White Out

Disaclaimer - For the last time, don't own Thunderbirds, Numb3rs and still making payments on an eight-year-old car.

Epilogue

Headmaster Phillip Bean looked over the gathered friends and family of the latest graduates of Wharton's Academy for Boys and gave a gentle smile, one designed to comfort and assure worried parents – and lure potential donors. After the black eyes the school had received, twice in two years, and both because of former student Kyle Westcott, moments like this were ones to savor.

And milk for all they were worth.

"The next student speaker," Bean explained, now that they had heard from the Valedictorian, Fermat Hackenbacker, "would have spoken today due to his place as Student Body President. But he is also the Student Elected Speaker, chosen by his classmates in an overwhelming majority."

OK, so it was by the biggest majority ever.

Bean nodded to one of the young men on stage, wishing once more that Jeff Tracy would have allowed Alan to do publicity for the school. With his good looks, athletic build, noble bearing and clever mind, Alan was what the school considered "ideal". Consider it how you may, but the camera would have loved Alan.

"So without further ado, may I introduce the Student Body President and Class Elected Speaker, Alan Shepard Tracy."

Enthusiastic applause greeted Alan's approach to the podium. Personally, Alan was just glad that Sarah and Virgil had approved removing the sling so he didn't have to wear it for graduation. His bullet wound still pulled but it was manageable. Looking out at the audience, he smiled at his gathered family.

There was his Dad, smiling proudly. They still had to talk about what had happened at his old school – Alan was just glad the FBI was able to keep his name out of the papers, at least in regards to that. He had heard that the monster responsible was in prison and with the evidence found at his home they had enough actual victims that Alan's testimony could be considered only prejudicial.

Jeff had wanted to talk about it, but between an emergency with a merger in Japan and a volcano in Italy, the Tracy Patriarch had been a bit busy, just barely managing to get back to Massachusetts in time for his youngest son's graduation. Frankly, Alan was relieved. But soon they would be heading back to Tracy Island and Alan dreaded the unavoidable "talk" that would come about.

On one side of Jeff was Don Eppes, his wife Robin and Amita Eppes. Both women gave him thumbs' ups while Don gave a nod of approval. Of the three, Alan had only gotten to speak briefly with Amita as she had helped Charlie Eppes with his outfit, the woman fussing as she muttered "how did you do this before you married me". Alan chuckled when Charlie had mouthed over her bent head "my parents".

Next to the Eppes were Tomo, still walking with crutches and his girlfriend. While Tommy had smiled and clapped loudly when Alan was called up, Gina's smile failed to meet her eyes and her applause was uninspiring to say the least. The dirty looks she had been giving Alan since after the shooting was unsettling. As if it was his fault Tommy couldn't travel to Japan with her! Alan wanted his honorary big brother to be happy, but unlike the women who had married his three oldest brothers, Alan just knew that this woman was not the one who would make Tomo happy. How to tell him that was not something that came easily but maybe when he went to visit Tommy in New York this summer he could find an opening.

Speaking of the women who had made his brothers happy, Alan grinned and winked at one of them. Sarah Jane Woodbury had been part of Alan's life since he was a baby but now seeing her, sitting next to Virgil, his big brother proudly patting Sarah's belly as if to make his unborn child clap as well, Alan's smile grew. He really couldn't wait to get another nephew – it was the next best thing until he and Tin-Tin had kids of their own.

As long he didn't have to deliver any more Baby Tracys.

But the woman who made Alan happy was also sitting there. Tin-Tin beamed up at him, the promise ring he had given her for her birthday after she had arrived with Brains two days ago, catching the light when she gave him a tiny wave. Alan gave a small sigh. That was what he wanted for Tomo – and Gordon.

Speaking of his red-headed fiend of a sibling, Gordon had compromised on his agreement to behave by staying as far as possible from Tomo. Seated on the other side of Tin-Tin, Gordon was clapping and whistling, refusing to hush no matter how much Alan's girlfriend nudged him. It took the twin glares from Jeff Tracy and Don Eppes to make the copper top hush.

Alan looked over the crowd, grinning at his friends and classmates, he took a deep breath and just hoped not to make too big a fool of himself. He had looked at a variety of speeches and had to say, had been most inspired by the clip Kate had sent him from Daria Delgado's graduation – the FBI agent was still trying to figure out where the hell Kate had gotten it from.

"Mark Twain once said – Always do right. This will gratify some people and astonish the rest. Doing the right thing isn't always the easy thing. I guess if it was, everyone would do it, wouldn't they?"

"The graduates of a school like Wharton's are not like a typical graduating class. Many of us come from wealth and privilege. Even those who do not, are gifted – either academically or athletically, and sometimes both. We will be in a position as years go by to influence society. Regardless of if it is a small town or the global stage, what many of us do will affect those who fall within our sphere of influence. Make these effects positive. It is better to have been a big fish in a small pond than to take the easy way and making other see it as "acceptable". Taking drugs, taking advantage or taking the easy way out – they all start with taking. We have a responsibility to give back. Teach some kids to play ball, help find solutions for global energy, become a doctor – it doesn't matter how. Just give from your heart and you will make the world a better place."

"My challenge to you is this – become a person that when one of your classmates hears another speak of you, we will proudly say "I knew him when".

"Becoming wealthy or famous or powerful – it is the goal of so many in this world, they forget to live. In the words of the Bard - "Nothing is so common as the wish to be remarkable". But you can be remarkable to the world and ignoble to your family. Don't be. Be the son, the father, the brother, the husband, the friend – be the man that will be remembered in hearts and cherished forever. Making the history books or having your name on a building is cool, I guess. But books are rewritten and parts are dropped. Buildings can fall to the forces of nature – or hostile takeovers." Alan got a few chuckles from the business men in the crowd on that one. "Be the man I know each of you have the potential to be. Good luck graduates. It's a big world out there and it's time for each of us to prove our mettle."

Alan smiled once more and turned to leave the podium, when Headmaster Bean joined him once more. "I will ask Alan to stay here as I have another award to present. If our guests glanced at the program, you can see that Alan here won two of the top awards – Student Athlete and Most Popular. Alan brushes them off, saying that they are – how did you phrase it? Oh yes, cool."

Laughter greeted that as Alan ducked his head and blushed. Bean chuckled and patted Alan's shoulder.

"Alan felt those awards were not as important, compared to those who won academic awards. I would like to point out that Alan also won the Fine Arts Award, with many of his teachers saying his writing is something that, if he continues with his current promise, is something we will be reading in the years to come. Alan also tied for the vocational studies award, with his work in engineering coming to be regarded as what we would not be seeing from a high school senior, but rather as something a college graduate with years of experience, should be presenting. Given his background, we shouldn't be surprised by anything Alan accomplishes, but yet he has continually surprised us in so many ways."

"But this award that needs to be presented is a reflection that the staff knows that Alan will be as remarkable as his promise shows. We once called it the Most Likely to Succeed, but since we want all of our students to succeed, we chose to call this the Wharton Torch Award – the light which will lead our graduates on. So may I present, Alan Tracy, this year's winner. May your light shine on."

"Um, thanks headmaster," Alan blushed as he took the plaque, smiling and waving to the crowd which was once more clapping. He used the noise to whisper, "I don't have to make another speech, do I?"

Bean chuckled. "No – but let me wish you all the success in the world, Mr. Tracy. You may have gotten off on a rocky start, but you have exceeded all our expectations."

Alan grinned. "And may I make a wish for you headmaster – which is that you never get another student like me." At Bean's look of confusion, Alan chuckled. "OK, make that another student like me when I first got here. I'll take this award to mean you are good with me these days."

Shaking his head, the headmaster grinned as well.

Soon, Alan was surrounded by family, taking picture after picture. He had been kissed and hugged so much, he felt more like one of the babies – something that if he had said aloud, someone would have pointed out that he was still their baby.

Glancing at Gordon, standing to the side, talking with Charlie and Amita Eppes, Alan sighed when he realized that his brother was still shooting glares at Tomo. Then again, Gina was standing slightly behind Tomo and glaring at Alan.

He just couldn't win.

"So, Alan," Tomo was saying. "Your father and my mother were talking, and since I won't be heading to Japan, I will be starting my internship early. And I understand you will be working on a project this summer, so...think we can catch a game or three?"

"What kind of game?" Don asked as he approached the pair.

"Baseball," Alan said. "I like to catch a couple of the Red Sox, Yankee games per year. Anything to see the Yankees go down, down, down."

"Not another baseball fanatic," Robin Eppes groaned.

Jeff laughed. "No – he just dislikes the Yankees. And no other group of fans dislikes them as much as the Red Sox. Jeannie Bates had too big an influence on him. Her father was a rabid Mets fan."

"What has being a Red Sox fan have to do with being influenced by a Mets fan?" Gina asked with pseudo interest.

Don laughed. "Because you can substitute almost any team for the first part of this phrase: I support two teams – the Red Sox and whoever beats the Yankees."

Alan was accepting a hug from Robin at that moment as she rolled her eyes once more. The teen just grinned and gave her a small kiss on the cheek, assuring her, "You look great, Aunt Robin." Robin and Don had insisted that their non-son-in-law Tracys start calling them aunt and uncle, since they were already doing that with Charlie and Amita.

"Please," Robin shook her head. "How can you say that when you have two such lovely ladies to compare me with?" (Gina was annoyed to realize Robin was gesturing to Tin-Tin and Sarah.) "Not with these wrinkles."

Alan just kissed her cheek again and said, "Now, while seeking inspiration for my speech, I found another Twain quote that fits – Wrinkles should merely indicates where smiles have been." I repeat, you look lovely."

"And now I see how Scott wooed Katie so quickly," Charlie murmured as he joined the group.

"Tomo," Gina interrupted. "You may not be joining me, but I do still need to get to the airport. And you are my ride, aren't you?"

Tomo rolled his eyes before reaching out to clasp Alan's shoulder. "I'll see you in New York in a few weeks, Ototo."

As Tomo walked away, he held in a sigh at the glare Gordon Tracy had given him at the nickname. Gordon had behaved himself but this was still annoying. Tomo had been shot trying to protect Alan – what, did he have to die in order for the red-head to lay off?

Waving once more at Alan, Tomo smiled. Tomorrow was another day, wasn't it Scarlett? He'd worry about it then.

Emily was running Command and Control, what with more than half of IR at Alan's graduation and Kate up on Five – it was the only way this would work.

"We're on our way back, Base," John's voice came over clearly. "Everything good at home?"

Glancing at the two sleeping babies in the playpen, Emily smiled. "Yes. And I have been assured that the, um, documentary will be ready for viewing once you get here."

"Sounds good, Base," Scott said. He was glad that they had been able to help, and it proved they could be adaptable as their growing families needed them to be.

Once they were sure the men were occupied with the return flight, Kate opened a channel that would keep them out of it. "OK, Emily – spill. What has had you so cranky lately?" Kate stilled and quickly asked, "Are you preggers?"

Emily held back tears. "No. And the chances of us having another baby are close to zilch."

"Well, there are all kinds of fertility experts -" Kate began only to have Emily interrupt.

"No, John is the one saying no more," Emily explained. At Kate's curious look, she continued.

"I don't want the rest of the family to know – Not until John and I can talk about it some more. But you know how I had some problems when Elizabeth was born?"

Kate nodded. She hadn't been there, but Sarah had been badly shaken by the experience, with Emily's blood pressure shooting up and the baby's fetal heartbeat becoming erratic, forcing the young woman to perform an emergency c-section.

"Turns out there is some family history of pregnancy induced cardiomyopathy. And of course, Susan Haas never told me."

Kate flinched at how coldly Emily referred to her own mother. Then again, the woman really didn't deserve the title.

"At least three top experts in the field have told me I was lucky to have Elizabeth and that John and I should not consider more children. And if I do, I will have to spend the entire pregnancy being very carefully monitored."

"What does John say?" Kate asked.

"That he needs me more than he needs another child," Emily said. "But as much as he loves Elizabeth, I see him with Jason. He would love another baby – maybe a son."

Shaking her head, Emily looked up at Kate. "Can we talk about something else?"

"Like what?" Kate said, forcing her tone to become cheerful.

"Did you father mention where Kyle Westcott was shipped off to? I hope it is a more secure location. Since he violated parole, I know he was immediately incarcerated, but Dad just assured us it was taken care of. But I don't like him being in the same state as Alan."

"He isn't," Kate said, her cheer less forced now. "He's been sent off to Joliet."

Emily was stunned for a moment. The former maximum security prison had been closed in 2002 only to reopen years later as a "tiered" prison. A portion of it was a Supermax prison, but even in the "step-down" you had to have broken some serious laws or be considered a grievous threat to be sent to that particular facility.

"Don't you have to at least be a murderer to go there?" Emily asked before looking sad. "The second gang member – the one that tried to help. He didn't make it, did he?"

Kate shook her head. "Dad said no. He didn't have any family left, so he was cremated and placed with his father."

Emily looked like she wanted to say something else but two sounds distracted her – Jason beginning to wake and Thunderbird One arriving – the boys having only taken the one bird. "We'll talk later," Emily said.

"I'll be down in a few days," Kate said. "We'll talk then."

Emily turned off the communications, noting that Thunderbird One was coming in for a final approach even as she went to pick up Jason. Cuddling the one-year-old against her shoulder, her heart ached for the additional babies she longed to have.

Soon the two babies were being held, and an impromptu movie night of sorts was being held, the video of Alan's graduation being watched and exclaimed over with as much delight as if they had been there live. Now was not the time for sorrow or grief – life was too short for that. Everything else could wait until tomorrow.

In a hospital in Omaha, a young man looked sadly out a window, watching a bird in a tree outside. Even a bird had a family, he thought with a sense of profound loss. He ignored the door opening until a familiar voice spoke up.

Daria Delgado stood next to the bed Javi was sitting on. "Witness Protection will be picking you up today, Javier."

Javi finally turned from the window. "Was the information I gave on the Blades that useful?"

"The Blades was a gang that believed in networking," Daria said with a smirk. "The intel you gave us has crippled half a dozen criminal enterprises. That has earned you one official fresh start. As of next month, you will be living somewhere west of the Rockies – not sure just where – and you will be enrolled in some kind of educational or vocational program – not sure what. I wish I could tell you to keep in touch, but it's against the rules of the program. So just promise me that you will take advantage of your second chance – not everyone gets one."

Thinking of Nico, of so many other young men he had known growing up who were all dead now, Javi nodded sadly. When he had discovered that Nico was to be buried in a pauper's grave, no real marker or anything, he asked that the gang leader be interned with his own parents. The cremated body actually had given more credence to his own "death" so the government had been happy to comply.

Once Agent Delgado had left, Javi sighed and picked up a book someone had left behind. It was just a bit of a distraction, but it often helped. Fingering the business card he was using as a bookmark, Javi glanced at the card for Doctor Charles Eppes of Cal-Sci – and tried to ignore the trace of blood that tinged the edge of the card. It had been too close...

Setting down the book, Javi sighed. He wondered where he would go. He wondered what he would do. He wondered...he wondered what his name would be.

Closing his eyes, Javi drifted off to sleep. He would worry about that tomorrow. For now, he was just too tired...

In Illinois, Kyle Westcott leaned against the wall, seated on a low bench at the edge of the exercise yard. Looking up, he saw a small plane, probably a private jet, streaking across the sky. For a moment, he thought of Alan Tracy and wondered if it could be him...Nah. Daddy was probably still letting the little prince party in style.

"Someday," Kyle muttered. "Someday I'll get you, Tracy."

"Words to live by," a voice said softly, sitting down beside Kyle. Jack Mitchell smiled at Kyle, patting his arm. "You broke me out of this place once, Kyle. We'll figure something out – and together, we will get back at the Tracys once and for all."

"You sure?" Kyle asked, his youth and desperation showing for a moment with the only person he actually trusted.

"Have I ever let you down, little brother?" Jack said, patting Kyle's shoulder before glaring at one of the other inmates. No one knew of their relationship – but everyone knew the new kid was under Mitchell's protection. Nobody was going to hurt his kid brother again. Kyle may have been a half-brother – same mother, different fathers – but he was the only person in the world Mitchell actually loved and he knew Kyle felt the same way. Together, they would get through this.

They would think on it tomorrow.

High above the Midwestern skies, Alan sighed. He knew they had to go straight home – it was lucky that the simple rescue could be handled by just two Tracys and the locals. Vesuvius hadn't had a big blow-out in years and they just needed some help with coordinating the efforts. John and Scott should already be home by now. Leaning back, Alan smiled as he listened to his family talk. Brains and Fermat were flying the jet, both excited that they were heading back up to Five together and were more than happy to give the Tracys some alone time.

Tin-Tin leaned against Alan, smiling up at her boyfriend even as he closed his eyes, leaning back into the comfortable seat. Alan was never more at peace then when he was surrounded by family. To Gordon's annoyance, the youngest Tracy son felt he was leaving one brother behind. Alan would really have to talk to Gordon about that...Tomo was his family as much as Gordon and he couldn't bear it if he lost any of his family.

Alan opened his eyes briefly, ready to say something to his girlfriend when he felt a full body shudder rattle through him.

"Son?"

Alan focused, seeing Jeff – hell, his whole family present – looking at him in concern. "I'm ok, Dad. Just – what did Grandma call it? A goose passing my grave?"

Jeff reached over and squeezed his son's hand. He didn't tell his youngest that Ruth Tracy had only said that when she had felt something ominous was on the horizon. Alan was just probably frazzled over all that had happened recently and the talk they still had to have about what happened at his old school.

Well, they would worry about that tomorrow. Today was for the living.

And life was good.

~fin~

A/N - So...this journey is at an end. Need to get some things off my plate, need to work on a couple of other items...need to get some sleep.

Thanks for the support. I was upset to realize I had raised some disturbing memories for a few of my readers in the last chapter. For that I am sorry, as I have some of the best readers in fan fiction. But I have worked with abuse survivors (I refuse to call them victims, because they are some of the most amazing people I know) since I was twenty-one and a friend of mine was beaten, raped and left to die. She was only eighteen and spent more than two years in a vegatative state before her father died, allowing her brother to let her go, something her father never could. She officially died on her twenty first birthday. Her assailant spent less than six years in prison, before killing himself and three others in a drunk driving incident. I am a full believer in karma, and Alan's tormenter will definately pay for his sins. No, you have not heard the last of this issue.

For those who have reviewed, pm'd and generally encouraged me, thank you. This work is my stress relief and what I need to get me through some very dark days. For the cows who do not support writers - epsecially those who thought a child being abused was "Funny" - you need therapy. If you have the guts, ID yourself, preferably to a good shrink. You will continued to be deleted, so why are you bothering? It doesn't bother me any more as I have decided you are probably off your psych drugs.

I am taking some time off. Will be back in a few weeks, so take care. Love to all. - CC