Disclaimer: I don't own the Thunderbirds. I mean, if I did, there would be so much more Alan!Whump. But nope, I don't!

Sorry for any OOC-ness, this is my first Thunderbirds Fanfic, so hopefully it's not too bad. Movie-Verse.

The blade that crossed my arms wasn't one for being sharp. It wasn't sharp enough to slice into my skin without a problem. Without it hurting.

No.

The blade that crossed my skin was old, rusty and not sharp at all. It hurt like a bitch as it crossed my wrists, drawing out my blood. My blood. Blood that didn't matter in this life. From a body that was torn and ruined. Not something anyone needed in their lives.

Outside, I could hear my brothers splashing around in the pool, laughing, cheering, having a great time.

And why not? Another rescue had finished. Finished with flying colours. We'd saved everyone who needed saving, and that's all that mattered.

It mattered to me too, it really did.

I just wish that my family could see that I needed saving too.

I needed to be saved by my family, from my own mind, and my own doubts.

A knock on my door had me jumping slightly, the blade pushing into an already open cut harder, sending a spasm of pain through me.

But pain was good.

I deserved it.

Even if I wanted to be saved, I didn't deserve it. I was nothing but a burden.

A mistake.

I mean, how else do you explain the age gap between Gordon and myself? Everyone else was a year to two years, then me. Four damn years.

It didn't take a genius to figure it out.

"Alan?"

I shook myself out of my daze, and tore my sleeves down while pushing the blade under my pillow. I wiped the blood that was dribbling down my wrists and onto my hands, across the covers on my bed, before covering it with a rug.

"Come in!" I hated how my voice shook, but ignored it for the time being.

My door opened and my father poked his head in.

Jeff Tracy.

He had four amazing sons as it was, he didn't need a pathetic loser like me.

No one needed a pathetic loser like me.

"Are you okay?" He didn't close the door behind him; instead he just stood a little inside my door, sending me a worried look.

"Of course."

He sighed, his eyes sliding shut, making him look younger. He wasn't too old as it was, but looked the age of an seventy year old man.

Many of his wrinkles came from worry, or just, maybe, having a burden like me to deal with.

"Your brothers are worried about you." His eyes opened as he locked gazes with me, "and so am I."

Yeah, right. The brothers that teased me all my life, expected me to screw up in everything I did. They were basically harbouring next to physical bullying, already hitting the mental and verbal bullying stage.

They didn't care about me.

And my father, Jeff Tracy? Don't make me laugh. He happily shipped me off to boarding schools, schools I didn't even like. But did he care? No.

No one cared.

If Fermat was here, I would go and talk to him about this, he could probably help me with these feelings swirling around angrily inside me. But Fermat and Brains were on Thunderbird 5, taking their own rotation together, to allow John a break after the tragedy of Spring Break.

Tin-Tin would be the next person I'd go too.

But her parents had taken to her to Hawaii for a couple weeks. Jeff had given then time off, to collect as a family and understand each other better. He also believed Tin-Tin needed a break after the tragic Spring Break.

So, that left me and my family here alone.

I had no one to turn to, no one to run too.

"I'm fine," I pressed on, standing up and brushing past him, into the hallway.

"Alan," he spoke again, but I ignored him, "we need to talk."

"About?"

I heard him step out of my room and follow me down the hallway. I moved myself down into the kitchen, passing through the lounge and outside the back patio door.

Gordon was splashing Virgil, much to the latter's misery, and Scott was grinning as he sat at the side, his legs and feet in the water.

John was lazing on the seat next to the pool, watching as Virgil dove for Gordon, pushing the fish-boy under.

As I stepped out into the open, all the commotion stopped.

Virgil and Gordon froze, Scott's chuckling stopped and John looked up.

It made me feel awkward. Like I wasn't wanted.

But that's because you're not wanted.

I shook my head, dismissing the thoughts quickly.

"Alan, come back here," my father was saying as he too stepped out onto the back patio. He didn't seem fazed by the tense moment and instead hurried forward, grabbing my wrist, making me hiss as I spun around.

His eyes softened as his grip loosened, but that didn't stop the pressure from building up around my cuts there. Cuts that made me feel even worse.

I was a Tracy, for Christ sake. I'm stronger than this.

Or, I should be, at least.

"Come to my office," my father spoke quietly, something quite rare for him. And then he looked up, over at the pool, "all of you."

"What's going on?" Scott questioned, already standing up, his legs dripping with water as he took long strides over to me and our father.

Jeff's grip tightened on my wrist, making me wince as I felt fresh blood spurt out of one of my cuts.

I had to clean it. Desperately.

I pulled away from my dad's grip, ducking my head down as he glanced at me, worry etched across his wrinkling face.

"Alan?"

"I need to use the bathroom." I managed, turning and quickly rushing off, taking the steps two at a time.

Once I was in the bathroom, I locked the door, and then pressed my back against it for good measure.

I was so pathetic. I really was.

I shouldn't be falling this low. I shouldn't be the one in need of help.

No.

This was all messed up.

I sniffled, running my sleeve across my face and then standing up, turning the sink on. Water gushed out and into the basin, and I scrambled through the first aid kid, hoping to find something to help clean it up better, but I realized in dismay that it was all in the infirmary.

I huffed to myself, moving to the door and opening it a crack, peaking out.

The cost was clear.

I stepped out of the bathroom, closing the door gently behind me, and then scrambled down the hallway, down to the infirmary. I opened and closed those doors gently too, taking care and pride in not being caught.

Being caught would lead to questions. Questions I wouldn't be able to answer.

I moved over to the medical cabinet, opening it gently and reaching in for the betadine. I pulled it out and grabbed a fresh bandage, which I folded up and dumped some of the betadine on, I then dabbed at my cuts, hissing at the sting of the contact.

Normally, I wouldn't bother with this. But if dad wanted to have a meeting, I could risk blood pouring down my fingers.

I couldn't risk anything.

"Alan?" Virgil's voice filled the room, and I gasped, looking over my shoulder as the infirmary door opened a crack, "Alan, what are you doing in here?"

I looked down at the bloody brown mess I had made on my wrists, and then back over my shoulder.

Crap. Crap, crap, crap. No, no, no, no.

"I thought you were in the bathroom." Virgil spoke up as the door shut behind him, "what are you doing?"

"Um," I murmured, scrunching up the bandage and shoving it in my pocket as I tore my sleeves down, "I just have a bit of a headache."

"Oh..." Virgil dabbed at his wet hair with a towel as he stared at me, confusion flickering in his eyes, "the pain killers are on the other side of the room."

I felt my cheeks heat up as I slipped the betadine back into the cabinet and shut it, "oh, I guess that's why I was so confused."

"Uh-huh," Virgil blinked at me, then turned to his desk, picking up a bunch of files, "we're all waiting in dad's office, so just come there when you're done, yeah?"

"Yeah." I nodded, opening the other cupboard and pretending to reach in there, up until Virgil's back disappeared out the door, and I sighed in relief, moving back to the other cupboard to finish my job.

When I had everything cleaned up, I turned and left the infirmary, moving to my father's office, with the label on his door, clearly stating it was: Jefferson Tracy's Office.

I stopped outside the door, hearing the voices of my brothers and my father as they mingled together. My palms were sweating, and I was unsure of what to expect. But, I knew I would have to enter their sooner or later.

And it was always better to get things over and done with, so I assume it would be sooner, rather than later.

I pressed down on the handle, stepping into the room, and almost instantly did it go quiet.

Dad was sitting at his desk, Gordon sitting on the couch off to the side, and Scott and Virgil had been talking in hushed voices by the window, but were now staring at me. John was standing next to dad's desk, his platinum blonde hair shining in the light of the room.

"Alan." My father sighed, standing up, "come," he gestured for me to move forward, and then pointed at the seat in front of his desk, "sit."

I hesitated for a moment.

I couldn't be sure if I was in trouble.

The debriefing about our previous mission had gone quite swell, I don't think I screwed up to much in the rescue, and I can't trace back to anything I had done that was bad, that would deserve a lecture. Especially bad enough that all my brothers had to be here.

I know that dad wanted to talk to me.

But, couldn't he do that when it was just us?

"You're not in trouble," John spoke up, sending me a warm smile, which I shot back, although a little shaky. "Come and sit."

I nodded a little, moving forward and tugging on my sleeves as I sat in the seat, albeit hesitantly.

When I was situated in the seat, father leaned forward, resting his hands on the table as he stared at me with those eyes of me.

"Alan..." He breathed, shutting his eyes, then snapping them open again and looking at me sternly, but... But he still managed to look gentle. "Alan, you know you can talk to us, right?"

I bit my lip. No, I didn't know.

But I wouldn't let them know that.

No, instead I nodded, moving forward a little and tucking my arms around my stomach, the wrists facing inwards.

"We've, uh, well, we've received a bit of... Interesting information, from the camera's set up around the house."

"Cameras?" I echoed, confused. I didn't know we had camera's all over the house. I know we had surveillance cameras in the backyard, and randomly around the island, and in the silo's, and the infirmary, but not in the house otherwise.

"They were mostly a precaution, in case something like Spring Break happened again," my dad continued, and I flinched as I remembered the close encounter I had had with being the last Tracy in the world, and then the near death experience. "But, well, we've picked up something else."

His gaze only barely flickered across my arms, and John visibly tensed next to him. Out the corner of my eyes, I saw Scott and Virgil shuffle nervously, and Gordon nibbling on his lower lip, which quickly turned to his nails.

"Oh?" Play it cool, Alan. Play it cool.

"Answer something for me, Alan. And I want you to be as truthful as possible."

I felt my stomach sink at his words.

They knew.

"Okay."

My father sighed, pushing against the desk as he stood up. He looked a lot older now.

I was doing this. I was pressuring my father, making him sick. Making him worry. I didn't want him to worry.

"Alan, Allie, are you... Happy?"

My breathing hitched at that.

Was I happy? I didn't know.

I felt happy, knowing that my family was safe. But, deep inside, where my treacherous feelings boiled, I let out my true monster. My true, unhappy, monster.

Happy.

I was happy when I wasn't by myself. Because, if I was by myself, the thoughts could catch up and devour my maturity and any part of me that tried to make sense. Being alone would do that to anyone.

"Why?"

Dad shook his head, moving around the desk to rest against it, just in front of me.

"It's a simple, yes, no, answer."

He leaned forward, catching my hands in his gently. Behind me, hands connected with my shoulders, digging in soothingly, relaxing me.

My gaze flickered around to the brothers I could see, which was everyone, except Gordon, proving who was standing behind me, pushing the tension from my body.

"They only want to know the answer, Allie. No one's going to judge you, I promise." My father rubbed his thumb across my knuckles, and I flinched as he slowly slid them down to my wrists, catching me off guard only slightly. "You don't seem happy."

"I-I'm-" I was cut off as my father's hands pushed at my sleeves, and he slowly, ever so slowly, turned my arms over. "I-"

John's shoulders tensed as his gaze flickered across my arms, and I watched as Scott ran a hand over his face, while Virgil just covered his mouth. Behind me, Gordon's breathing hitched slightly, and I felt his hands tremble against my shoulders as he continued to push his fingers into the tight knots in my skin.

"Oh, Allie," my father sighed, shaking his head a little as he stared up at me. I could feel the water works as they pushed at the back of my eyes, but Ii fought to control them. "Oh, baby, my baby boy."

He stood up straight, pulling me up to my feet. Gordon's hands dropped from my shoulders, and instantly my father's arms wrapped around me. He pressed my head into his shoulder, while his other hand ran soothing circles along my back.

"Don't hate me," I managed to gasp out, while trying to keep the tears at bay. "Please. Please, don't hate me."

He shook his head, pressing a kiss to my temple. "I could never hate you, Allie. None of us could. Your brothers love you. I love you. It's going to be okay."

I nodded, feeling numb as a tear pushed its way free. One tear easily lead to many. And before I knew it, I couldn't see anything because of the tears blurring my vision.

"Scott," my father called after a while, "Scott, take your brother."

I felt a hand on my back a second later, and then Scott's scent as he wrapped me up in a hug. This was the smell I had come accustomed too. Scott had practically raised me, when my own father was so caught up in work.

And I didn't blame him, or hate him for that.

His working kept food on the table and gave us an education, and lead to this beautiful paradise, where we helped those in need.

"Hey, Allie," Scott whispered, rubbing my back, "you're going to be okay, yeah?"

I hiccupped against his chest, nodding against his warmth.

"I'm going to contact Brains and Fermat, see if they could possibly stay up on Five for a little longer," my father said, and I felt his presence move away from me, only to be replaced with three others. "I'll also contact the Kyrano's, tell them to take their vacation for a while longer."

"Maybe we should put IR off for a while, just a couple weeks." Gordon spoke up, and I wanted to pull back and decline that straight away, but Scott's larger hand cupped the back of my head, halting any movement I wanted to make.

"Dad," John murmured, his hand joining Scott's to rub my back gently, "this is more serious than we first thought."

"I'm aware," dad replied with a sigh, and I choked on a sob.

I didn't want them to find out. I knew this would happen. They would take it upon themselves to stop everything for a while, and get frustrated with it, only to take that anger out on me.

I knew this would happen.

"Shh, shh," John whispered, and Scott kissed my temple, much like dad had before. "It's okay."

But it wasn't.

"We'll get through this."

I was desperate to shake them off, to tell them we wouldn't, but I knew it was too late now, and all I could do, was hope that they were right.

Things would start to get better. Eventually. Hopefully.

And when that happened, I would feel better. Maybe my bond with my family would be stronger, but in all reality, only time would tell.

It just meant I had to trust them.

And that, I think, is something I could do.

Well, I hope you liked it. Feel free to drop a review! But, I don't want any hate. No one forced you to read this, so I don't expect anything rude.

Thanks for reading!