Immediate Thunderbirds are Go Shorts

salted chips and few shots of brandy

First published June 25.

Alan is me in this fic.

I suck at giving titles, I apologize.

Contains language. Just slight.

****

Late night and Scott's at his father's desk, busy with the reports. He still stays up at night, like he usually did back then. His father was out for the night to meet with his friends in a research center somewhere in America.

He saw Alan come in to the lounge.

"Hey Alan, what's up?"

"Can't sleep."

Well that's unusual. Alan is usually the first one to fall asleep. After going through a tough rescue he goes back home, freshen up, and he would drift off after.

"You all right?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

Alan noticed the files on their father's desk. It was a lesser load than last night. They only had two rescues for the day: Virgil and Gordon dealing with the cranky extraction vehicle and scientists were stuck, while he and Scott save the crew workers in a building about to blow, and he had to use the Skypod. He thought about that rescue...

"Are you sure, Alan?"

Alan sat on the edge of the desk and sighed. "About the rescue earlier, few people didn't make it. I almost got them, Scott, but I was too late. I've been watching people die in front of us ever since and I can't move on from that. I've been thinking about it a lot."

"At least you did your best, Allie," Scott held his little brother's hand. "You worked hard. Of course we have to save them all, but you know we have our limitations."

He nodded. "I just don't want to face that kind of failure again."

"Me too, Alan."

"And not only that kind of failure. I had almost ten revisions of my research paper and it's all the same. Nothing that says 'this part approved' or anything."

Alan's all stressed out. Right, college, and in the most difficult part of college life is to make a research paper publishable. It's hell week for him. That's why he's been acting quite different lately.

"My life has been tough for a while now," he sighed into his hands. "Not a lot can surprise me anymore, not even a single positive feedback."

"There will be, Alan. If you need help with your paper, you can ask me, or Virgil, or John. John and his friends had the best thesis in college, you know. Never give up hope, little brother, maybe it'll be approved one day. I'm here for you if you need me."

"Thanks, Scott."

Alan stared at the files on the desk again. Then he noticed the bottle of whisky at the left side of the desk. Scott glanced at what his little brother was looking at. Oh, shit, I should've kept that before someone sees it. Now I got caught by my youngest brother.

"Again? I thought you don't drink anymore, and here you are."

"How did- who told you about that?"

"Virgil told me."

Scott sighed. Maybe he forgot to keep the bottle again.

Alan grabbed the bottle, examining the label. It was a single malt whisky. The alcohol percentage was a bit high for his preference. He was still used to beers.

"You want one?"

"Um..."

Alan felt like he wanted one, after all the stress in college and tough rescues, and failed ones too. It's just that he has never shared an alcoholic drink with Scott. Besides, he's 21. He's now involved with conversations that he had to learn more about, since it's mostly about adult life.

"Yeah, sure," he replied.

Scott moved his files to the left side of the desk. He picked up two glasses from the cabinet located under and placed them at the center. He poured a little on each glass, and passed one to Alan. They clinked glasses and then they took the shot. Alan didn't like the drink he just had.

"Bullshit," he blurted out, and he realized that his eldest brother was looking at him after that sudden profanity. "Sorry. But it helped, thanks, Scott."

"Why don't we try with a few chips?"

"Sure."

Scott went to the kitchen and opened the cupboard.

"I'd go for plain tonight," he heard his brother.

He grabbed a small bag of plain salted multigrain chips. He headed back to the desk and passed it to him. "All yours."

"And you?"

"I'm fine without it."

He poured another to each glass and they both took another shot. Alan ate a few of the chips to ease off the bitterness of the drink. "It's a good match. Thanks."

"I used to do the same back then."

"What was your combo?"

"Salted chips with a few shots of brandy. I used to have a favorite."

"You still have it now?"

"Unfortunately, no. I had the last shot many months ago."

Alan was just like him back then. He had to deal with a lot of stress. Difference is that he drank a lot more.

They had a few talks and drank two more shots.

"Hey Scott, thanks for tonight."

"No problem."

He noticed his little brother yawn.

"And it sure helped."

"Yeah, it did," Alan got off the desk and cleaned up the mess. He headed to the quarters. "And you better get to bed too. See you in the morning."

Of course he had to be reminded. It's 2:30.

"Good night, Alan."

"Good night."

"And don't forget to brush your teeth!"