Title: Happy Birthday Mom
Author: Halo Son
Fandom: Thunderbirds
Rating: PG
Genre: Light Angst/Fluff
Disclaimer: I do not own Thunderbirds, Gerry Anderson. I am not making any money this, you know the rest right?
Summary: One-Shot. A special mother comforts her youngest son on her birthday.
A/N: A one-shot fic written for my mom for her birthday, which is today of course. When she read it she was crying (meep o.o) and said it was one of the most beautiful and emotional pieces of my writting she's read.

Happy Birthday Mom

By Halo Son

The sun is just making it's grand entrance on the dawn of another day, the glorious light spilling over the golden horizon, across the surface of the ocean and across the canvas of the broad sky.

The sound of gulls echoes in the air and their white shapes stand out against the hues of orange, red and yellow. The sea birds dive with pin-point accuracy down into the valleys and arcs of Tracy Island and out to the great expanse of water to begin a new day's breakfast hunt.

Blond hair was blown to one side as the early morning breeze sweeping in from the ocean ruffled the light strands and the clothes of the youngest Tracy from where he stood atop one of the many hills on the island, but this one was the highest.

It was also the chosen spot for the memorial dedicated to Lucille Tracy, wife of Jeff Tracy and the mother of Alan and his elder brothers. From this spot one could see just about all of the island and it was the perfect place to watch sunrises.

But Alan Tracy had not come to this spot to watch the rising of the sun.

He sighed lightly and let his head droop so it touched his chest and with half lidded and half guarded eyes he stared down at the plaque that headed the small memorial. It was shaped as that of a grave, but there were flowers planted lovingly around the top of the memorial where the plaque was.

Today was Lucille's birthday and if not for her tragic death after being caught in an avalache Alan would not be there, he would be back inside celebrating this day with his mother, his father and his brothers.

Alan had been a baby when she died, so he hardly remembered her. He had seen some photos of Lucille and heard about what a wonderful woman and mother she had been, but it still wasn't the same. Alan wished she were still alive, or at least if she had had to die he wished he could've gotten to know his mother, know for himself what she was like.

But alas, it wasn't meant to be.

All Alan had of her were photos and recollections from his older brothers.

Or at least....that's what he wanted his family to believe.

Alan hated coming to this place; it reminded him too much of something his brothers had had and he hadn't, it reminded him of the gap between him and his older siblings, it reminded him too much of the feeling of loss in his heart.

There was only one time Alan Tracy willingly came to this place and it was on this day, because he got something that his brother's didn't.

Alan knelt down beside the memorial and upon the plague he placed a single white lily, one of Lucille's favourite flowers. The petals moved gently in the wind.

"I can't miss you as my brother miss you, but in my own way I grieve for you mom." Alan whispered softly.

A voice seemingly from upon the wind answered him in a soft, warm voice, "I know you do Alan, I have always known."

Alan listened to the voice with such deep concentration marked on the fair features of his face, his blue eyes hidden under the lids as he let the voice fill his ears and focused on that, as he did every year.

This was a part of Alan his family rarely saw. His own sense of pain was clearly visible in his eyes when they opened again and it was something the youngest Tracy preferred no one to see. The thin veil of mist that had formed pooled around the botton edges of his eyes and slowly it fell as tears when it had become to heavy to sustain.

Alan never liked to cry and he couldn't remember a time when he had ever cried in front of his brothers or his father. Once or twice he had cried in TinTin's company and on a couple of occassions his grandmother had seen his tears, but if he did did it was usually in his own solitude.

Alan associated tears with weakness and he couldn't show weakness in front of his father or brothers. Always he wanted to see his strength, his capability and his reliability especially where International Rescue was involved.

Wait.

He suddenly remembered one time where he had cried in front of his brothers, or one of them at least, but that had only been because he had been forced to show his emotions.

He had had a nightmare one night about Tracy Island being discovered and International Rescue's secrecy had been torn apart. His family had been taken away from him and he had become completely lost and alone. Scott had heard his cries and had checked up on him. When he had refused Alan's repeated blunt answers that he was alright, Alan had sobbed in front of his eldest brother. Scott had sat on the edge of his bed, wrapped his arms around his shoulders and soothed him as he had done when Alan was a small child when he often had nightmares. Scott had stayed with him until he had fallen asleep.

Gordon too had comforted him when he had nightmares as a child and the two of them were very close even to this day, but Alan hadn't cried in front of him before. His older brothers didn't know Alan well at all, and unknown to the youngest Tracy, they all regretted that fact, but Jeff regretted it most of all.

Alan bowed his head when the tears slipped down his face, hardly holding in a choked sob while one of his hands reached up to cover his face.

A warmn, comforting presence wrapped around his body and Alan thought he felt arms around his shoulder, embracing him protectively.

"You cry such bitter tears Alan." The silken voice whispered. "These are tears you've held all your life. I know, for I have watched you, I have watched you all. You may not see me my son, but I have always been with you." A warm finger seemed to brush across Alan's cheeks, taking the tears away. "Do not be afraid to cry. It is not a weakness. Your brothers cry, your father cries, everyone cries. It is all part of being human."

Alan sniffled and slowly lifted his head up towards the dawning skies, "I love you mom, and I miss you so much, even if no one sees it."

A light laugh, "They see it and they know, Alan. They see many more things than you realise my child. They are your family." The invisible hands ran through Alan's blond hair. "Let them see how you feel, let them help you. They would it to you if you would just but let them."

"I don't know how." Alan lowered his head almost defeatedly.

Another soft laugh and the fingers pressed under his chin to lift his head up.

"Yes you do, but your afraid to ask. You needn't be. Just trust your heart, just trust them."

Oh how Alan wanted to embrace this presence, hold her in his arms and never let go and how he wanted her to hold him, like she did with his older siblings before his own birth.

Alan knew that one day he would get that wish, but not just yet.

"Mom?"

"Yes Alan?"

"Happy birthday."

"Thank you my son. The lily you've given me is wonderful."

"It's all I could give you."

"Oh no Alan." A warm hand on his cheek again. "You've given me so much more than that, whether you realise it or not, but you have. I'm so proud of you and of your brothers, your father and I love you all so very much." A delicate kiss was placed on Alan's forehead. "Remember my little Alan, I'm always here with you, in your heart, remember."

"I will remember mom, I promise."

Alan didn't know how long he sat kneeling by Lucille's memorial. He was only disturbed from his empty thoughts when a gentle voice spoke his name.

"Alan?"

Slowly Alan rose to his feet and only then did he turned to meet the fact of Scott Tracy, his eldest brother. A look of worry was drawn on Scott's face as he walked up to Alan and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

Alan stared at Scott, making no attempt to speak to him, but at the same time he made no attempt to brush away his tears or hide the pain in his eyes. For once he wasn't afraid to show his emotions.

"Scott...." Alan finally whispered before burying his face against Scott's chest and sobbed into his shirt, his hands clutching tightly at the material.

Though a little confused at first, Scott wrapped his arms around his baby brother and rubbed his back and shoulders in an attempt to comfort him and he whispered soft nothings into his ear. As Scott laid his face lightly against the top of Alan's head his eyes caught sight of the memorial plaque and he smiled to himself.

"Thank you mother. Happy birthday."