strongerwiththepack
This is International Rescue
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For Gordon’s birthday, I decided to put together a rec list of a bunch of Gordon fics I love! There are so many more I could rec, so these are just a few of the amazing fics out there. Feel free to add your faves too, whether that be your own ones you’ve written or fics by others you love! I’m sure Gordon would approve of sharing the love 💛
List below the cut because it got loooong
Keep reading
#thunderbirds are go#gordon tracy#oooo#can't wait to make my way through this list!#thanks for including me 🥺#mrmustachious
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Shark Week
*waves at everyone I normally chat to lots!* I know I’m behind on reading fics, but I am getting eaten by work because such is life. Bring on July!!
This is my response to the “Sensory Sunday: See” challenge created by the lovely @gumnut-logic, written in snatches of time and it’s still so short xD Oh well, I think we’re all feeling that way rn!! Sending a virtual hug to everyone who could use one rn!! and oh yeah… fic XD
Gordon joins Scott and John watching a programme during Shark Week!
———————————————————————————————–
“Whatcha watching?” Gordon asked, hanging off the couch. Scott swiped behind him as he was kicked through the thin material by dangling legs.
“Shark Week special. You’ll have to be careful next time you go swimming.”
“Mommy says sharks don’t live in the lake, they live in the ocean.”
“There are lake sharks too.”
“No, there’s not.” Gordon kicked out again and Scott yelped.
“John, back me up here.”
“No.”
“Told you.” Gordon stuck his tongue out at Scott in triumph.
“Whatever squirt. You gonna watch with us?”
“Yeah!”
He scrambled over the couch and fell into the space between them.
“Ow,” muttered John, rubbing at his shoulder where Gordon’s shoes had crashed against him.
“Sorry!” Gordon didn’t sound sorry in the slightest, merely grinning up at his brother.
John waved him off and resumed the show.
Gordon peppered the two brothers with questions as only a six year old could. How do sharks breathe underwater? Why do they have so many teeth? Do they ever get into fights?
“Danny got into a fight at school,” Gordon told them solemnly. “His eye was all yucky.”
“That doesn’t sound too good,” said Scott. He looked over at John mouthing ‘who’s Danny?’.
John shrugged.
“You’re not good friends with Danny are you?”
“No, he’s mean someti– woah, look at that!”
“What?!” Scott turned rapidly back towards the screen. He could only see the wide shot of the ocean tracking a dark shadow beneath the surface of the water.
“John, rewind!”
“No! Can’t you see it?”
“See what Gords?” John’s hand held steady over the holo-command.
“Look at all that water!”
Scott and John exchanged a look.
“Yeah squirt, that’s the ocean.”
Gordon scoffed.
“No way the ocean has that much water. Mommy says it’s like a lake with salty water but bigger.” He pulled a face “She let me taste salty water, it was gross.”
“You wouldn’t say that’s bigger?”
“Yeah, but…” Gordon grew silent, staring again at the scrolling image with wide eyes. “Where’s the other side?”
“The… other side?”
“You know, the other side of the ocean.”
“You can’t see it, it’s too far away.”
“You’re lying.”
“Honest to God, I’m not.” Scott laid his hand over his heart, grinning at the six year old glaring at him. “The ocean is so big, you can’t see the land on the other side.”
Gordon turned suspicious eyes towards John who nodded .
“He’s right. The ocean is really, really big. The land is below the horizon.”
“Geez John, he doesn’t know what the ocean is, you think he knows what horizon means?”
“I do too know what the ocean is.” Gordon kicked out at Scott, his foot connecting with his knee.
Scott yelped.
“They’re teaching you too much in those swimming classes,” he said, rubbing at his leg.
“I want to go to the ocean!”
“Maybe someday you will,” said John with a half-smile. “Me and Scott have. It was pretty cool.”
“I’m gonna swim all around the world! I’ll live in the ocean and you’ll have to come visit me underwater.”
“You’ll have to learn how to grow gills then.”
“Yeah,” said Gordon, hands on his neck and eye shining. “I can do that.”
Scott laughed and ruffled Gordon’s hair.
“You really are our little fish, aren’t you?”
John grinned next to him.
“We’ll make sure we live on an island so we can visit. Don’t you worry.”
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From @womble1
From and by @womble1 for @tracybirds
Trash Christmas
Prompts used:
John + Hidden talent
Scott and Gordon being in charge of Christmas dinner
…
“What the hell are you doing?” Gordon stared across in disbelief at Scott
“What does it look like I’m doing?” Scott asked, still stirring what he hoped would become gravy, if only he willed it hard enough.
“If I knew that, then I wouldn’t be asking, would I?! John and Virgil made this look so easy at Thanksgiving” Gordon mumbled that last bit, but the point still hit.
“Well Thanksgiving isn’t Christmas. Whole different ball game.” Scott said, gesticulating with the wooden spoon, something splattered on the floor, but he tried not to look, he was sure gravy wasn’t meant to gloop like that, maybe if he just kept mixing.
“How do you figure that? It’s practically the same! Meat, veg, far too many sides.”
“Don’t let Virgil hear you say that, you know how fanatical he gets about the sides.” Scott warned, looking across to the stairs, as if Virgil could be literally summoned by the topic alone.
“Then let him come and make them!” Gordon threw his arms up in despair.
“That’s not how it works Gordon, it’s luck of the draw, they got Thanksgiving, we get Christmas” Scott calmly reasoned.
“When has any draw ever been random when John’s involved?”
Keep reading
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Oh no! :D
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Really enjoying this one! 💙💛
Chapter 8
He hated waiting. More than anything, Scott hated having to wait when his family needed him, but there was no rushing the goons they'd expected would be in to remove the "bodies". As it was, he was laying as still as possible along the medical bed as though his oxygen had run out and he'd simply gone to sleep. He knew he should be focused on the dull sounds coming through Four's hull, but his thoughts kept wandering with the pulse of his aching head. Gordon was out there, alone to fight who knew how many enemies. It should've been him, the older brother risking his life to get them both home. Instead, he was trapped within a dead sub, running out of air while he depended on an unknown group to come to him.
The sound of a hatch being forced open was his first sign that his wait was over, and acted as a beacon to his mind. Fingers tightened around the tool Gordon had given him, centering himself around its weight. Scott knew how much damage it could do and he hoped it would be enough to take down the poor souls dumb enough to attack his family.
[Read on Ao3]
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Thunderbirds Inktober #1 - Cave in
Virg to the rescue 💪💚
This is for @skymaiden32 ’s inktober promptlist which I’m doing weekly instead of daily 💫
Tap image for better quality
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For Whumptober, how about #4 Dead on Your Feet, hidden injury, and someone different for me, Alan?
Dead On His Feet
@whumptober day 4: Dead on Your Feet/Hidden Injury.
It had been a successful rescue, sure, but it had had its fair share of near-misses and Alan was sure glad it was over.
He picked his way wearily back to Two, stumbling a little on the debris-littered ground after depositing his last rescuee at the treatment centre.
It was the longest rescue he had done to date – if you excluded space rescues – and he was so tired. He ached all over and quite honestly all Alan wanted was a hot shower and his bed.
He was just so dead on his feet.
Unsure of where his other brothers were, Alan kept his eyes on Two as he traversed the site, knowing that they would materialise along the way. John had given the all-clear followed by Scott’s agreement, so at some point soon he should see them…
The sudden hand on his shoulder made Alan jump.
‘Woah, Al! Take it easy, it’s only me!’
Gordon’s face materialised in front of him and Alan groaned. He was too tired to cope with his most exuberant brother right now. Gordon seemed to take the hint, for he frowned and stopped talking, falling in beside his brother as they made their way over.
Blinking, Alan realised that their older brothers were waiting in front of Two, he just hadn’t noticed them. He glanced over to Gordon, blinking slowly as he tried to make out what his immediately older brother was doing.
He was being a fish! Opening and closing his mouth with no sound coming out. Ahahaha, what a ridiculous – and very Gordon – thing to do. He giggled. His brother was funny.
Oh. At some point Alan had stopped walking and just stood there, swaying slightly and quietly giggling to himself. He hadn’t even noticed that Gordon had been replaced by Scott, and that his eldest brother was crouching down in front of him.
‘Gotta make a good impression, Alan, if you want Scott to keep you on rescues. S’portant.’
‘Alan?’
Alan’s words stung him, but Scott could tell his baby brother didn’t even know he’d said them out loud. All kinds of alarms were ringing. This was Alan’s first rescue that had stretched longer than half a day, and Scott had been firm on the need for regular breaks for them all, but especially Alan.
The kid was pale, though. Pale and swaying, and he looked exhausted. Scott’s measures had obviously not been enough unless…his heart pounding, Scott hit his comm.
‘John? Can you scan Alan please? Something isn’t right.’
‘Sure.’
‘Patch Virg…’
He didn’t even get to finish Virgil’s name as John shouted in his ear.
‘MEDBAY. NOW. Virgil – incoming Alan. He’s losing blood.’
Scott had grabbed Alan up in a bridal hold and was sprinting over the last bit of distance before John finished speaking, heart pounding and thanking Gordon in his head for alerting them that Alan wasn’t quite right.
By the time he had Alan laid down the boy was unconscious. Virgil was ready with an infusion of Ringers and Gordon was ready with the shears, cutting Alan’s uniform away so that a canula could be fitted and the rest easily removed. Scott set off the Medscanner, and its yellow glow soon flagged up the issue. Not that Scott needed it, the smear of blood on his arm telling him already where the problem was.
Somehow Alan had managed to slice the back of his right thigh open and had not even noticed his boot was full of blood. He must have been far more exhausted than they had realised.
Once the infusion was set up Gordon left to fly Two home, and Scott held Alan while Virgil cleaned and stitched the wound. It was deep but not too worrisome and was definitely an injury they could handle at home.
Eventually Virgil finished bandaging Alan’s leg and left to take over flying, giving Scott’s shoulder a squeeze as he passed. Scott offered him a small smile, and Virgil stifled a sigh. His brother was already blaming himself for Alan’s injury, he could tell, so he sent Gordon down to keep them company while he filled John and Grandma in on what had happened.
Alan yawned and tried to turn over. Only, his hand was anchored to the bed by someone else’s. blinking rapidly to get his vision working, he could see Scott, head on the bed and hand tightly holding his. His brother looked like he was in a terribly uncomfortable position, but for the life of him Alan couldn’t work out what had happened to merit Scott’s pretzel imitation.
He glanced around the room to see the rest of this brothers dotted around the bed, all asleep. When he glanced up it was to see Grandma and Kayo standing beside him. He offered them a smile and they reciprocated. He whispered, not wanting to wake the others up.
‘Wh-what happened?’
‘You had an injury you didn’t know about and passed out.’
‘Oh. I remember feeling really tired.’
‘You worked hard, Alan. That plus the blood loss.’
‘Oh.’
‘You’ll be fine. Virgil stitched you up nicely.’
‘Will I get a scar like Scotty’s?’
The resultant eyerolls and barely repressed sniggering told Alan that he obviously was alright, just as the joking told their Grandma the same. She bent forward and kissed his forehead.
‘Sleep, sweetie. Rest and you’ll be back in business in no time.’
‘K, Gran’ma.’
And Alan was asleep again.
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Thundertober Day 1 😁😁 I love these prompts and I'm excited to spend some time with as many as I can!! Thank you @skymaiden32 for the prompts! Currently only have access to my phone bc overseas so please excuse any typos you spot 😅
Day 1 - Cave In
Alan hits a limit mid-rescue
Notes: significant emotional whump, hurt/comfort, generally the small one is having a bad bad time 🥺 (sorry Alan)
I promise it works out 💕
---
"Please, sir, stay calm," said Alan firmly. "Grab my shoulder, we'll move nice and slow. Ms Beaker, make a chain with Mr Welsh and follow on."
"Stephen, I'm scared," she said, gripping her husband's arm tightly.
"I understand you're frightened," said Alan, taking a deep breath.
His mind whirled with months of overlapping advice and he paused for a moment, tying to find the right response.
"The passage is clear but we have to move single file. I can give you a glowstick to help make sure you don't trip?"
She nodded slowly, and quickly cracked the proffered stick.
"Sarah, you go ahead of me," said Mr Welsh, a waver of uncertainty clear in his voice.
She sniffled, wiping away a tear in the dim light.
"We're not normally like this," she said unhappily.
"You've not normally been trapped underground for several days either," Alan pointed out. "All things considered, you're doing amazing. And we're nearly there, the hard part is almost over."
She nodded, drawing herself upright.
"You're right, we can do this. Let's get out of this awful maze "
They formed a line and Alan swung his flashlight ahead of him. A line of luminescent dots showed him the way out, a series of modern breadcrumbs scattered by the drone that had charted the pathway tto the couple. All they needed to do was follow them home.
"This way," he said, and the group began to pick their way across the rugged terrrain.
The path wasn't easy and more than once they needed to squeeze through narrow passages or clamber through low-ceilinged spaces on all fours. Alan's breath quickened at each obstacle, but his two charges made it through them all with little complaint.
"How much further?" called Mr Welsh, his voice sounding pained.
Alan checked his monitor, cursing his failure to check in on the injured man and his heart sinking at the distance.
"Quite a way," he admitted slowly. "We should take a break."
"No, no," he said. "That's not necessary, I can keep going."
"This is my call, sir, you're in pain."
"I'm fine," began the protest, but Ms Beaker soon quitened him.
"Stephen, he's right. If we don't take care of that arm, it'll require much more painful treatment when we finally get out."
"And this is as good a spot as any," said Alan, giving them an encouraging smile that neither could see. "It's wide and open, and we can set up the artificial flame cubes."
By the dimly flickering light, he could see the toll the crisis was taking on the two. He had to admit to weariness himself. Making their way out of the cave system was proving to be a grueling process, and he missed being able to rely on his brothers' guidance. Still, that was what today was about. In situations like this, even International Rescue's specialised low attentuation radio waves couldn't penetrate this deep underground, and he had to get used to making decisions without them.
He hoped he was doing them proud.
"I can give you ibuprofen for the pain," he said softly. "And the splint seems to have kept the bone in the right place. Try not to lean on it too much when we're crawling; use your elbow instead."
"Thank you," said Mr Welsh tiredly, resting his head back against the rockface. He accepted the rations pack along with the pills, not saying a word.
Alan leant back, still thinking of how his brothers would respond to the dismal scenario. Gordon had an air of confident cheeriness that seemed to make dark moods vanish with barely a word. Virgil excelled at comforting those with fading hopes, making space for their fears and gently helping them find their stength for the next task at hand. John was so matter-of-fact that it never occurred to the people around him to worry even for a second. And Scott was kind and sure, never doubting his success, never losing his way.
Alan wished he could be even half as good as they were. Instead, he breathed deeply, holding onto the slow meditations Kayo had taught him and squashing down the uncertainty and fear that he was mucking everything up.
His brothers trusted him, he reminded himself. Being here, in this moment, was evidence of that very fact.
"Time to keep moving," he said, forcing Gordon's cheer into his voice. "I know it seems like a lot, but we're over halfway. We'll be hearing my brothers soon, and then we'll be able to call the Mole down."
"The 'Mole'?" asked Mr Welsh curiously as he stumbled to his feet.
Alan opened his mouth to respond, but froze as a deep rumble rippled through the earth.
"Get down," he said harshly. "Hands on heads, don't worry about the break."
Startled, they minicked his motions as a tremor swelled and shook the cave, a sharp jolt that threw them all forward accompanied by an unpleasant rolling as the floor dropped and rose to meet them.
Alan glanced upwards as he recovered himself, and there in the red glow of the artificial flame cube he spied the first fracture in the rock above.
"Oh, sh..."
His sentence is swallowed by the resulting cave in.
He can hear himself yelling, his heart rate spiking as he calls for his brothers and hears nothing. He's not trained for the way the darkness presses down on his limbs, nor the way his nerve fails as phantom pain flares with the adrenaline.
Gasping, he remembers his charges, and he calls to them, screams for them when they don't respond. He crawls to them, shaking helplessly at their unconscious bodies and clawing at the blocked passage when neither responds.
He has to get out. He has to get them out. And he can't.
He curls into a ball between Mr Welsh and Ms Beaker and tries to remember how to breathe.
He can't do this, and the thought that he's failed wells up inside of him, choking its way out of his throat as he lets loose a sob. Failure means death and he can't process that, it's never happened when he was so alone.
He calls out for his brothers who should be able to hear him, who do nothing to help him and he realises he might already be dead.
There's no rationality left.
The air is definitely thinning fast and he gasps for oxygen, fighting the black spots in his vision. He can almost hear Virgil yelling in the background to turn it off.
He laughs hysterically. He can't turn off his fear, he's not Scott. He's not clear-headed John, doesn't have Gordon's will to live, and will never be strong like Virgil himself.
The rock shimmers around him and vanishes, leaving him splayed out on the floor and struggling to catch his breath.
"Alan," called his brother and he can feel warm arms holding him close as he curls in on himself even more tightly, grasping at life, and sobs.
It's a long time before he remembers who he is.
Scott looked pale, his arms cradling him in a way Alan vaguely recalls from when he was small.
"You okay?" asked Gordon, crouched next to him. His hand hovered over Alan's shoulder like he was too scared to touch him.
Alan breathes. It's all he can do.
"John's coming down," said Virgil, brushing a hand across his forehead and sweeping back his blond hair.
"He doesn't need to," said Alan, his voice as frail as he feels.
"He wants to," said Virgil firmly. "That was a nasty shock you had."
Tears welled in his eyes again and Alan buried his face into Scott's chest, unable to look at his brothers any longer.
"I'm sorry," he cried. "I failed them, and I failed you. I tried so hard to think of how you guys would do it and I couldn't and I can't and..."
"Shhh," admonished Scott, his grip tight around him. "You haven't failed. You've found a limit, that's all. To be honest, I'm surprised we haven't hit one before now."
"A limit?"
"We test the limits so that we don't discover them mid-rescue."
"We're not superhuman, Alan," said Virgil. "We all have fears, we all have weaknesses."
Alan scoffed.
"You've never fallen apart like that."
"And how would you know, squirt," asked Gordon with a faint grin. "John's not about to put us on any rescue that we can't handle."
"The training is to get better, to be better, yes," said Scott softly. "But it's also to ensure we know how to keep each other safe."
"Surely you've noticed that you've only done cave rescues in training or within communication range," said Virgil. "This is the first time you've had to deal with this extreme."
"And it'll be the last," said John, striding into the room.m and falling to his knees to give Alan a hug. "At least until you're ready to train the scenario again."
Alan didn't say anything, squirming out of his grip.
"I just feel so stupid," he said into his knees. "I knew it was just a training sequence. I knew that."
"It doesn't have to make sense, Allie," said Gordon. "Sometimes it does, sometimes it doesn't. I can't do anything too high speed, my brain just freezes."
"Fires," offers Scott. "Not anymore, and I'm still the last option only, but for a long time until I learned to trust Brains' safety margins on the protective gear."
"Which you did by creating an inferno of your own, and then panicking." grumbled Virgil. "Idiot."
"Hey, I only panicked until I realised nothing was burning me."
"Unfortunately, it was burning everything else."
"Avalanches," said John quietly, interrupting them. "Virgil and me both. I transfer the call and Grandma does the monitoring from the island."
A hush fell over the brothers.
"Point is," said Scott gruffly, "we'll look after you. So you're not cleared on cave rescues, big deal. You're as competent as the rest of us. Fear isn't weakness."
"Definitely not," said Virgil as John and Gordon murmured their agreement.
Alan looked up at each of them, his ownpersonal heros, still as strong and corageous and kind even now he knew they weren't as fearless as he'd imagined.
He flung his arms around them, pulling them in close.
"Thank you," he whispered. "Thank you."
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I Don't Like the Duck Song
For the Thundertober prompt Story, something that has been bouncing around with the plot bunnies in my mind for a while.
Wee Tracys.
Pure fluff and probably a bit silly, but here goes.
***
Lucille felt herself mirroring the beaming smile of her three-year-old as they sat on the living room carpet singing a well-loved counting song. Her little Gordy loved making the quacking sounds of the mother duck in every verse as they sang.
Halfway through the countdown of little ducks she noticed her eight-year old watching them from the doorway, his forehead crinkling in a frown that spoke of concern or concentration. When Virgil caught her looking at him his expression relaxed, but he shook his head when she beckoned him over, and then he turned and walked away. This puzzled her. It was unusual for Virgil to refuse any singalong with her, especially if it involved little brothers. And she was well aware he knew this song. She’d sung it with all her boys. Virgil had even helped teach it to John.
Her attention returned to finishing the song with her littlest, then singing it again at his request, and she all but forgot about the strange reaction of her musically inclined child.
Until he started asking somewhat strange questions.
“You would look for us, wouldn’t you Mom?” he asked her out of the blue as he helped with the washing up after lunch.
“What do you mean, V-bug?”
“If me or Scotty, or Johnny or Gordon got lost you would look for us, right?”
“Of course I would.”
His dark little head nodded a few times, as if to reconfirm the affirmation she’d given, then turned his head to focus wide brown eyes, full of so much calculating concern, on her.
“Coz if we were lost you’d be really sad, and worried until you found us, right?”
“Yes, I would.” She knelt down so she was on his level, watching his ever so expressive face for more information. But before she could ask what this was all about he wrapped his arms around her neck and gave her a tight hug.
“I promise to never let any of my brothers get lost or left behind,” he whispered into her hair. “Ever.”
Not knowing quite how to respond, she let Virgil end the hug, smile at her and run off in the direction of his bedroom. She shook her head, a little bewildered, and finished the last few plates and cups. She didn’t connect the dots until a few hours later.
She walked into Gordon’s bedroom to find Virgil teaching him the counting song about speckled frogs jumping into a pool. The giggles of glee from her blond-haired boy as he exclaimed “Yum, yum!” every time the little frogs ate their most delicious bugs filled her heart with such warmth. She grinned, and joined in the song.
After reading Gordon his bedtime story and tucking him in with a goodnight kiss, a quick check on Scott who was in his room reading, and making sure John was taking his bath, Lucille was finally able to have another talk with Virgil.
“So, frogs are better for counting than ducks?” she asked as she took a seat on Virgil’s bed.
He pushed his chair back from his desk so he was turned more towards her, looking a little bashful.
“I don’t like the duck song.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Oh? You used to like singing it when you were Gordon’s age, and when we sang it with Johnny when he was learning to count.”
“I know,” he sighed. “But now I keep thinking about that family of ducks and how the ducklings keep going missing one by one, and how sad the mother duck would be and . . .” he trailed off with another soft sigh and a shrug.
“They all come home in the end, V-bug.”
“Yes, but it’s just . . .” Lucille watched thoughts and emotions play out across Virgil’s face and shoulders as he struggled to find the words. Then he picked up a few sheets of paper, came and sat beside her on the bed and thrust the pages at her. “Here.”
“What’s this?” she asked him, putting an arm around him to let him snuggle into her side before looking down at the little booklet she’d been given.
He remained silent for a moment while her gaze took in the artwork on the top page. The most adorable little family of ducks Lucille had ever seen had been rendered mid-march across a field of green grass and coloured wildflowers, with a background of rolling hills and blue sky.
“I wrote them a story,” her little artist explained. “Because I couldn’t stop thinking that if me and my brothers went for a walk and one of us didn’t come back, something must be very wrong and everyone would be so worried.”
Lucille looked down at Virgil, somewhat proud of his kind-heartedness, then back to the paper in her hands. When she turned the page she was not surprised to find more pictures than words. Virgil pointed out details that helped tell the full story as she continued to flick through the book. He’d thought about this a great deal. There was a reason given for each little duck’s inability to come home to mother.
“See, when they get home the first time and one of them isn’t there it’s because one of the little ducks wandered off to play in a pond he sees on the way home – like Gordon does sometimes when he sees a big puddle when we’re out walking. The rest of them thought he was right behind them, but they get home and he’s not there and they all panic and want to go back and find him, but it’s getting too dark. That’s why the Mom called them home with her loud quacks.”
Page by page he described to her how the distraught duck family proceed. First the mother duck calling for her missing baby to come home until it gets so late they all need to get some sleep. Then the following morning the remaining ducklings sneak out to find their missing sibling, leaving their Mom a note to say they won’t leave their brother out there alone and lost, but they promise to listen for her call to come home.
The second duckling doesn’t return when she calls because he wants to keep searching, but sends the other three home to make sure their mother knows he’s okay – just like Scott would do. Lucille smiled to herself at that thought.
On the third day the three remaining ducklings agree on a meeting point at a big oak tree, then split up to look for their brothers. One of them finds the first lost duckling (the Gordon duck), but that little duck sprained his foot and can’t walk, so they don’t make it back to the meeting point in time and only two ducks make it home when their mother calls that night.
The two ducks that go out on the fourth day don’t want to split up, so they leave a note at the oak tree. While they go out searching, the Scotty duckling finds the oak tree and waits for the others. The rest of the four ducklings find each other, but it’s getting late again, so they send one little duck home to mother, while the other two help the injured duckling to the meeting tree, hoping they can all go home from there tomorrow. They are really happy to find the Scotty duck waiting for them when they get there, just as the sun sets.
Lucille could see a great deal of artistic care had been taken with the rendering of the sunset in the illustration that accompanied the reunion of the four ducklings.
“I cheated a bit with the fifth day,” Virgil apologised. “The last little duckling goes back to the meeting tree and finds all his brothers waiting for him so they can all go home to their mother together. So the mother duck doesn’t have to be alone worrying about all her babies even for one night.”
Flipping over the last page to find THE END written in large block letters, she gave her little boy a squeeze and a kiss to the top of his head.
“It’s a lovely story, beautifully illustrated and very well told.”
“You like it?” Earnest eyes of liquid caramel stared up at her.
“I love it,” she told him, placing an additional kiss on his forehead. “Now, bedtime!”
As he climbed under the covers and started to settle comfortably, he took her hand.
“If it was real life, with people and not ducks, I know lots of other people would be out looking for the lost boy on the very first night, and the Mom wouldn’t let the other kids go out looking, but it’s okay for a duck story, right?”
She smiled, gave his hand a reassuring squeeze and fussed with his covers for a bit. For a moment she was a little overwhelmed at how much thought her creative and empathetic little boy had put into a scenario brought to mind by a simple pre-school counting song. Reaching down to brush his dark locks out if his eyes with gentle fingers, she gave a sincere nod.
“Perfect for ducks,” she agreed.
His beaming smile turned her heart to jelly as she wished him goodnight.
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Virgil! Respond!
I did art. Quality is questionable, but art!
Many thanks to @godsliltippy and @gaviiadastra for egging me on early this morning :D And thank you to @skymaiden32 for setting the prompts :D
It is in responce to Thundertober Prompt #1 Cave in.
C’mon…how could I resist?
Nutty
(yeah, I’m mean to da boi)
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Squid Watching
With thanks to @mariashades for the prompt.
For @godsliltippy, @misssquidtracy, @psychoseal and all the Pen&Inkers!
Squid. Squiddy. Squidboy. Even Squidito.
There were many squid names that Gordon was called by his brothers, and for very good reasons.
Awake, he could (and did) squeeze himself into impossible places and improbable positions, an absolute boon for International Rescue and excellent for giving older brothers grey hairs when playing hide-and-seek. It was only yesterday Scott had resorted to cheating and asking John to locate him via his watch.
(Ok, in the interests of fair disclosure, and because Gordon doesn’t want you all to think his oldest brother is a cheater and a jerk, they weren’t actually *playing*, Scott wanted Gordon to do a particular task in the kitchen and Gordon really, really didn’t want to…)
Also, Gordon’s squid hugs were almost as legendary as Virgil’s. Not because they were bear hugs, but because they were squid hugs. Once Gordon hugged you couldn’t dislodge him until he felt you relax.
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That’s Business - Chapter 5
I blinked and suddenly summer was over and I hadn’t posted in 3 months. Oops. Well, here’s the conclusion to this one. Thanks for all the support and lovely comments. I’ve been challenging myself to write longer pieces and this is now my longest completed fic, capping in at around 15,000. Not a lot I know but it’s a good step in the right direction for me. On to the next one!
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5
FF.net | AO3
“Wowww, awesome flying bro.” Alan exclaimed to Gordon as he gawked at the hospital tv.
The news had been reporting on the Tracy Industries incident all day. Alan had just arrived at the hospital after being flown in from his boarding school. Virgil had had the insight to call ahead before Alan had to find out online.
Scott had to admit he’d reacted very similarly to his littlest brother when he’d first seen the footage. One of the broadcasting companies had apparently had drones in the sky as well. It was quite common nowadays; the amount of reporter drones they had to deal with at rescues was astounding. A way to see the action up close without putting the camera operators in danger.
There was the shot of John falling and Scott’s heart was still in his throat as he watched it for a second time. His brother in freefall. On the screen, John flails for a second before rightening himself in the air onto his front with his arms extended. Perfect free-jumping form. Except without the parachute.
There was nothing he could do. Even though Scott knew his brother was standing next to him very much in one piece.
Then there was a large drone hovering next to him, matching his speed. An IR drone.
Everything was going too fast, his brother was nearing the sidewalk but John caught the hint and made a grab at the bottom of the drone.
Scott cringed. They weren’t made for people.
John’s arms hooked around the bulky body of the drone as he tried to find some purchase while avoiding touching the rotors at the top. He was still falling fast. Once he stopped fumbling and held fast the drone whirred and picked up speed. The speed of decent slowed minutely, ever so slowly. But it was somewhat working.
The broadcaster camera drone followed the scene with precision. Scott knew it couldn’t have been a live feed. They wouldn’t have risked the gruesome scene that could have occurred.
In reality, John hit the ground hard, but not nearly hard enough to kill him. He went down legs first and crumpled. The drone smashed down next to him.
Scott still winced at the rough impact. It was surprising John had only fractured his leg.
“A camera drone?” Scott had said incredulously, almost laughing at the absurdity.
His brother had survived a 30 floor drop by hooking onto the underside of a drone made for no weight and light winds. Of course, the drone was IR and Brains did over-engineer everything to a ridiculous standard but this was impressive even for him.
Gordon had been flying the drone.
“C’mere” Scott pulled his sheepish-looking second youngest brother into his side.
Gordon struggled half-heartedly as Scott ruffled his hair.
“Scotttttt.” He whined.
Scott chuckled and gave his brother a tight squeeze before releasing him.
Virgil had told him the chilling first person account later that night when the younger boys had retired to a hotel and John was snoozing quietly on the bed next to them.
Virgil admitted to him that he’d frozen when John fell. First seeing the close-up scene from the display on the drone and then watching from the ground as the tiny figure became bigger and bigger as his brother plummeted towards the ground.
Gordon hadn’t missed a beat. The drone was following their brother decent immediately, trying to match his speed without letting the rotators get too close.
Virgil told him how he’d shouted at Gordon that it wasn’t going to work. How Gordon had shouted back that they didn’t have any other option.
“I didn’t know what to do. I thought that was it.” Virgil admitted to him. Scott knew the feeling, recalling his own reaction from the room above.
“I should’ve been in Two.” Virgil continued in a mumble. “Should’ve been ready.”
“There was nothing you could have done Virg.” Scott said softly. He was already dealing with his own guilt around the situation but he wouldn’t stand for one of his siblings trying to do the same.
“We almost lost him.”
Both boys found their gazes drifting over to their sleeping brother. Scott didn’t want to pretend to Virgil that he hadn’t been scared. That he hadn’t frozen too. Not just frozen but been practically catatonic at the possibility of losing John.
“I know.” He said, voice cracking. The emotions of the past 12 hours hadn’t quite passed yet. The concussion that was keeping him in this bed overnight was probably a factor in that.
“You should get some sleep Scott.”
Virgil, of course, had been distracted from his morbid train of thought by Scott’s condition and Scott was almost happy to humour his brother just this once.
He nodded and lowered himself into the bed.
He couldn’t resist adding. “Promise me you won’t stay in that chair all night.”
Virgil smiled but just settled further back into the chair as Scott’s eyes closed almost involuntarily now that he was lying down.
He drifted into an uneasy sleep with the knowledge that his family had survived the day.
*
John was hopping through the hospital corridors on his newly acquired crutches. Although he’d protested at first, he had to admit he probably wouldn’t have gotten down to the gardens without them. At least he’d avoided the wheelchair.
He’d managed to make his escape after Virgil went on a morning coffee run to a place a couple of blocks over. Hospital coffee got old fast.
He’d needed some fresh air. He was tired of watching clips of himself over and over again on the hospital television. Scott wouldn’t turn it off. John didn’t know why; his brother averted his gaze every time they played a clip of the fall. It clearly wasn’t something either one of them wanted to relive.
This morning also had the addition of Litchwell giving his own opinion on the incident. Kayo had reported to them that the news stations had once again set up camp outside the building and were pestering the employees for interviews as they arrived at work this morning.
Litchwell had been more than willing to give his point of view on the events. It consisted of many words like dangerous and liabilities floating around in relation to them. Scott was doing damage control with Sanders now. It was probably the only reason he’d let John go out on his own.
He was starting to feel a little smothered by the constant attention. He understood it, and he appreciated it but the 24/7 concern was starting to weigh on him.
So, he’d made his way out to the hospital gardens, sat on a bench and enjoyed the morning air. It was what he needed to clear his head.
His thoughts had been spiralling since the incident. Not a lot could phase him but getting held hostage, almost being kidnapped and then falling to what he honestly believed to be his death was a lot to process.
He thinks he’d been okay until he’d faced the prospect of being separated from Scott. He didn’t know if he’d been subconsciously holding on to the childish idea that his oldest brother could handle anything, could fix anything. He just knew he always felt safe when Scott was around.
They were a team. They could handle a conference, they could handle the board, they could handle International Rescue. John wouldn’t be able to do any of that without Scott.
So yeah, of course he’d been scared.
He was ready to be back on the island. So, he eventually limped his way back inside to the room. They were due to be discharged this morning so he didn’t want to miss the doctors check-in. He was pretty sure he could get Scott to pull some strings even if they weren’t discharged, his brother was as restless in the hospital as he was. Plus, it’s not like they didn’t have the facilities to deal with their injuries at home.
He got out of the elevator at their floor, clacking his way into the lobby area that was decorated with neon green and orange chairs in an attempt to distract from the plain white walls around them.
He paused when a man abruptly stood up from one of the chairs when he entered. He recognised the face.
It only took a second for it to click.
“Mr. Denburgh?” He said uncertainly. That day at the conference felt like weeks ago instead of the couple of days that had actually passed. The man hadn’t made much of an impression.
“John.” He said with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I saw the news and wanted to come and see how you were doing?”
Denburgh looked nervous. He was visibly sweating, and his hands were twisting together in front of him. John started to feel uneasy.
He smiled politely. “I’m just fine Mr. Denburgh thank-you. It was nice of you to stop by.”
He didn’t pause for an answer and instead started hopping past him towards the direction of his and Scott’s room. As usual Scott was giving him a sense of security.
Unfortunately, the man started to walk with him. Couldn’t anyone take a hint these days?
“Good, good.” Denburgh said distractedly. “I’m glad.” He added almost as an afterthought.
The silence stretched on, just the clatter of John’s crutches on the linoleum echoing in the empty corridor.
“Listen John.” The man opened, quickening his pace to get in front of him and stopping, effectively halting their progress down the corridor. “I wanted to know if you’d reconsidered my offer after everything that’s happened?”
“The offer?” John queried before realising. “Oh, for the glasses? Um, no they’re still not for sale.”
Now more than ever. John thought grimly.
Those glasses had put him, his brother and the entire board in danger. He’d probably have to halt development entirely. Innovation once again stunted by the unsavoury characters of society.
He was so lost in thought he almost fell over when a hand suddenly pushed him in towards the wall. He gasped as he put his fractured leg down on reflex to catch himself before getting his crutches under his again.
He stared at the man in front of him about to question what the hell he was doing when his eye caught the glint of what was in his hand. A knife.
A knife that was held with shaking hands pointed towards his lower abdomen.
“I tried to do this the easy way okay?” Denburgh hissed but John could also hear the desperation in his voice. “I’m not leaving here without those designs.”
“It was you.” John accused, keeping his voice level. “You hired those men to hold the board hostage.”
“Did you not hear me?” Denburgh exclaimed wildly, brandishing the knife closer.
“But you don’t have the funds for that.” John continued. He’d wondered about it since he’d first taken a glance at the printed offer the man had initially offered for the glasses. It was way over what John knew the man, and his company, could afford.
He’d thought it had been suspicious but he’d temporarily dismissed it while they focused on the upcoming board meeting. He’d been planning to look into the man’s finances once he was back on Five.
“Who are you working for? Who’s funding this?” John asked and was shoved back into the wall again for his efforts.
“Shut it!” He seethed and John’s brain was beginning to catch up with his situation as he felt the tip of the blade make contact with his abdomen, the point threatening to break skin.
But then there was a blur and the pressure was gone.
“Get away from him.”
Kayo.
Before John can even blink, she has Denburgh on the ground with his wrists twisted behind him and the man’s own knife in her hand.
“John?” She looks at him worriedly. “Are you okay?”
“I’m good.” He reassures her with a sigh of relief. “Thanks Kay.”
She releases her own shaky breath and nods while pulling zip ties out of her belt.
“Please.” Denburgh is whimpering on the floor. “Please he’ll kill me.”
“Who?” Kayo demands as she shakes him.
The man twisted round to look at them. There was hopelessness in his eyes.
“He called himself the Hood…”
The Hood.
Once Denburgh had calmed down he told them all about the mysterious benefactor who’d contacted him. How he seemed to have an endless supply of both money and information. Especially about them. It was unsettling.
When the GDF finally showed up and took the man off Kayo’s hands they were both tense with the new information they’d learned. He and Kayo were the eyes and ears of the family. Not much went on that they didn’t know about.
John was leaning against the hospital wall with his crutches in a half-supporting position as they talked. His leg was still throbbing slightly from the unexpected weight he’s put on it earlier.
“Why are you always finding trouble when I’m not around?” Kayo remanded at him while straightening out his crinkled shirt.
“Just making up for the time I spend on Five I guess.” John smiled sheepishly.
“Well once that leg heals, I’m banishing you up to that little space station of yours for good.”
“We’re in agreement on that one.” John sighed.
He couldn’t wait to be back in his own space again, only dealing with the public over comm links. He’d had too much excitement for the year already and it was only January.
“I’m sorry John.”
It was said so quietly he almost missed it. Focusing back on his sister, her head was bowed to the floor and her shoulders were scrunched up and tense. He hadn’t ever seen Kayo look so defeated.
“What?” He cringed at his own voice. Real tactful John.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there, okay?” Her tone was abrupt. “I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you. That I couldn’t do my job”
John got the sense she wasn’t talking about right now at the hospital. Scott had already given him a little insight into what had been going on outside of the building. She still wouldn’t look at him, keeping her stony gaze fixed on a point down the hall.
“You made all the right decisions Kay. Everyone got out in the end and that’s all we ever really ask for right?”
She nodded and gave him a small smile. He wanted to say more but they were interrupted.
“John!” Scott was barrelling down the hall towards them. Denburgh was still being held by the GDF officers behind them and Scott eyed him. “Is that the guy from the conference? What the hell is going on?”
Scott looked at him expectantly and John winced internally. He’d only just gotten out of smother hen territory. He was grateful when Kayo took the lead.
“I think we’ve found the man behind the raid.” Kayo said simply.
Scott face went through the full spectrum of emotions as he put it all together, glaring at Denburgh the entire time. He eyed the knife that was being scooped off the floor and bagged by the one of the officers.
“Did he hurt you?” Scott questioned finally, hands scrunching at his sides.
“Nah.” John said nonchalantly. “Kayo had my back.”
He smiled as his sister and saw the corners of her mouth turn up at the words. He’d take the small victories.
Scott nodded but gave him a look that said they’d be revisiting what had happened here in the very near future.
“God.” Scott said scrubbing at his face tiredly before pointing an accusatory finger towards him. “I swear you are not leaving my line of sight until we are back on the island.”
John was then promptly frog-marched back to their room. His brother did indeed keep true to his promise but luckily, they were discharged soon after and back on Tracy Island by that evening.
And the discussions began. Retellings, reports, investigations, security upgrades, damage control and concern about the powerful new player who’d entered the game.
The Hood.
Who was he? Why were there no records of him? What would he do next?
They’d just have to wait and be ready.
fin.
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Season 4 of Stranger Things dropped and instead of watching it I finished off this monster 😄😄😄
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Such a nice moment between bros <3
(Also FlyingFish is amazing 😄)
Fic: The Sky’s Ocean
A one-shot! Based on this rp post here and for the awesomely supportive, @the-original-sineater
Summary: Escape from the sleeplessness, somewhere between the sky and the stars.
Main Characters: Scott, Gordon (what do we call them when it’s not military? SkyFish? CloudFish? FlyingFish?)
Genre: Family - with some heavy themes mentioned. As usual it’s light until it’s not.
Words - 2K
*****
“You know I’m not actually letting you fly One,” Scott declared. “Not after the state you brought her back in last time.”
“But Scott!” Gordon whined, dragging his name out into progressing elongated pitches. “That was part of the deal. I show you to the cloud sea, and you let me fly One.” Scott’s unwavering expression told him he had not yet one that battle. “Besides,” he added, wringing his hands and widening his expression to emphasize his innocence in this matter, “I got injured right after last time. Haven’t I paid for that enough?”
“Never.” Scott’s grin twitched. “Now up. Get out of my seat. You’re navigator.” He slapped the back of his chair lightly.
Gordon grumbled as he switched to the co-pilot seat, picking up his water bottle from the cup holder and taking a large sip of energy boosting hydration. Scott slid in, adjusting the seat back to his height with a glare back in Gordon’s direction, and he rested his to-go coffee thermos beside him.
“Return journey then? For flight training?"
"I’ll think about it.”
“I’ll even let you boss me around.”
Go sit.”
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That’s Business - Chapter 4
Apologies for the cruel cliff-hanger and then the extended wait for this chapter, it refused to be wrangled >.< On the plus side I predict just one more to go! Thank-you for all the lovely comments <3
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4
FF.net | AO3
~30 minutes earlier~
Virgil cursed when the feed abruptly shut down. One of the men inside Tracy Industries had ripped the glasses from John’s face and presumably broken them if the static he was now seeing on his tablet was any indication.
Up until now Virgil had been calmed by the fact that it didn’t seem like the men were there to hurt anyone. Once they’d heard that they only wanted information, Gordon had managed to convince the GDF not to rush in too soon.
They were on the ground in New York now. Far enough away that they wouldn’t be spotted but not so far that they wouldn’t be there in minutes. Kayo and the GDF were coordinating with them, this was a hugely high profile situation. Some of the most powerful men in the world were in that room.
Virgil hated how that fact seemed to garner a much higher priority than they were usually afforded when working with the GDF. But with his family involved, Virgil also couldn’t say he wasn’t relieved that no resources were left to spare here.
Virgil had been sitting in Two, watching the feed from John’s glasses. He wasn’t sure where Gordon had run off to. As much as he hated to admit it there wasn’t much they could do right now.
Unless they wanted to fly up the side of the building in the hulk of Two, their only option was to sit and wait. Virgil had been okay with that plan until the video feed had gone down. Now his anxiety was through the roof.
He’d been left with the image of the furious man who’d taken the glasses replaying in his head. What if he hurt John? Or worse.
“Gordon.” He called over the comms. “Where are you? I’ve lost the feed.”
“Not to worry bro.” Gordon said in person, startling Virgil as he walked into the cockpit.
Gordon had a games controller out.
“What’s that?” Virgil asked, sceptical that Gordon would be playing games right now.
“One of Brains’ new camera bots.” Gordon supplied and pushed the controller closed, banishing the holoscreen on the controller in front of him and transferring the image to the larger holoscreen on Two’s dashboard.
Virgil saw the windowed sides of the Tracy Industries building as he watched the new feed. Gordon was flying a camera drone. Virgil tapped his fingers on the dash anxiously as the drone slowly came round to the side of the building that they knew the board meeting had been held in.
Gordon didn’t get too close, but they could both clearly see the room in question. The glass was completely missing from one of the panels on the 30th floor room. The sun glaring off the other windows left a dark hole into the building. The camera zoom was good though. They could see a man lingering at the edge of the window from their angled vantage point.
“I can’t get closer.” Gordon supplied. “It’s not a small drone, they’ll see it from a mile away.”
Virgil nodded his agreement.
This was enough.
The mercenaries escape route was clear now. All they’d have to do was wait until they saw the men leave and then they could go in with the GDF.
Well, that’s what Virgil thought until a familiar ginger head appeared at the edge of the window.
Virgil swore as he abruptly stood up from his chair, hands thrown out as if he could do anything while just watching on the screen. He heard Gordon cursing beside him, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away.
The zoom was suddenly a curse as they were forced to watch their brother hanging out of the destroyed window. John was scrambling, feet balanced precariously on the edge.
The drone moved slightly closer as Gordon also itched to do something, but they were helpless.
He wasn’t a stranger to watching brothers hang off the side of buildings, but they were usually secured or at least had the equipment to secure themselves. Not with their lives being held in the hands of a mercenary who could let go at any second.
John, in his expensive suit, lacking any grapples or means to secure himself.
His brother was finally yanked back into the room and Virgil exchanged a glance with Gordon, the terror echoing in both their eyes.
“This is escalating.” Gordon said grimly. Trying to find an angle with the drone that could reveal where their brother had disappeared to. “The GDF should go in now.”
Virgil nodded and Gordon swiftly got on the line with Kayo who was with the group of GDF officers ready to storm the building.
“Let’s go.” Virgil said when Gordon was finished.
His brother swapped the drone display back to the controller as they exited the cockpit. Virgil made sure to grab his full med-bag on the way out, hefting the heavy pack over his shoulder.
He kept a hand on Gordon’s shoulder as they weaved their way through the crowded New York streets. His brother was focused on the drone display, keeping it on the window but out of sight.
“There’s a helicopter there now.” Gordon supplied.
“Any word from Kayo?” Virgil asked.
“Nothing.”
Virgil readjusted his grip on his brother’s shoulder, pulling Gordon towards him as the crowd thickened. All these people just getting on with their lives, commuting, not knowing what was going on in the high rise building just a few streets over. He envied them.
“They’re leaving.” Gordon said eventually, eyes still focused on the screen. Virgil took his eyes off the crowd briefly, glanced over his brother’s shoulder to see a cable extending from the window to the helicopter.
This was the moment they’d been waiting for.
He just hoped both his brothers had been left unharmed in the process. Well at least as unharmed as Virgil had last seen them. Scott with a clear head wound and John hanging halfway out of a 30th floor window.
*
Scott couldn’t tell if he was screaming or not. His ears were muted, ringing.
The helicopter had retreated, the other man still dangling from beneath, but Scott didn’t care anymore. Barely spared it a glance.
He was frozen. Staring out at the same place John had just disappeared from view.
His little brother. His crazy-smart, genius little brother. Gone.
Scott felt sick.
“Scott.” Someone said shakily behind him. He almost missed it. There was still a deafening rushing sound in his ears.
“Scott.” They said more firmly.
He turned his head slightly. Sanders. She was looking at him a little shell shocked.
“You need to breathe.” She said eventually.
Scott only now realised he was near hyperventilating and realising it only made things worse. His chest was tight, his heart thudding far too fast.
He started seeing spots as he awkwardly bent over in his chair, hands still tied behind him.
“Scott.” Henry echoed, his voice equally tight. “Please take a breath, you’re going to pass out.”
Scott stared at the floor, and it was only all his years of training that allowed him to take a slow shaky breath. Compartmentalise. Focus.
He turned to face the room again. The board were all in varying states of shock. Sanders had tears running down her face even as she looked worriedly at him. She’d known John almost since birth.
No one said anything to him. What could you say in this situation? They were all staring at him though.
The door burst open breaking the silence and Scott flinched uncharacteristically. It was the GDF. The black-clad men and women rushed into the room; guns raised.
Scott locked eyes with Kayo. She hurried over to him.
He felt his shock turn to rage.
“Where were you?” He rasped out; his own voice unrecognisable.
Kayo looked sullen.
“I know they’ve got John, Scott. Don’t worry, they won’t get far.” Kayo softened as she knelt behind him to cut away his restraints. “John’ll be okay.”
“No.” Scott choked, aggressively pushing away from the chair as soon as he was able.
He ran, unsteadily, over to the window. “He didn’t make it on to the helicopter.”
Scott gripped a hand on the sharp edge of the window frame, barely noticing the sting of glass cutting into his palm and leaned out of the opening. He stared down onto the street hoping for a miracle but all he could see was the sheer drop and nothing that his brother could’ve used to save himself.
His vision wobbled.
A hand yanked him backwards and his legs folded as he landed on his butt.
“Scott! What the hell are you doing?” Even as Kayo shouted at him, Scott could hear the shaky uncertainty in her voice. She knew. Deep down, like he did.
“He’s dead.”
Then Scott threw up.
*
Kayo helped Scott out through the main entrance of Tracy Industries, supporting him under the arm. A crowd had formed. The many emergency services vehicles blocking the street had led to that. The media vultures had also descended, and Kayo cursed that they’d already had knowledge of the board meeting. They knew whatever was happening was high profile and they all wanted to be the first to break the story.
Kayo was used to dealing with the press of course. Everything International Rescue and her family were involved in was high profile. This was different though. This wasn’t a carefully crafted statement about lives saved and lives lost. This was her brothers.
She’d need to release a statement before the rumours could get too out of control.
Scott’s face was blank, she wondered if he was even registering the reporter’s shouting questions at them. He’d spent the last 10 minutes throwing up the entire contents of his stomach then continuing to retch until he didn’t have any energy left.
Kayo wasn’t sure she’d ever seen him so out of control. She’d seen him stressed, tired, hurt, angry but never like this. He hadn’t been making sense when she’d first reached him, but she’d managed to piece it together. That unwelcome tightness in her stomach made a reappearance.
John. She’d sent word to the GDF about a likely body on the streets. She didn’t have the stomach to handle that herself. The last thing she’d heard from a worried Virgil was that the mercenaries appeared to be taking John with them. Something must have gone wrong.
She should’ve been there earlier. It was the first thing Scott said to her when she entered the room, and he was right. If she’d just been faster, breached the room 30 seconds earlier. They should’ve gone in straight away.
She’d made the wrong decision and John had paid the price. Kayo dug her nails into the palm of her hand as she eased Scott down to sit at the back edge of an ambulance.
It was her job to protect her brothers. It was her job to keep them safe. She’d failed.
She placed a hand on Scott’s shoulder, kneeling beside him. His face was still bloody, a likely head wound. That couldn’t be helping with the situation.
“Hey” She tried. Scott didn’t even flinch, continuing his blank stare.
Kayo felt her own eyes watering as the situation crashed down on her. This was it. There would be no recovering from this.
“Hey” She tried again, her voice cracking, her hand tightening on Scott’s shoulder as it trembled. He finally locked eyes with her.
She felt the despair overcome her as they stared into each other’s grief.
“I’m sorry.” She choked out. “I’m sorry.”
She couldn’t stop.
And then Scott was crying too. They still held each other’s gaze. She didn’t expect comfort from him at a time like this. She didn’t deserve it. But Scott’s hand grabbed at her outstretched arm and pulled her in towards him. The embrace was crushing as Scott sobbed silently into her shoulder, shakes wracking his body.
She felt her own tears spill over her cheeks. She lost track of time as they stayed frozen in that moment until a familiar voice brought her back to reality.
“Scott!” The voice sounded from behind Kayo’s back. She couldn’t turn in the bone crushing embrace Scott had on her, but she felt Scott raise his head slowly at the sound of his brother. Gordon. Sounding far too energetic.
“Are you okay?” Gordon asked speedily but uncertainly. She wondered if he’d ever seen Scott like this before. “Do you need a paramedic? I can find one?”
Kayo could practically feel him vibrating through his words even though she couldn’t actually see him.
He doesn’t know. She realised.
Scott’s grip on her loosened, his hands sliding away, and she finally turned to face her little brother. He looked confused and worried while still bouncing on the balls of his feet, as if waiting for someone to give him a task.
Scott had gone back to a more-or-less expressionless face even with his eyes still red-rimmed and wet. It was startling to see the change. She wondered if this was his way of coping. Either way, big brother was clearly not up to the task of big brothering right now.
“Gordon.” She started, her face softening even as her eyes scrunched up with the moisture filling them again. “It’s John…he…”
And then a familiar green baldric appeared from behind the ambulance door. The thing that shocked Kayo into saying anything further however was the other familiar face strung over his shoulder.
“Virgil” John groaned, hopping forward beside his brother, one foot elevated. “You’re going too fast.”
“Well, if you’d have let me carry you-” Virgil started even as he adjusted his grip, supporting John a bit more by the waist.
She was frozen. Scott was frozen beside her.
Virgin and John quieted down as the noticed the sombre atmosphere.
“Scott?” Virgil questioned sounding worried, trying to lock eyes with his brother. “Are you okay?”
Scott’s eyes were glued on John.
“John” Kayo breathed. “How…?”
John’s eyes softened as he realised the implications.
“It’s a long story but I’m okay.” He said it with a smile, almost casually and Kayo felt the strange urge to laugh.
“You’re not okay.” Virgil grunted, shifting his grip again. “Your leg is broken.”
“It’s not broken.” John protested. “It’s just a bad sprain.”
“Yeah well, we’ll let the paramedics decide-”
Virgil was interrupted as Scott shot across to his brother like lightening. Kayo had barely even registered him moving before he was grabbing the back of John’s neck and yanking him into a strangling embrace.
John flailed for a second on one leg as he was pulled sharply away from Virgil, but Scott’s hold was unyielding, and he quickly found his balance.
John only hesitated a millisecond before his long arms were snaking around Scott’s back. Scott fisted his fingers into John rumpled, dirty dress shirt and shook his brother lightly.
“Don’t ever do that to me again.”
Tbc. -> Chapter 5
#thunderbirds are go#myfic#scott tracy#kayo kyrano#john tracy#gordon tracy#virgil tracy#think this is my first kayo pov
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Oh gosh, by the skin of their teeth 😱 the stress I felt when Alan brought the rock back into the room - away away! Poor baby is going to be feeling the guilt when Virgil explains T.T
Number Four (Part 9)
Supermen!AU - Intro | One Thing | Superman
Number Four - Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9
Apologies for the delay. The end of the week is busy for me and then the weekend was taken out by 4000 words of a random fic plus three migraines. This bit is on the shorter side of things, but I think we are heading into a resolution and a little bit of relief following the events of this fic :D There may even be an end in sight.
Many thanks to all of you who have helped me and supported me with this fic. Thanks to @the-original-sineater for reading this bit.
I hope to have more fic soon. WI hope you enjoy Johnny getting his hair scared off in this bit :D
-o-o-o-
Dad made John go to bed. It was a common thing. Their human family had this erroneous thought that sleep fixed many things.
As far as John was concerned, sleep only gave the terrors the chance to leap up and overwhelm him.
Sleep had never been his friend.
However, somehow, today was the exception. A shower, clean clothes, a long talk with Dad that despite having no answers, was inexplicably comforting, and when told to sleep, Dad at his bedside, he did.
Only to be woken by an alarm and Eos shouting that Virgil was in trouble.
John was off the bed and moving before Dad had a chance to stand up.
He found Virgil on the floor in the hallway outside the infirmary. There was broken glass and blood.
“Virgil!”
His big brother startled and attempted to push him away.
John grabbed his flailing arms, trying to still and calm.
Virgil’s right arm snapped in his grip.
As John’s heart stopped, a rock fell from Virgil’s limp hand and his brother collapsed, John catching him before his head could hit the floor.
No, not Virgil, too!
But John was a first responder as much as any of them and he knew the routine. His fingers and eyes ran vitals as Dad, followed by Alan and Grandma, skidded to a halt beside him.
“What happened?”
John curled Virgil into his arms, lifting him effortlessly from the floor and turning towards the infirmary. Blood dripped from several lacerations in his palms, knees and feet.
Alan’s eyes were wide as he stared up at them and then at the mess. Something caught his eye and as John lifted himself off the floor and floated Virgil into the infirmary, he was vaguely aware of their little brother grabbing the rock that Virgil had dropped before hurrying in after them.
John gently lay Virgil down on the last bed left vacant on the other side of a very pale Scott. He palmed a scanner, waving the yellow light over his prone brother as their family gathered around.
Several alerts were triggered at once and the same symptoms as both Gordon and Scott etched themselves into John’s soul. As Alan approached, the numbers dropped even further.
Virgil squirmed on the bed.
John frowned. “Virgil, can you hear me?”
His brother shifted again, this time his clearly broken arm almost hitting Alan. Fortunately, Dad grabbed their youngest brother and pulled him away, both moving back, closer towards Scott and out of the way.
John moved in to immobilise Virgil’s arm, only to be interrupted by an alarm from Scott’s bed.
Grandma hurried over just as their Eldest stopped breathing.
Time blurred after that. John moved faster than he could ever recall moving. Knowledge, chanted by Eos so many times during his desperate research, about the needs of the Kryptonian body when not supported by the golden light of Earth’s sun.
Alan was removed from the room, his crying protests ignored as Gordon’s vitals dropped dramatically as well.
John was in the midst of losing all his blood brothers at once and nothing…nothing!…he was doing was having any effect…
Until it was.
The soft beep as Scott’s heart started beating again. One snapped rib from John’s attempts to keep him alive…but beating and growing stronger by the second.
The small sound that slipped between John’s lips was broken and ever so fearful that it might stop again.
But, as if the bottom of hell had been reached, his three brothers began rebounding. Vitals began to increase towards norm and in the case of Virgil, John was able to see the knitting and regrowth of the bone he had moments ago snapped with his fingers.
It was Grandma who caught John.
Small and soft, she was a gentle embrace, her arms wrapping around him from behind as his worse fears were avoided.
Because there was no way he could survive this planet alone.
Not without the Eldest’s strength, Virgil’s compassion or Gordon’s joy.
He couldn’t.
The moment Virgil’s eyes opened, he knew he had been saved.
-o-o-o-
TBC
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