A/N: No words can express how sorry I am for keeping this story on hold for such a long time. I've been so caught up in school that I've hardly had time for anything. I'm on holidays now, though, so that'll help me with updating, hopefully.

I was also re-reading my previous chapters and I am absolutely mortified at spelling mistakes and grammar errors that I actually know better than to make. So I'll be going back through them at some stage, but I'll let you all know when I have.

Thank you for sticking with this story, no words can express my gratitude toward you all for actually staying and reading.

Disclaimer: I don't own the Thunderbirds.

Imagine if you died.

No.

Would anybody care?

Of cour-

No. No, they'd be so happy. So happy. Small, young, pathetic Alan would be gone. Alan, who was a mere waste of space. Gone. They'd rejoice.

No, they love me-

Love you? Don't make me laugh. They just want somebody to coddle.

No.

When you're all better they'll ship you off, again. So quickly, a mere snap of the fingers and you're gone. Who's Alan? They'll ask. Nobody, they'll answer.

You're wrong.

Am I-?

"Alan!"

My eyes snapped opened as I jolted away, my shirt clinging to me as a cold sweat took over my body. I could feel my hands trembling as I blinked around the dark room, my eyes landing on John who was sitting beside me, his palm at the back of my neck, steadying me.

"Are you okay?" He questioned lightly, his words soft. Softer than usual.

"Of course," I whispered back hoarsely. I cleared my throat, desperate for some water to soothe it as I tried to sit myself back up. John didn't remove his hand as he helped me into a somewhat upright position and I didn't fight him when he placed his other hand to my back, helping me get off the couch. I stumbled for a moment, looking around the lounge room and seeing the credits of a movie rolling up the television while the other occupants slept on.

I gazed down at the sleeping faces of my brothers, noticing my father wasn't in the room. Perhaps he had left to sleep in his own bed. God knows it's a lot more comfortable than the couch, let alone the floor.

Gordon made some kind of whimpering noise in his sleep, something I hadn't heard from my almost twenty-one year old brother. Scott's hand was out in a flash, although his face never moved form the neutral sleeping one he had plastered on. I watched as his hand slid into Gordon's hair, my immediate older brother relaxing almost instantly at the touch. I continued to watch for a moment before John pressed a firmer hand to my back. I didn't look at him as I stepped over my brothers to head to the kitchen, trying to ignore the never-ending presence of John.

Once in the kitchen, I turned on the small light above the bench, not wanting to wake my brothers with the larger one. I moved to the fridge, pulling out the large glass jug of water. John moved behind me, taking two glasses down from the cupboard and setting them onto the bench as I continued to stand there, holding the heavy glass jug.

"Alan?" I flinched at John's voice, my heart fluttering violently as the glass almost slid from my grip. John came out of nowhere, his hand grabbing the cool water from me and placing it on the bench behind me. "We don't want anymore accidents."

Because I'm just an accident.

I watched him carefully as he poured a couple of glasses of water, sliding mine along to me and then placing the jug back in the fridge. Probably to make sure I didn't clumsily drop it.

"Bad dream?" John questioned as he stepped around the counter to stand opposite me.

"Huh?"

John offered me a shallow smile as he gestured to the lounge room. "You were whimpering in your sleep-"

"I was asleep?" I whispered, almost in awe. John's eyebrow rose in question as he nodded and I quickly dropped my face to take a sip from the glass.

"Yeah, in a really deep one, too." John explained, setting his glass on the bench. "Alan, are you okay?"

"Of course."

He shook his head. "Tell me honestly."

I swallowed, looking down at the water. If I told him, he'd worry. He'd tell the others. I'd be coddled even more than I currently was. I don't know if I could that. I wanted to be loved, to know that I was cared about, but I didn't want it because something was wrong. I wanted it because I was their brother, not their little brother, but their brother. Their equal. I wanted it because my father loved me just as much as he loved my brothers, not less and surely not more.

"I just-" I swallowed, my throat feeling tight as I clenched my fingers around the glass. "I don't know what-"

"You don't know what?" John prompted, placing his glass in the sink. I watched his movement.

"I'm scared."

The words floated out of my mouth, swirling around the room for a little while as I dragged in a shallow breath. John didn't say anything as he wiped his hands on a dish towel.

I had said it now, I couldn't not say it.

"I- I don't want you to get fed up with me."

"Alan, we could ne-"

"Wait," I held up a trembling finger, forgetting about the glass in my hands. I remembered it the second it hit the ground, smashing everywhere. I blinked, turning to look down at the glass. I went to step back but John's harsh voice stopped me.

"Don't move."

He had never snapped at me before. I swallowed, my throat contracting as I stopped my movement. I looked around rapidly, hoping the sound hadn't woken any of my brothers, or dad. Crap.

"Allie-" John's voice dropped back to the normal level as he grabbed a dustpan and brush, kneeling down. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap-"

"It's fine."

"Stop it," he voice took on an edge as he looked up at me, his blue eyes blazing. "Stop saying it's fine. It is not fine. There's nothing fine about this." He took a deep breath, standing up to slide the glass into the bin. "You said you were scared. Of what? Tell me."

I looked around, making sure there wasn't any glass around me as I stepped over to John carefully. When I was there, a soft gasp escaped me while his arms enveloped me. I rested my head against his chest, my own arms wrapping around him tightly. Security was something I was currently craving. Not the kind of security all my brothers gave me when they coddled and smothered me, but the kind when just one of them held me like this.

I inhaled, "I'm scared you'll get sick of me. I don't want to be needy, but I don't know what to do. For so long I've been in control." I exhaled. My fingers dug into John's sleep shirt. I didn't want him to let me go. "I can't let that control go easily. I've been in control of my pain. My desperation to feel something other than emptiness."

John cut me off, "don't you feel sad, though? When we- When we shipped you away for school?"

I swallowed thickly, "I did."

"Did?" John echoed.

I nodded against his chest, "I stopped feeling sad after a while. I stopped being able to laugh whenever someone at school cracked a joke. I felt like my heart was being hollowed out. I felt empty and I didn't like it."

"The teasing didn't help," John murmured against my head. "Nothing we did helped you."

"You didn't know," I objected for him, but John shushed me.

"So you went to self-harm," his voice dipped there. "And then you went to throw yourself off the roof."

I flinched at that. I don't know what I had been thinking and it scared me. What if I did that again.

"It was all to feel in control? We've taken that control away from you."

"Ye- No!" I cut myself off. I pulled back from my brother, looking up in the eyes that looked like mine. "No, you guys had nothing to do with it."

"Allie, it's okay. We've accepted it." He nodded toward the lounge room where our brothers were sleeping. "Even dad. It's just a matter of us righting the wrong we did."

I licked my chapped lips, staring at him carefully as he pulled me in for one more tight hug.

"We will fix this. As a family."