Hey people of fan fiction, my name is Elegantly Innocent. I love the Thunderbirds and I love Alan angst so hope you enjoy. This fic is dedicated to Criminally Charmed. I've read all her stories and she inspired me to do this. Oh and please be nice. I'm new at this. Thank you.

Alan: 18

Gordon: 21

Virgil: 23

John: 25

Scott: 26

How many days has it been? How many minutes, hours, seconds, have I been stuck here? I'm trapped, contained. I've always been afraid of cages but I would prefer to be in one if it meant that I could get out of this eternal darkness. At least then I could have hope to be free again, at least I could see.

For what feels like an eternity later, I start to here voices. They are unclear and in gibberish but I recognize them. The voices belong to my brothers, I'm sure of it.

"Scott!" I call, "John! Gordon! Virgil! I'm trapped! I'm right here!" But then remember I have no idea where 'here' is. Slowly, I begin to hear parts of their conversation, like a bad radio signal.

"No…can't…Alan…not…give up" I hear Gordon say.

.

Scott's voice is clearer but soft and unusually sad, "I'm sorry guys but Alan…Alan isn't going to wake up," he stops and lets out a small sob before continuing," He's been like this for four months. There is almost a zero percent he will return to us. He's brain dead."

"What? I'm NOT brain dead! But you guys are deaf! Why can't you hear me?" I exasperatedly cry.

"He's right Gordon," Vigil whispers, " Alan's gone… Oh God. This is all my fault. I was just so angry after the rescue that I didn't…" Virgil is unable to continue, because he breaks down sobbing hysterically. I hear his cries become muffled and I assume it is because he has buried his head into one of my brothers' shoulders.

"Virg, I'm okay. Don't cry, I don't even know what you did," I say but he continues to cry as if I hadn't spoken, "Why is everyone ignoring me but at the same time crying about me? I'm perfectly fine besides being stuck in the dark."

"We all made the mistake of not checking on him," John remarks quietly, " I just wish I could take back my last words…tell him that I love him."

Murmurs of agreement come from each of my brothers and become more confused. Why can't they hear me? Suddenly a tidal wave of memories suddenly crashes onto me. The klaxon going off…Loading into Thunderbird two…Fighting the fire that took over the apartment building…trying to get a hold of Scott but my STUPID watch com won't work…the beam falling onto my head…pain…so much pain…getting up and out of the building…trying to not pass out while my brothers are yelling at me for disobeying orders, not knowing that I hit my head but it hurts too much to talk…falling asleep in my room barely hearing my Scott's yell for help. It all makes sense now. I'm in some type of coma.

"Okay," I tell myself, "Don't panic. Try to wake yourself up." Slowly, I regain feeling in my limbs, which until now, I did not know I was missing. Air flutters through my nostrils as I breathe rhythmically, but at the same time I feel a plastic tube that has stuffed itself down my throat. Stiff sheets lay across me and a hospital gown covers my body. I inwardly wince when I start to feel the tubes and needles the doctors (I'm guessing that I'm at a hospital) have stuck into me like a pincushion. For some reason, gauze is wrapped around my head which is aching and someone is gripping my hand tightly. I want to squeeze it back or at least open my eyes but my body remains unresponsive in my efforts to move.

"It's time boys," my father says, speaking for the first time. He sounds broken, even more so then when we lost mom, and that scares me. "The others said their good-byes last night, it's time for ours."

"Why are they saying goodbye?" I ask myself in confusion, "…No…they wouldn't mean…that..."

A few seconds pass in silence before Scott answers quietly, "I'll go first."

"Take your time," my father says, releasing his grip on my hand, "We'll be outside in the waiting room."

I hear my family's footsteps and the creak of the opening door before I am left alone with Scott. "Hey Sprout," he whispers, tears in is voice, "I don't know if you can hear me kiddo…probably not cause the doc says you're brain dead… but, I want you to know I'm so…so sorry," he gasps and I feel a teardrop fall onto my cheek, "Oh God I'm sorry…Damn it…Why Alan? Why? You were supposed to live a full life! You were supposed to have a family. You can't…you can't die. "

"Scott I'm okay," I say mentally, "Mom please let me wake up." However my body doesn't respond to my pleading and Scott continues.

"But there's nothing I can do…nothing" He says bitterly, " and you know what the worst part is?" he asks, "Virgil's wrong. This is my fault."

"No, it's not Scott," I counter, desperately wanting to wake up but being unable to, "It's no one's fault..."

Unknowingly, Scott interrupts me, "I'm in charge on the rescues. I should have had you checked on or at least asked if you were all right. But did I? Nope, I was too busy yelling at you to care…" he pauses lets himself release a choked sob before continuing, "You were so quiet Alan. You were in pain, weren't you? God…I…I didn't know. How could I have not noticed that?"

"Scott, you aren't perfect. I should have said something," I say, knowing fully well that I couldn't talk before because of the pain. It's just a little white lie to comfort Scott (which is weird because he can't even hear me).

"I should be the one lying there," he murmurs, "I'm the one who deserves it…"

"No you do not Scott!" I exclaim, "Don't you even think that!"

"You did nothing wrong, you don't deserve this…You did nothing wrong…It's not fair," he says weakly.

Scott's trembling fingers brush over my face and then grasp my hand. "I'm going to miss you…" he whispers as his shaking worsens, "L-Love you."

"I love you too Scotty", I echo sadly and again try to attempt to open my eyes to no avail. "Please mom," I pray, "Help me wake up. I don't want anyone Scott to cry any more."

"Bye Allie," he mumbles, now fully crying. He lets go of my hand and then walks across the room and opens the door. For a few seconds he pauses I can hear his soft breathing before he closes the door.

Silence envelopes the room and I begin to wonder if I have gone back into my dark prison or if I am dead. "No," I tell myself, " I'm not dead. I wouldn't be in this much pain if I was dead…would I?"

My thoughts are interrupted to the creaking of the door and a relief washes over me. I am alive and fighting…I just hope it's not too late.

A soft hand strokes my face before grabbing my hand, "Hey-y A-Allie," a voice rasps, belonging to John, "You doing okay?"

"Not particularly."

"That was a stupid question," John admits sadly, "I wish you could hear me…I kind of wish for a lot of things now. For you to be better, for you to wake up, for you to not-," he chokes on the last word, "die."

He les out a small sob before continuing, "…Remember when I was going to NASA?…Y-You were still a kid…But I remember, you didn't want me to go…you were afraid that I wouldn't be able to see you anymore and that I'd be too busy when I was up in space…and do you remember what I told you?…I told you that not even heaven itself could keep me away from you…"

He starts uncontrollably sobbing and I am as helpless as ever, "Don't go," he begs, "Please don't…Please don't go."

"I'm not leaving you," I promise him, even though he cannot hear me. He continues to cry weakly. "Please Mom," I chant, "Please help me wake up."

"…I-I wish I hadn't been so STUPID…I wish I could do more than just SIT here," John yells, his voice filled with self-hatred. If I could move I would have probably jumped out of my skin. John practically never yells, but when he does, it's scarier than hell. "Goddammit Alan, " he whispers, "I can't save you." He sits in silence for a few minutes, running his thumb up and down against the palm of my hand, "…I can't save you."

Soon after, I again find myself alone and I dread for the next family member to walk in. Hearing their suffering is hard enough when you can actually comfort them but I am powerless in my own body. However, Mom seems to be helping me because now I can see light through my eyelids instead of darkness. The hospital door again creaks open and I find myself with the middle brother, Virgil.

Unlike my other brothers, Virgil doesn't waste his time with a greeting. "This is my fault Alan," he states clearly, "You would be alive and well if I wasn't such a screw up."

"You are NOT a screw up," I reply forcefully, "Why do all of you guys have a heroic complex? I don't even know how this could be anyone's fault…well, except for the pyromaniacs who lit the building on fire…"

"The doctor…the real doctor… said that you would have most likely made a full recovery by now if we had found out you were hurt while you were awake," he sniffles, his voice now wobbly, "They don't even know how long you weren't breathing…God, it was so scary Alan. Scott was screaming for help and we all rushed to him…We all thought Scott had been hurt but when I saw you limp in his arms, I…I knew that I messed up."

I inwardly shiver as I imagine what happened. Scott and my father were most likely hysterical. Gordon probably went into shock, like the time John was knocked unconscious by a wayward bowling ball (long story). John wouldn't find out after they contacted him on thunderbird 5. My guess is that when he found out he immediately started to beat himself up for being so hard on me and maybe even threw up (which happened in another long story). I can't even imagine how I would react if that was me.

"But on the upside, you get to see mom," he promises, unable to keep his voice from heavily shaking, "You won't have to hurt anymore…"

"I don't care if I'm in pain," I say, "I'm going to stay here with you. I miss Mom but she will just have to wait."

"I feel so alone without you" Virgil continues, " I know we weren't the closest, I mean we were still close but not as close as you and John or you and Gordon are, but…God, I…I don't know how to deal with this…for Mom's death we could say goodbye, for your death there's absolutely no closure…" he breathes heavily, practically gasping for air, "You…You can't leave us like this Alan! We're not ready! WE NEED YOU!"

Tears pour down from his face onto mine as I fight for movement. I am going to end this now! "Come on, come on," I encourage myself, "Fight for Scott and John and Virgil." Finally my hand twitches I am fill with a sense of pride. I have conquered my body. However my pride quickly turns into worry as Virgil starts to cry. "Why is he crying?" I ask myself and then answer at the same time, "He must have not seen me move." Once again I attempt to move but nothing happens. A mental scream of frustration echoes through my mind and I would very much like to throw something…which I can't do because movement is momentarily impossible. "Crap," I think to myself.

I don't hear Virgil's goodbye only the swinging of the door. Part of me wonders if he had even said goodbye but I know that he most likely whispered it or said it in his mind. Or I was to busy mentally cursing myself to hear it. The last one is the most probable.

I expect my next family member to be Gordon but instead of his muscled hand I feel my father's gentle one running through my hair. "Allie," he whispers, "my baby boy."

Worry clenches at my stomach when he calls me baby boy. The last time I heard him say that was when I nearly died after the encounter with the Hood. He must be taking this really hard. "I'm going to be okay, Dad," I assure him mentally, but even though I want him to hear me he can't.

"Gordon wasn't ready," he whispers, "I'm not ready either, I don't think I ever will be…After your mother's death I though I was done with early goodbyes," he continues softly, "But now I have to say goodbye to you…God, I don't know how…Without you our family will break, Actually it already is broken… Scott doesn't eat more than half of a meal in a day. He's becoming skinny and constantly has dark circles under his eyes. John has become an emotional wreck. He's moody and depressed and so deeply frustrated that he can't do anything to save you. Virgil purposefully tries to wear himself out each day so he wont have to dream. More than once I've been awoken by his screaming and it's a good night for him when he gets more than four hours of sleep. Gordon…Gordon hasn't touched the pool since we found you unconscious. He's always so solemn and never even fake smiles…He's broken without you."

My father is crying hard now and am shaken by it. I don't think I've ever heard him cry before. "Mom," I say, again chanting my prayer, "Please help me wake up. They don't deserve to suffer like this."

"And I…I feel lost without you, and I cant help but think that nothing will be okay again. For the rest of my life I will be living without you…without the little boy who on his first spelling bee spelt out T-N-T when he was asked to spell dynamite, without the little boy who picked weeds and gave them to me as flowers, who cried when his brothers cried just because he felt bad for them, without the young man the little boy has grown up to be …,"my father whispers softly stroking my face.

"Dad," I say, embarrassed by his words but longing to comfort him at the same time, "you won't have to. I'm going to wake up in a few minutes and be perfectly fine."

"We've shut down the Thunderbirds," he tells me, "I'm not sure if we'll ever restart them again…What's the point? I started it so people like your mother wouldn't have to die unnecessarily, but I just end up losing you because of it…I should have just ended it after the Hood incident."

He lowers his hand onto mine and squeezes it, making me so badly want to squeeze back, "…I don't want to let you go. The past four months I have been so adamant that you would wake up. I kept telling the doctors that they didn't know how stubborn the Tracy's are that they don't know my son," a fresh wave of emotion hits him and he barely rasps out, "but it wasn't enough, you can't come back to us."

It takes him a few minutes for him to stop the sobs before he says, "I have to let you go. It would be selfish of me to keep you here…so I have to let you go."

With surprising tenderness, he kisses my forehead and grasps onto my hand one last time, "Goodbye Alan. I love you."

I don't want him to leave but he does anyway. It's beyond frustrating; the fact that I can't get up and comfort my family. The fact that I'm helpless to help them. I want to wake up.

For what could be the final time, the door swings open. My brother's footsteps echo loudly across the room and stop at the side of my bed. For a few minutes, he is quiet except for his loud breathing. Finally he begins, "I don't know what to say Alan. This sucks."

"I have to agree with you there," I mutter to myself.

"I can't say goodbye," he whispers, "I want you to stay. You can't leave me here…You're the youngest not me. I-…I can't…"he wheezes loudly and starts to cry, "You're not supposed to die saving people! Heroes shouldn't have to die…you shouldn't have to die!…"

His words no longer are recognizable because of the sobs and tormented cries that escape him. I have to wake up. I have to tell Scott that he's a wonderful leader, John that I'm not going anywhere, to tell Virg that he is not nor ever will at fault for this and tell Gordon he doesn't have to be the youngest. I need to tell my dad that he won't have to be lost any more. I want them to be back to normal. I want them to know that I love them too.

With renewed strength I push against my body. It feels as if I'm fighting something that no man has ever won against like a tornado or a hurricane. "Please mom," plead one last time , "Help me." Suddenly, my eyes snap open to reveal a medium sized hospital room, and my red-headed brother who has currently buried his head into my bed sheets, sobbing and oblivious to everything around him. I try to call out to him but something is in my throat…I cough in an attempt to get the foreign object out of me.

My brother, who has heard my coughing, yells in surprise. "Alan! Oh my God! Alan! DOCTOR!"

A frantic nurse comes running into the room with a speed I didn't think was humanly possible. She looks at me in shock for a moment before running beside me, saying, "Calm down Alan, this tube is just to help you breathe. I'm going to get it out of you okay?" I stop struggling and give a slight nod in her direction. "On the count of three cough as hard as you can, okay? 1...2...3..."

I cough and feel the tube being pulled out of my very sore throat. "Gordon?" I rasp.

My brother watches me cautiously from nearby, probably wondering if this is a dream or not. However he quickly regains his hold on reality by grasping my hand tightly. "Alan," he says, while tears stream down his cheeks, "you're here."

I give him a reassuring smile and squeeze his hand back, grateful that I can move. "Thanks mom," I think to myself. Meanwhile, Gordon wraps his arms around my lean frame and buries his head into my chest still standing. "You okay Gordo?"

Gordon releases a wet laugh, replying "You should be worried about yourself Alan. You just woke up from a freaking coma!"

"But are you okay?" I repeat insistently.

"…I'm okay now…" he whispers, giving me a small smile. Slowly, he stands up to his normal height but blatantly refuses to let go of me. I can tell he's still in shock, well that might be the understatement of the millennium considering that he's holding me so tightly I've almost lost blood circulation..

For at least five minutes Gordon switches from being overjoyed that I'm back to frenziedly apologizing for his actions. I wonder if this is how the rest of my family will react. Probably. One thing I know for sure is that I'm about to get the mother of motherings from all four of my brothers and father…Great.

However, no matter how much they mother me I don't think I can be annoyed with them. I've missed them too. Darkness has no company, it's empty and devoid of life. Fear jolting through me at the thought, I squeeze Gordon's hand against mine. He watches me worriedly, but doesn't say anything. He understands.

Without warning the door bursts open and my family rushes in faster than Thunderbird 3 takes off (I would know). Their disbelief and shock is shown on their faces. My father rushes to my side along with Scott, who is trying to tell me something but I don't understand because is talking too fast. Virgil starts crying, but this time from pure joy and John holds my other hand, while Gordon still refuses to let go of mine.

"Oh God, Oh thank God," my father whispers reverently.

I am home.

Please review. I might just do one from Scott's point of view if you do. Thanks.