Disclaimer: The Thunderbirds do not belong to me. They belong to their respective owners. This is written purely for entertainment, and no monetary gain is made from this, more's the pity, because I'm a broke uni student, and I could use the cash. Any original characters that may pop up, however, are of my own creation, and do belong to me.

AN: The sequel to I'll Be Back Soon, something to fill in the gaps.

I know I said I wasn't going to work on two major pieces at the same time ever again, but I've had a recent influx of PM's asking me about the sequel. So, to satisfy the crowds, I'm posting.

I will give you fair warning, though; updates may be sporadic, as I do have another story to complete, as well as work and uni commitments (and they'll always come before fanfiction.)

Now, moving on, I hope y'all enjoy the first chapter of All Together Now.

All Together Now

Putting back the pieces of a shattered life and a shattered family was never going to be an easy task.

Stepping off the plane, and basking in the heat and humidity that crossed them, the two Tracy brothers headed for the nearest rental car desk.

"Wouldn't have expected Scott to move here," the elder of the two commented, pulling his sunglasses over his eyes and sweeping sweat-matted peroxide hair out of his face, fanning himself with his hand. "It's way too muggy, and I know he's not humidity's number one fan."

"Well, it's Scott. He does what people least expect him to do," the chestnut haired Tracy replied. "Remind me; how exactly did you find him?"

A sly grin from John. He was famous within the Tracy clan for being extremely good with computers, especially since he could hack into secured databases, gather information and get out of there before anyone could trace him. Firewalls stood no chance against him.

"What you don't know, little brother, can't hurt you."

They approached the front of the desk. A quick game of rock-paper-scissors-lizard-Spock determined that while the car would be loaned out under John's name, it was Virgil who would be paying for it, much to his discontentment. Keys safely placed in John's hand, Virgil armed himself with a map. Neither brother was too familiar with the layout of Hawaii, and Virgil being entrenched in old fashioned ideals, insisted on planning out the road trip with a hard copy map instead of a GPS system.

"Johnny, straight down the highway. I'll tell you when the exit is, but after that, you'll need to turn left, then right, another right and then left again."

John nodded in understanding, before marching out to the rental car, loading up the boot and strapping himself into the driver's seat. Virgil opened his mouth to protest, but John cut him off with a swift, "The car's registered under my name. I'm driving. Besides, this is a stick shift; you'd burn the clutch out before we reach the highway."

Discontent, Virgil slid into the shotgun position, crossed his arms over his chest and sulked, in the only way a twenty year old could.

"Remind me," John said, blowing his sweat soaked lock of hair off his forehead as he leaned against a wall in the apartment complex Virg and he had managed to sneak into. His t-shirt, however, had succumbed to the sweltering heat, as it was absolutely drenched in perspiration. "When did you learn to pick locks, Virgil?"

Slightly muffled, thanks to the credit card that was lodged between his teeth, Virgil replied, "What you don't know, big brother, can't hurt you. Now shush, I'm trying to concentrate."

John fell duly silent. A surreptitious glance up and down the communal hallway. It wouldn't do for them to be caught trespassing and subsequently arrested before they had committed the ultimate crime; breaking and entering into their eldest brother's apartment.

A slight grin from Virgil as he heard cylinders in the lock shift out of place. Placing his hand on the doorknob – it was surprisingly low, as was the lock itself – Virgil pushed the door open and stepped inside. Once John was inside, he closed the door, hearing the click as the lock slid back into place.

The apartment took John by surprise. It was definitely a masculine flat, minimalist in design – the leather sofa, flat screen television set and glass furnishing all attested to that – but there was something that didn't sit quite right with John. Scott, at 6"2', was a tall man, and he hated anything that was ridiculously low to reach. Everything in the flat looked like it had been made to cater for someone who was, well, a lot shorter than that. Possibly, probably, 4"6' instead.

"You're sure you have the right address?" Virgil hissed, heading straight for the fridge. Clearly, he had the same reservations John had.

"Yeah. This is what I got from the database."

"Here." Virgil handed John a water bottle he had found in the fridge. "I figured we could both use some hydration."

John gulped down the contents, grateful for the water, before moving to the bedroom. If there was any clue as to whether this was Scott's place of residence, it would be there.

Once again, everything was at a height that was ideal for a midget. The bedclothes were rumpled and unmade, something that was a pet peeve of Scott's. In his peripheral vision, John spotted a wheelchair. Doubt rose up inside of him; maybe Virgil was right, maybe he had gotten the wrong apartment.

But maybe he hadn't, for on the bedside dresser was a wallet. With a feeling of trepidation, John flipped it open, coming face to face with an identification card. This was Scott's place, no doubt about it. Cornflower blue eyes darted back to the wheelchair, and his heart sank.

Oh no, Scotty, what happened to you?

Backing out of the room, John nodded his head to Virg. "This is the right place."

A moment of silence, and each brother could hear muffled voices outside.

"John? What do we do?"

The decision – whether to flee or remain put – was taken out of their hands.

The door swung open.

John and Virgil came face to face with… empty space. Then they glanced down and saw Scott. He appeared to be frozen in the wheelchair he was sitting in. From behind him, another person in a wheelchair jolted Scott back to reality by asking a question.

"Scott? Do you know them?"

"Not anymore," he responded, eyeing them beadily, hand clenching down on the basketball that he held, as he wheeled himself over the threshold.

Tension shrouded the room, thicker than cold custard. The muscle twitched near Scott's left eye, a sure sign that he was peeved off. Virgil drew in a shaky breath, a sure sign that he was nervous, and if he admitted it, slightly scared of his eldest brother. Virgil was sure that there was no way Scott would throw a punch at his family members, so he wasn't worried about his physical safety. No, it was the look of disappointment, of hurt and betrayal Virgil could see in Scott's eyes that made him nervous. Sometimes, damning silence was worse than screaming voices.

"Sooo, I'm guessing we're not kicking back with a cold beer, Scott. Looks like you three have some stuff to sort out. See you next week, yeah?"

"Yeah, yeah, next week," Scott replied distractedly, eyes never leaving the brothers that stood in front of him. The silence that blanketed the room was broken as the door closed back into place and locked with a soft click.

"Scott?" John ventured, uncertain of what to say. So much about Scott remained as he remembered, and yet, so much had changed.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't call the cops on your asses."

Stunned silence.

"One good reason," Scott repeated, reaching for the phone.

"We're your brothers?" The response seemed incredulous.

"Then consider this your warning and get out! And if you trespass on my property again, I will call the cops and press charges."

"Virg, let's go."

Virgil didn't move.

"Virg!" John tugged impatiently on his sleeve. John was astute enough to know that they had pushed the wrong buttons.

"It was you I saw," Virgil said slowly. "You came to my place in Denver, didn't you?"

"It was a mistake. My mistake. I shouldn't have done it," Scott said coldly. "However, it will be your mistake if you don't leave. Now!"

This time, when John tugged Virgil's arm again, Virgil offered up no resistance. With one more hurt look shot Scott's way, Virgil closed the door behind him.

A soft, frustrated groan escaped Scott's lips once he knew they were away from him. He had carved out a nice life for himself, completely independent of anyone who had the potential to coddle him just because he was wheelchair bound. He was getting by on his own, no fraternal interference needed. Why did his brothers have to do this to him?

Life had been so simple for the eldest Tracy, but it seemed that circumstance had thrown a spanner in the works.