This chapter is for cathrl for her chapter 5 concrit, and sammygirl1963 for the happy thoughts.

I did a bit of research on the entire “Swapped at birth” legal part, but it's somewhat muddy waters in the USA once the person's an adult. Hence, I took the basic idea in regards to minors and made up the bits about the adults. I apologize if this lead to incorrect results in any legal aspect.

“Dad... It's just... Dad, I...” Scott couldn't bear seeing his father like this, the pain on his deep lined face, that incredible hurt in brown eyes. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that.”

A thin smile stole itself to Jeff Tracy's lips. “You had me scared there for a moment.”

Scott smiled back. Father was scared? Try some Scott-panic, he thought. His heart was racing so hard that he was afraid it might go into cardiac arrest any moment. He should've known better than to doubt his father.

“Gentlemen,” Mr. Baker discreetly reminded them of his presence. “I take it you'd rather want to discuss the legal issues later today?”

“Ah, no. I'd rather get over with the basics and send you on your way home.”

His father's urge to get rid of the man would've baffled others, but the lawyer knew from experience that visitors rarely stayed for long on Tracy Island and just nodded. “Of course. So... as I was saying, the legal situation is a bit diffuse. There are things like the child's emotional welfare to consider, but generally speaking, the biological parents have parental rights and a child would have to be returned to them, physically and in legal terms.”

Scott's heart crashed right through the floor.

“But your son's an adult, which makes things complicated. In most such cases, the individuals agree upon continuing the status quo and remain a member of the families in which they grew up. Nothing happens, as long as none of the children involved challenge their identity in court.”

Scott frowned. “What happens then?”

“If one of you challenge your identity?” Baker shifted uneasy in his seat.

“Yes. If this Walter person says 'I'm not a Carruthers'?”

“Well, the court then would look into the evidence, and he'd officially become Scott Tracy while you'd become Walter Carruthers.”

“That would mean a heckload of paperwork to get each other's history sorted out,” Scott joked, but the implications weren't lost to him. “But it would return everyone to their rightful positions.”

“Basically, yes.”

“So... Scott would be forced out of my family if my biological son pushed things?”

“The immediate result for Scott here would be that he's no longer a legal part of the Tracy family. And I'm afraid that adult adoption is not allowed.”

“That's unacceptable.”

Which meant that father would fight tooth and claw against the inevitable, and that would certainly include some fierce lawsuits, huge amounts of money, and so much bad publicity that it would take the PR department years to clean up the damage to Tracy Industries' reputation.

“Father... sir... You raised me as a Tracy, and I'm very grateful for that,” Scott scrounged up an almost cheerful tone of voice. “Please don't risk everything you've worked for just so that I keep the Tracy name tag on my birth certificate.” The moment of silent that followed was almost as hard to bear as the expression on his father's face. Please understand, father. Scott wouldn't risk his family's future and International Rescue for the sake of his personal pride. He knew his dad cared, that ought to be enough. More than enough. “You and I both know what's really important.”

Jeff Tracy's eyes narrowed, then his furrowed brows relaxed. “Yes, I guess we do.”

Scott smiled. “So, Mr. Baker... what do you suggest we do?”

“Er... well... in the light of what just emerged... perhaps you may want to reconsider your plan to contact the Carruthers?”

“I can't do that. They deserve to know the truth,” father said.

There it was again, that warm and bubbling sensation, mixed with pride and respect. Scott smiled. Some people regarded his father as a dinosaur, always keeping things on the straight and narrow when the world around him was out to make him extinct. Perhaps this was the meteorite that would bring the end for Jeff Tracy, stuck in a moral no-win scenario.

“Sometimes, ignorance is the better part of the bargain,” Mr. Baker said, business-like as always. “But since you want to go ahead with this, do you wish for me to contact the hospital and have them arrange a meeting?”

“I...” Father began, then shook his head. “No, wait... This isn't my call to make. Scott... Can I... Do you want me to go through with this? Do...” His voice trailed off, as if just forming the question was too much to bear. When he continued, his voice was hoarse, “Do you want to meet your real parents?”

Scott swallowed hard. Not that the very idea of being given an option bothered him. Jeff Tracy had encouraged each of his sons to make their own decisions as long as Scott could remember. He had also taught them that with choices came responsibilities and consequences. This time... not that Scott was afraid of the consequences, but he had expected for his father to make this call. After all, it involved his son - the real son.

Instead, the meteorite of decision homed in to wipe out the Scottosaurus. He wanted to scream, lock himself in Thunderbird 1 and fly as far away as the engines would take him.

Did he want to go through with this? No. Freaking no. No way. Only an idiot would want to cement the foundation for getting himself kicked out of the family he loved, the only family he'd ever care about.

No.

He didn't want to meet some strangers who happened to share genes with him. And no, he didn't want for father to meet Walter Carruthers. Because, face it, only an idiot would not want to become part of the Tracy family, when on face value it meant a carefree and luxurious life.

Why did father have to give him a choice? Why did he have to be the one bearing the responsibility? What kind of choice was this when he knew exactly just how much father wanted to meet his birth son? Who was he to deny Jeff Tracy this one wish?

His logic mind told him that he was getting irrational. It told him that his father loved him and nothing would ever change that. His experience told him that family didn't end because a name changed. But why then was it so darned hard to stop the fear, silence the nagging little voice that told him that he made a whining fool out of himself? Discipline, he reminded himself. You worry too much. Focus on what needs to be done. Be like this on a mission and everyone ends up dead.

“Yes, father. I'd like to meet them.”

*

“My, you boys are really hungry tonight!” Grandma said with a look at the empty bowls and plates that marked dinner at Tracy Island. “Maybe I'm going to pack you lunch boxes for your next rescue?”

Virgil laughed. “Now, Grandma, that's a mighty fine idea!”

“Yeah,” Alan grinned. “But you better pack some extra boxes just for Scott, or we'll all stay hungry.”

“Hey!”

“You, big brother, are clearly an egoist,” Gordon pouted, pointing at some lonely crumbs of pie on Scott's plate. “You know that strawberry's my favourite, and what do you do? Munch three servings!”

“I'm still a growing boy.”

“The only thing you're growing is fat,” Virgil stated, but they all could see the laughter in his eyes.

“Tut, tut.” Scott leaned back in his chair and patted his full stomach. Food, sweet stuff in particular, never failed to calm him. Though, right now he felt more like dropping his head on the table and doze off. “I'll leave the broccoli for you guys any time.”

Alan laughed. “Hear, hear! You should eat more broccoli instead of inhaling empty calories."

"Says the guy who ferries a secret stash of gummi bears to Thunderbird Five every time it's his turn," Scott said.

"Er." Alan blushed. "That's just emergency rations!"

"Uh-huh."

"What's a few handful of gummi bears compared to box loads of cakes and cookies?" Gordon scoffed. "One of these days, Scott, you'll go bang from overeating, and then we can finally have our meals without having to fear a famine.”

“Gordon!" Jeff Tracy snapped, and the banter dropped dead on spot. "That's a very ugly thing to say, son.” Their father's face was set in stone, every bit as serious as his words. “Apologize to your brother at once.”

“Ah... Gosh, dad, we were just joking around-” Gordon began with a helpless smile, but one look of his father was enough to sober the second youngest Tracy. “I'm sorry, Scott, I didn't mean it.”

Scott wished he could sink into the floor as he felt the eyes of everyone on him. “'s okay, Gordon. No harm done.”

There was an uneasy second or two, then Grandma broke the spell. “Anybody want some coffee?”

“Sure, Grandma!”

The chatter picked up again, but Scott didn't miss the worried look that Virgil shot him. Wonderful. It would be just a matter of time until his brothers would smell the boo-boo and start investigating.

Later, in his room, Scott sank down on his bed. Outside, the distant crashing of waves on the beach heralded of a storm far away. In a day or two, it might even reach them, probably trashing the island's inventory just as badly as the DNA test had trashed up his life.

Everything was at risk because of him. Father... the man who raised Scott, was a good father and felt the need to protect his sons, related or not. How could he blame him for that? Jeff Tracy wouldn't be the man he admired so much were things any different. Unfortunately, that meant that none of the reasonable solutions would work out. Persuading Jeff Tracy to change his mind once he had made his decision was like trying to eject out of Thunderbird 3 during liftoff – afterwards, you could pick yourself up in small pieces from all over the planet.

The sour aftertaste of coffee in his mouth did nothing to help, either. Scott swallowed hard. Wait and see what happens, he reasoned. Maybe they were nice people. Nothing was lost yet. You can do this, he told himself, taking in the evening air in long, deep breaths.

“Scott?” A sharp knock at the door accompanied the verbal interruption.

Scott suppressed a groan. “What's up, Virgil?”

“We need to talk.”

“Come back tomorrow. I'm tired.” It wasn't even a lie.

“I won't take long.”

Scott sighed. “Come in.”

The door opened and his younger sibling entered. “Thanks.”

Virgil pulled away the chair from Scott's desk, placed it so that the back faced forward and straddled the seat. More than anything, this told Scott that his brother was bothered by something. “So, what's eating you, little brother?”

“I should be the one asking that question,” Virgil said. "It's not like you to be so preoccupied during a mission.”

“I just need to recharge my batteries, that's all. Nothing that lots of sleep can't cure.”

“Yeah, and I'm Tinkerbell.”

Virgil. In a tiny fairy in a green dress, dusting everyone off with starstuff. Well... Two had the right colour, and they could always dye Virgil's hair blond. Scott grinned. “Tinkervirge.”

Gosh, he needed sleep. Badly.

Virgil seemed to think the same, because he heaved an Everest-size sigh. “Okay, okay. Then at least tell me why that PI and lawyer Baker showed up all of a sudden? What's going on?”

“Nothing of importance,” Scott insisted, stifling a yawn. “Just business stuff.”

His middle brother balled his fists. “Tracy Industries concern me, too, remember?”

“Then go and ask dad.”

“But I'm asking you.”

“Virgil... I can't...” Scott closed his eyes. This wouldn't do. His brother deserved better than a bunch of lies. “I don't know how to tell you...” Darn it. How could he put this into words, in a way that wouldn't make him sound like a case for the shrink?

“Tell me what?” Virgil coaxed, but Scott could tell that the man's patience was running thin.

It took all his will power to open his eyes and force a mangled smile. “You see... I'm not Scott Tracy.”

“Say, what?” His brother stared at him as if he had just grown horns and a bushy tail.

“Well, I am Scott Tracy, at least kind of... but not really...”

Judging by Virgil's expression, Scott had to add the funny glasses and the clown's nose to the outfit. But then the worry won out. “You don't make sense, big brother.”

“It's kind of complicated.”

Virgil smiled. “Try me.”

So Scott spoke and Virgil listened. “...and that's why father needed Mr. Baker.”

The seconds ticked away while Virgil mulled over the information. “What a mess... So, what are we going to do about it?”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“You forget our motto,” Virgil said. “And I don't know about you, but as far as I'm concerned, no bus driver from Vernon snatches my big brother from me.”

He felt like ice-cream in the microwave at 1500 Watts. “Virge...”

"Gosh, if you turn mush on me, I swear I'm going to puke on your bed." Virgil's disgust was clearly faked, but the warm smile that didn't stop at his eyes was real. He got up and put the chair back to its place. "You go and get some sleep," he said before he headed for the door, "Leave this rescue to me, Scott."

When the door had closed and his brother's footsteps were no longer audible, and the warm and fuzzy feeling had invaded even the tips of Scott's toes, he buried his head in his hands and groaned. "Virge, you idiot."

Then, he smiled through the treacherous moisture that blurred his vision and whispered, "Love you, too, little brother."

To be continued...

Oh dear. Virgil's on the war path! I just hope he knows what he's doing...