Chapter Two

Todd felt as if the world had stopped. Alan? They thought he was Alan Tracy? The missing (or dead, depending on which story you believed) youngest son of Jeff Tracy? Were they mental? For a second, he wanted to laugh. Only . . . . everybody around him (with the exception of his parents) were smiling, and the two Tracys in front of him looked as though their world had just been completed.

"You look just like your mother," Jeff Tracy said softly, trying hard to control his emotions and not scare the already clearly nervous youngster.

"Wait," Todd stuttered, "You think I'm Alan Tracy? There has to be some mistake. I can't be. I mean . . ." He finally sputtered to a stop. looking at the faces around him. He felt his father squeeze his shoulder in support, while his mother stepped closer to him.

"No, Alan. There isn't a mistake," the woman who worked with Ellen commented.

Jerrilyn, her name was Jerrilyn, Todd suddenly remembered. Ellen's boss. "But there has to be," Todd said, eyes huge, looking at her. "Alan Tracy is dead. And I'm not. I mean, I can't be. I . . . I don't remember anything . . . " He trailed off, uncertainly clear in his tone and expression.

Jeff longed to reach out and hug him close, but to do so now would just overwhelm the already upset teen. "We'd never gotten proof. We'd never found a body. And there had been stories of a man digging Alan . . . you, out of the avalanche. So I've always hoped, and I've never stopped looking. And DNA doesn't lie. Jerrilyn ran the test three times. Your DNA matched perfectly. We had it run a few times, using different samples. I could go into the science of it, but there isn't a need. There is no doubt at all. You are my son, Alan Shepard Tracy." Jeff finished with a soft smile, as he looked at his youngest son. He had all the time in the world now to get to know him. Alan was alive, and he was right here.

Leaning against his parents, both physically and figuratively, Todd shook his head, truly overwhelmed. "But I thought DNA had been run before. A couple of times." He looked around, eyes huge, to his parents for their confirmation. Marlena hugged him close, an arm around his waist.

It was all John could do to watch the interplay. He should have been hugging Alan, giving him reassurance, not these strangers. John could remember so well seeing his baby brother with their mother, playing with him on the carpet of the Kansas farm house, helping Scott corral him and keep him out of trouble once he'd outgrown his playpen. All the memories came crashing back as he looked into the wide eyed young teen before him. He knew it was Alan. He could feel it all the way to his bones. This was his youngest brother.

"We did have the DNA run, Todd. Twice before, as a matter of fact. It came back negative," Marlena said quietly, a hint of tears in her voice.

"Maybe it's a mistake this time," Todd said desperately, voice breaking slightly, "You know, what do they call it? A false positive?"

"I'm afraid not," Jerrilyn said, real sympathy in her voice. "We couldn't find the reports on the first two tests. No paperwork anywhere. Nobody could tell us where it had gone. The labs had no records, nothing. That's why it had to be run again."

"This time I literally hand carried the sample down myself," Ellen put in, "And went down and picked up the test. And I have a copy right here." She waved a paper. "That's why we had it done again. At our lab, and then Mr. Wells had it run independently at another lab. There is no mistake."

"Then what about the original tests?" Todd asked, bewildered.

"That's what I want to find out," Jeff Tracy growled, causing Todd to step back involuntarily. Jeff moderated his tone, and continued. "Somebody, somewhere, lost the original tests, or falsified the data. And I want to know who. And why." The steel in his voice was that of the man who walked on the moon, jerry-rigged the space capsule to get them home, built a business up from nothing to worldwide dominance, and grew up on the Kansas farmlands, helping his father pull a living from the land. It was the voice of a man who would not be thwarted. And he would not be denied from knowing who had separated him from his youngest son for nearly 11 years.

"And that will be my job," said the cultured voice of Gerald Wells. He smiled, but like Jeff Tracy, it held a hint of steel.

But by now, Todd was shaking his head, absolutely stunned. "It can't be," he said softly, more out of desperation, than of denial.

"It's okay, Sweetheart," Marlena said softly, wrapping her arms around him, and turning to face him. "Mr. Tracy has been looking for you for a long, long time."

"But I have a family," Todd said desperately, clearly on the brink of tears.

"I know," Marlena said again, softly, just for Todd and her husbands ears. "And we love you. It will all work out. We will always be here for you. Always. Never, ever forget that. And Mr. Tracy clearly loves his sons deeply as well. And he's never let go of you. You need to give this a chance. So let's just go one day at a time, shall we?"

"But I don't want to," Todd said in a nearly inaudible whisper. "I want to go back home with you."

"And we'd like nothing better," Thomas said sadly. "Mr. Tracy is your father, and he's been searching for you."

Jeff watched the small trio speaking quietly. They all remained silent, allowing the group as much privacy as the room allowed. Watching Alan, well, Todd, as they called him, with his foster parents told him how close they were, and how difficult this separation was on all of them. But he'd lost Alan too, early on. He wasn't going to let him go again. Alan may hate him for it for a while, but time would cure a lot.

As he studied the trio, he decided this needed to be done quickly. "John, why don't you show Alan the apartment? I'd like to talk to the Markovas."

John nodded and moved towards Alan. Marlena and Thomas separated themselves and nodded encouragingly towards their foster son. Todd allowed himself to go and looked back at them desperately for a moment, before disappearing with John.

As soon as the door shut, Jeff indicated that they should all move to the table. After they'd all taken their seats, he looked at them seriously. "I'm sorry," he said, meaning it. It was clear that they were devastated.

Thomas grabbed Marlena's hand under the table and squeezed it tight, both for support for himself, and to bolster her. She managed to nod, not able to speak. Thomas cleared his throat, and answered rather hoarsely, "Thank you. It's . . . very hard."

Jeff nodded sympathetically. As glad as he was to finally have Alan back, there were no winners here.

Ellen spoke up. "Did you bring his suitcase?"

"Yes. But he still doesn't know that he is staying," Thomas said.

"Good. I know that is hard, but in the long run, it will be easier," Jerrilyn said gently.

"I know," Thomas said softly, digging out the keys to the car and handing them to Ellen. He told her where he'd parked, and she headed off to collect Todd's things.

"What do I need to know?" Jeff asked. There was no easy way to do this, except start.

"He loves to fly," Marlena said, a fond smile on her face as she thought about her foster son.

"Anything fast," Thomas added, exchanging smiles with his wife. "If I'd let him, he'd be driving the car right now, the faster the better. Dirt bikes, bicycles, basically anything with wheels and if it has an engine, that's even better."

Jeff had to grin. That sounded like any son of his, that was for sure.

"He's very clever," Marlena added. "If it can be fit together and made to work better, Todd . . . Alan, would do it. He's fixed things in the restaurant that are working better than they did when they were new. He's very smart, but not a fan of schoolwork. You have to stay on top of him for that."

They were still speaking when Ellen returned with a suitcase. She joined the rest at the table, and listened until the couple wound down. Once they had finished, she spoke.

"I know you've read the files, Mr. Tracy, but you need to know that Alan is still somewhat . . . fragile, I guess, for lack of the right word."

Jeff frowned. "In what way? The files were not very specific."

Ellen nodded towards the Markova's, indicating that they should elaborate.

Marlena began. "When he came to us, he was four. He wouldn't speak, and we weren't sure that he could. We knew that he'd been in some-kind of severe trauma, but no details were given other than it had been an accident. He'd been with a foster family in the Midwest, and they had surrendered him as they couldn't handle him."

Ellen spoke up here. "He was surrendered back to us when the family was heading out of the country. But they said they couldn't deal with him anymore. He wouldn't speak, but would have massive tantrums, and just wouldn't be calmed for hours. The head injury was healing but still so severe that they weren't sure what kind of damage would be permanent. He had severe separation anxiety, yet was physically abusive to anybody who tried to calm him. He'd bite, kick, hit, basically anything he could to get free.

"The tantrums didn't seem to have a trigger, he'd just lash out. And the physical injuries were severe and long lasting. Both legs had been broken, and badly. He walked with a noticeable limp for a long time. Trauma to the head and torso, a badly dislocated shoulder, well, basically consistent with an avalanche, now that we know." Ellen shrugged. "The social workers at that time put it down as trauma from abuse, and his behavior backed it up. There are huge holes in the records. What can I say."

Jeff thinned his lips and nodded. One more thing to look into. Who could have done this to him and his family? "Did any of the records that came with him show where he came from?" He asked, knowing from his research that the answer was no.

Ellen shook her head. "No. The office in the Midwest that we tracked him down to originating from had burned down. All the records were gone. All we had was what came to us from the last foster family." She continued. "Physically, Alan is much better. Apparently there had been some medical treatment and surgeries in the Midwest, but the records are incomplete."

Thomas finished up. "Marlena and I had Todd . . . I mean, Alan, in swimming lessons from the time he came to us, as we had been told that would be the best physically for him. I run every morning, and when he began to really settle in, Alan began coming with me. It's been a habit with us now for years. Both swimming and running have helped him tremendously. Now, you can't tell that he had anything wrong with his legs. His left arm still has some limited mobility, and we've never been able to get funding for the surgery to correct the problem."

"He stills limps slightly when he's very tired. He also still has severe migraine headaches from time to time," Marlena added. "Although nobody has been able to tell us if that is from the head injury or hereditary."

Jeff nodded. He was getting the picture. Alan was stable with the Markovas. The behavioral problems had lessened with the stability of his home situation. He knew he could expect some backsliding, but he could deal with it. As for physical issues? Well, he had access to the best medical help money could buy, and he would make use of it.

As they finished up, and the Markova's stood to go, Marlena asked if she could call in the morning to check on Alan.

Jeff was torn. He wanted his son to himself. All to himself. Alan was his son, not these peoples'. But he owed a huge debt to them, and he knew it. And it wasn't fair to cut Alan off from the only support he'd ever known. Sighing, he finally said, "As hard as it is for me, it will be best for Alan if he stays in touch with you, I think."

Out of the corner of his eye he saw both Jerrilyn and Ellen visibly relax. He continued. "But please, give me some time to form a bond with him. Give me a call on my private cell phone. Call me each morning. We'll play it by ear for the first few days, then we'll set up some kind of schedule. How is that?"

Thomas and Marlena both relaxed for the first time that afternoon. "Thank you. It would be devastating to be cut out of his life," Thomas said.

"Can I call you if I have questions?" Jeff inquired.

"Of course," Thomas answered, and they all exchanged phone numbers. After that, Jeff was left alone in his office, and for the first time, allowed himself just to wonder. Wonder at Alan's return, at the amazing luck he'd had to be with the Markova's, that he'd been found, that he was ALIVE at all, and that Jeff had him home again. Sighing, he forced himself to relax, then headed for the penthouse to get to know his son.

"Whoa!" Todd exclaimed as they entered the Penthouse from the private elevator. He'd wondered at the security in the elevator. The keypad to access the small, discrete door just outside Jeff Tracy's office, the thumbprint scanner inside it, and another keypad to exit. Now he understood.

They stood on a balcony that ran two sides of the spacious penthouse apartment at the very top of Tracy Towers. A set of suspended steps led down to the main living area where another entrance lay. John explained that it was another private elevator from a secured parking garage.

Huge floor to ceiling windows spanned two floors on two sides, opening the room up to the view of Manhattan. Even though the days was overcast, light spilled into the room, and the sense of brightness and space was all over. One of the glass walls enclosed an infinity pool, large enough for lap swimming. This must be for Gordon, the swimmer. Alan realized that the pool was 'inside' of the apartment, not outside. That just blew him away even more.

Wrenching his eyes away from the pool and the massive windows, he saw the wall to the right of where he stood was essentially a balcony. Doors opened off of it, and on the floor leave below. The wall to the left was white, floor to ceiling. A fireplace was prominent, and a huge video screen mounted next to it. And spanning from that level and sweeping upward, a massive painting dominated the white expanse. The artist had not only gotten the physical aspects right, but somehow had captured the feelings of awe and majesty of the great vastness over the bright horizon of the blue planet. John noticed him looking, as he guided Alan down the steps.

"Virgil's work. He did that for Dad for his birthday a few years ago. The Metropolitan Museum wanted to display it, but Dad refused to let it out of his sight. Virgil agreed." He laughed. "The museum was not very happy."

Todd looked sideways at the young man beside him. He'd just causally spoken about thwarting the Metropolitan Museum. What kind of world did they live in? Not one he knew about, that was for sure. He wandered closer to the vast painting, and stood looking up at it in awe.

The painting was really amazing. Everyplace you looked there was more to see.

"It's very accurate Astronomy-wise as well," John continued from next to him. "Virg and I spent a lot of time at the telescope on Tracy Island so that he could get it right. There isn't a square inch of that canvas that isn't correct. It could double as a star map, if necessary."

Todd felt his stomach tighten as he looked over the canvas. The moon was shown in incredible detail, as were the remaining planets off in the distance, captured in perfect perspective. He remembered that the man next to him, so placid and calm, was a world renowned Astronomer, and an author. Todd had all of his books. How was he supposed to live up to these people? He couldn't be a Tracy. He wasn't smart enough, that was for sure. Or gifted. He wasn't an artist, or a writer. He didn't even like school. What would happen when they realized that he couldn't be Alan Tracy?

Nudging him lightly, John spoke again. "How about going into the kitchen. Are you hungry? I am. I was so nervous this morning, I didn't eat breakfast."

Todd turned to him in surprise. "Nervous? Why were you nervous?" He asked in confusion.

John snorted. "Seriously? You think you were the only one nervous? How often do I get to meet a long lost little brother? Come on. I'm hungry." And with that he led the way into the kitchen.

Todd followed, snapping his jaw shut, which had fallen open in amazement. He hadn't thought much about their perspective.

The kitchen was on par with the rest of the place. Gleaming stainless steel appliances, and a huge subzero refrigerator. Lots of counter space, and a huge walk in pantry. More of the big windows, taking advantage of the views. As John began to busy himself getting sandwiches, Todd ignored the big table in favor of hitching a hip on one of the bar stools pulled up to the counter.

"This is huge!" He exclaimed, looking around in amazement. "Does Mr. Tracy do a lot of entertaining up here? Is that why he needed something so bit?"

John paused for a moment. "Mr. Tracy?" He grinned, obviously amused. "No, Dad," he emphasized, "Doesn't ever entertain here. We have such a big kitchen because we go through a lot of groceries. Scott eats like a horse. There aren't any leftovers, ever, because Scott is like a scavenger when it comes to food. Virgil is just about as bad, and Dad can keep up with them. When Gordie is training, he can keep up as well. We go through A LOT of food," he finished, laughing, as he brought a plate over to Todd, as well as one for himself.

Todd looked at the big sandwich, piled with meats, cheeses and and vegetables. Clearly they didn't stint in the Tracy family. Just looking at it made him famished. They both dug in and conversation was suspended as they ate. They were on seconds, when Jeff Tracy joined them.

"Food? I'm starving!" Jeff announced, as he shed his suit jacket and looked over at them.

"Told ya," John laughed as he pushed the second half of his sandwich towards his father, and stood up to go make more.

"I'll make my own," Jeff protested, but John cut him off.

"I've really eaten my fill. I'll make you another. Get started."

Alan had stopped mid bite, and looked uncertainly at his . . . Father.

Jeff smiled gently. "Keep eating, we don't stand on ceremony around here when it's family."

Alan swallowed the bite that had turned into a lump, and began to breath again.

When they had finished, Jeff steered them into the high ceiled great room and dropped tiredly onto the couch, loosening his tie. John collapsed into another arm chair as Jeff waved Alan into another.

"You must have a lot of questions for us," Jeff said with a smile as Alan settled tentatively in another big chair.

Todd just shook his head, clearly overwhelmed.

Jeff just smiled gently at him, saying, "Okay, how about I tell you about us? Let you know who we are?"

Todd/Alan nodded gratefully, and slowly began to relax as Jeff Tracy told him quietly about his family. Soon Jeff was joined by John, who added his own droll observations, as old family stories were pulled out for a new audience, and the newest family member began to join in tentatively, asking questions, smiling at the laughter, and growing interested in spite of himself, especially as the photo albums came out.