that the military would rather keep secret."

"Good plan, Penny." Jeff settled back and smiled. He appreciated the décolletage presented in Penelope's image. "It looks like you have a previous appointment. I won't keep you any longer."

Penny smiled, and blushed slightly. "Thank you, Jeff. I am attending a benefit ball for Rowden House School, a school for children with special needs." She waved a gloved hand. "Many confuse it with my own finishing school, but it is a far, far better cause to espouse." She frowned, a tiny wrinkle appearing between her elegantly shaped eyebrows. "Especially after that recent incident."

Jeff grinned. "Of course. Enjoy yourself and I'll talk with you later."

Her face cleared, and she gave him a sweet smile. "Au revoir, Jeff."

The image winked out and the window closed on Jeff's computer screen. He sighed. The rescue of the radar platform still niggled at him. Was it meant to bring us out for some reason? If so, by whom and why? Was it an attack on the SBX itself? Was it sabotage? Gordon seemed to think it wasn't due to equipment failure. Will we be getting more calls of this type? I doubt we'd be hearing anything more through public channels; all that the military is saying publicly is that it's "under investigation". He rubbed the back of his neck as he made his way to the kitchen. I hope we can get some answers; it just feels so wrong to me.

"Good morning, Mr. Tracy," Onaha said cheerfully as he entered the dining area. "Would you like coffee or juice this morning?"

"Good morning, Onaha. Some of both, please." Jeff sat down as she poured some juice into a tall glass.

"Pineapple mango this morning," she told him. "I'll be right back with the coffee and pancakes."

He smiled at her, murmuring his thanks. Kyrano came up on Jeff's other side.

"While you were on the phone with her Ladyship, Mr. Scott called. He is on his way back to the island."

"Thanks, Kyrano. Did he say anything about Alan?"

Kyrano shook his head. "He gave me no details other than Mr. Alan was in good spirits when he left. He expects to arrive here around four this afternoon, with a stop in Mumbai for fuel."

"Sounds good, Kyrano. Thanks."

"You're welcome, Mr. Tracy."

The retainer slipped away as Gordon came to the table, hair wet from an early swim. "Hey, Kyrano," he called, catching the man's attention. Kyrano replied with a wave, and disappeared into the foliage. "Good morning, Dad."

"Good morning, Gordon. Feeling rested?" Jeff gave Onaha a smile as she put a tall stack of pancakes before him. "Thanks, Onaha. These look great."

"Yeah, much better." Gordon sat back as Onaha greeted him and offered him juice. "No coffee for me today, Onaha. The juice will be fine."

"The pot will still be hot when you change your mind," she said, a knowing look on her face. She put the juice pitcher down on the table, and went back to the kitchen.

"I'm not gonna change my mind," Gordon groused. Jeff snorted a quiet laugh, and began to eat.

Brains came to the table and sat down across from Gordon. "G-Good morning."

"Good morning, Brains," Jeff said between bites. Gordon echoed the greeting as Brains settled a napkin on his lap.

"A-Any news from Wharton?" Brains asked, pouring a glass of juice for himself.

"Not really," Jeff replied. "Scott is on his way home. I'm sure we'll hear all about what went on when he arrives. I'll give Alan a call a little later."

Onaha appeared, putting a plate of pancakes before Gordon. "Good morning, Brains. Coffee or tea this morning?"

"Tea, p-please."

She smiled, nodded, and headed out of the room once more. Those around the table fell quiet; the only sounds were the clatter of silverware and the occasional sound of appreciation. Virgil shuffled in, greeting the others with a half-hearted wave and a sleepy grunt. Onaha breezed in again, pancakes in one hand, teapot in the other. "I'll get you some coffee, Virgil."

"Thanks," was all Virgil could muster up.

Brains poured himself a cup of properly brewed tea. "When do you w-want to talk about the d-data from the c-c-c... new equipment?"

"After breakfast will be good, Brains," Jeff said. "John recorded the broadcast footage, so we should be good as far as seeing how close it got. Virgil. We'll need the security camera images from Thunderbird Two."

Virgil squeezed his eyes shut, then blinked them open. "Sure thing, Dad," he said, his voice still thick with sleepiness.

Onaha came in with the coffee pot. She freshened Jeff's nearly empty cup and poured one for Virgil. He inhaled deeply of the steam and sighed with pleasure. Before she could go back to the kitchen, however, Gordon cleared his throat.

"Um, Onaha? Could you pour me some coffee, too, please?"

Jeff chuckled and Onaha favored Gordon with a knowing smile.

His math homework done, Alan felt restless. He took his book back to his room. Dom glanced up and greeted him. "Got your work done?"

"Yeah. The math, at least." He started to change his clothes. "I'll catch the rest later. I need to work off some energy."

"Where're you going?"

Alan paused. He wasn't quite sure what he wanted to do, but he knew it had to be physical. He finished pulling off his shirt, and felt a twinge in his shoulder. That gave him an idea.

"The weight room. The doc gave me some exercises; with Scott here and everything that went down Saturday..." He shrugged. "Just haven't had time to do them."

Dom nodded. "Sounds like a plan."

Alan finished changing into workout clothes, and said goodbye to his roommate. He hesitated in the lobby, checking to see if anyone was going toward the gym. There didn't seem to be anyone, so he left on his own. At least Dom knows where I'm headed, he thought. So if anything should happen... The thought made him draw in a deep sharp breath, and with an effort, he pushed aside the memories of his ordeal.

The weight room was occupied, but it wasn't busy. He hung his jacket on a hook, and pulled from a pocket the pages describing the exercises he was to do. The door opened behind him, a blast of cold autumn air swirled around him.

"Hey, Tracy." The voice was non-committal, a greeting without either pleasure or distaste. Alan turned to see who it was.

"Hi, Carter." Alan's tone was tinged with surprise.

If John Carter noticed, he made no mention of it. "Haven't seen you down here before," he said, not looking at Alan as he hung up his gym bag and jacket.

"Been a bit busy lately." Alan pointed to the papers in his hand. "Doctor gave me some exercises to do for my shoulder. Finally have time to actually do them."

The other boy glanced at the papers then nodded. "Good call. I had physical therapy once; doing the exercises helped."

"Yeah."

Having nothing more to say, Alan turned to walk away. He stopped when he heard Carter clear his throat and say, "Uh, Tracy?"

Alan turned and glanced back. Carter was looking at him with an indecipherable expression. He shrugged a little. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry for what I said the other day. I was out of line, and Zave made sure I knew it." He moistened his lips. "I saw you jumping at practice the other day; you're good. We need you on the team."

"Thanks. For the apology and the compliment." Alan turned away again, but Carter called him back.

"Hey. You need some help with those exercises or something? I could use a spotter... maybe we could help each other out here." John's face held a hopeful expression.

Alan paused, considering the offer, then smiled a little and nodded. "Yeah. I could use the help. And I can spot you while you work out."

"Cool. Let me get my gear around, and we'll work on your exercises first."

Alan rolled his shoulder, feeling no pain from the movement. The exercises had helped there; he made a mental note to continue them faithfully. Once he'd finished the required drill, he helped Carter by spotting him on the weights and counting repetitions. Then he went on to do some strength training for his lower body. The workout had felt good; he'd been able to channel the remaining tension from the weekend into the exertion.

Once back in his dorm room, Alan opted to raid his snack stash instead of eating dinner, and he talked his roommate into doing the same. Both boys settled down into a companionable quiet, interrupted only by an occasional slurp or less than quiet crunch, as each did his homework. Alan was almost finished with his Spanish assignment when a tune rang out, sounding much louder than usual.

"It's my dad," Alan said as he reached for his phone. "I'll take it somewhere else."

"Thanks!" Dom turned back to his work, but reached up to tug on his roommate's sleeve just before Alan stepped out of the room. "Tell him 'Hi', and 'Thanks for the video' from me."

Alan nodded, and opened up the phone. "Hi, Dad."

"No visual today, son?"

"Maybe once I get settled somewhere out of the way. Dom and I were working on our homework, and I didn't want to disturb him."

"No problem." Jeff stretched himself out in a poolside lounger and settled his netbook across his thighs. The earpiece was settled in comfortably. "So, how are you doing?"

"I'm okay." Alan found the stairs, remembering where he'd found Fermat before, and decided to follow his friend's example. "Dom says hello and thanks for the video."

Jeff chuckled. "I just hope he can use it. Give him my regards."

Alan finished jogging to the top landing, and slid to the wooden floor, sitting with his back to the wall and his knees drawn up. "Man, it's dark up here," he muttered. He plugged in his earpiece, and grinned at seeing his father's picture. In a far more cheerful voice, he asked, "So, is Scott home yet?"

"No, not yet." Jeff pulled up a tab that showed Scott's itinerary. "Looks like he's finished refueling in Mumbai and should be wheels up in a bit. I don't expect him home for a few more hours."

Alan snorted. "Figures. And I forgot to ask him about his hot date last night."

"Date?" Jeff straightened a bit, giving his youngest his full attention. "He didn't mention anything about a date."

"Oh yeah!" Alan grinned. "He had a date with one of the workers here. Sable de la Croix is her name. Very goth. I introduced him to her, and they sat together during practice on Friday. He had to leave our basketball game Saturday afternoon to take her out. Didn't hear a peep about her today."

"Sable de la Croix?" Jeff's tone was of amused incredulity, and one eyebrow climbed toward his hairline. "Sounds like an interesting girl. I'll be sure to ask him about her when he gets home." His voice sobered, and so did his expression. "How did things go otherwise?"

Alan leaned his head against the wall and sighed deeply. "It... I... he wanted me to lie for him, Dad. About what happened the night Erik..." He swallowed. "He... blamed the steroids for what he did. He said he didn't start the rumor about Fermat and..." He sighed again and his shoulders slumped. "He blamed everyone and everything but himself."

Jeff wished he could reach through the camera to touch his son, to reassure him, to reassure himself of Alan's well-being. "I wish I'd been there, Alan."

"I kinda wish you had been, too." Alan's confession startled Jeff. "Don't get me wrong; Scott was great. He was there when I needed him. But... it wasn't the same as you being here." The boy shrugged. "You're not going to be there all the time; I realize that. And it's good to know that Scott has my back, too." There was a pause, and abruptly, he changed the subject. "What's going on with that camera thing?"

He'd been ready to talk more with Alan about the confrontation with Sugi, so his son's sudden derailment of the topic took Jeff by surprise. An eyebrow rose, but he gamely changed subject. I can ask Scott for his impressions when he gets home. Jeff cleared his throat. "I take it you saw the video IWN was able to get?"

"Yeah. I did." Alan frowned. "Shouldn't Virgil have had the tint activated already?"

"Yes, he probably should have. But he'd been flying from a stormy area and didn't anticipate the camera." Jeff found himself both echoing Virgil's reasoning, and using it as a defense. "We're making use of the tint SOP for all the Thunderbirds when parked in a public space."

"Man, was I ever relieved when the picture went out. How'd Brains come up with a countermeasure so fast?"

Jeff smiled slightly. "He'd been thinking about the problem since South Africa, then he got Dr. Sugimoto's plans to work from, so not only was he able to block transmission but he was able to knock out the motive power." He shifted his position slightly. Gordon walked by, ready for another swim, Tin-Tin at his side. Virgil followed, hurrying to catch up. "Hey, boys... and lady. Want to say hello to Alan?"

"Yeah!" "Sure!" "Of course!" Jeff turned the netbook around, then disconnected his earpiece, transferring the mike and sound to the computer.

"Hey, Sprout!" "Hi, Alan!" "Hello, Alan. You look much better!"

Alan grinned. "Hi, guys! Going for a swim?"

"What do you think?" Virgil asked. He held out his arms. "I don't need any more tan, thank you very much."

"I'm finished with my classes for the day and I've agreed to referee a water polo match between these two," Tin-Tin told him.

"Match?" Gordon quipped. "More like a massacre." He grunted as Virgil elbowed him in the ribs.

Alan held his smile as a pang of homesickness shot through him. He could almost smell the tropical blooms and the sea breeze with its briny scent. He could just about feel the moist heat and the cool shade surrounding the pool. His brothers looked relaxed and ready for fun, while Tin-Tin looked as she always had... at ease, at home, and like one of the gang. He wished he were there with them, and said so.

"Well, you can always go swimming in the school pool," Gordon suggested. "You won't have a referee as pretty as the one we've got... hey!" Tin-Tin had smacked the back of his head.

"Swimming's a good idea. I'll have to make time for it." Alan said, his tone a bit wistful. He glanced up as the warning bell rang. "Hey, I should go. Let me talk to Dad again, please."

"See ya, Sprout!" "Talk to you later, Alan." "Have a good week, Alan."

Jeff turned the netbook to face him again, and activated his earpiece. "Is there anything you need, Alan?"

The boy shook his head. "Nah. Just tell Scott to email me or something when he gets home. I want to know he got there safe."

"I'll do that." Jeff paused. "I love you, son."

Alan nodded. "I know. I love you, too, Dad."

"We'll be out to see a track meet soon, okay?"

"Looking forward to it, Dad. First one for me is this weekend." Now that it was time to part, Alan was loathe to end the conversation.

Jeff chuckled. "I'll see what I can do. Have a good week, Alan."

"Thanks, Dad. Talk to you later."

Cutting the connection on his end, Jeff sighed. He glanced over at the splashing, laughing trio without really seeing them. Checking Scott's itinerary again – and seeing that his eldest was wheels up, headed for home – he put the netbook in hibernation mode, and carried it off with him to the office. Normally, he'd call John and talk to him about what Alan was going through, but sometimes, he admitted to himself, a guy just had to talk to his mother.

Alan snapped his phone shut with a sigh, then pushed himself to his feet. He hadn't really known how to express to his dad all that had gone through his mind during that hellish interview with Lee Sugimoto, and he wasn't sure he wanted to. After all, there was nothing that either of them could do about it; the only thing left to do was wait and see what actions the lawyers and the courts decided to take.

He rolled his shoulders and yawned as he padded down the steps. The idea of swimming at Wharton didn't appeal to him; he wasn't used to the strong smell of chlorine and the big, echoing natatorium. Still, maybe after a workout... He left the thought hanging as he came to his door.

"Hey," Dom said as Alan entered the room. "Did you have a good talk?"

Alan nodded. "Yeah. It was good. I think I'd better finish up my homework. Won't have time to do it in the morning." He smiled. "It feels good to be back on the team."